#Just found out on a Saturday morning too

[evaiskindaweird]

Im about to fight a bitch

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos

[deus-ex-mona]

when the yuutsu of the getsuyoubi gets too out of hand yk—

[beesorcery]

weh

[pepperyduck]

this is love ft. kento nanami

a/n: a few sappy slices of life with my main man :3 enjoy as i dig up motivation to finish kinktober. 18+ mdni!

"honey?" kento's voice is muffled through the door as he calls out to you, "everything okay?" the door rattles as he tries to open it, knob jingling.

"uhm, yeah! everything's fine!" you nervously shout, much too loud, and rush to unplug the iron that had melted your husband's favorite shirt. you panic and yelp when the hot iron scorches the side on your hand, throwing the stupid device to the ground in a clatter.

"why is the door locked—are you okay?" he asks, voice becoming more concerned as he hears the movement inside.

"i'm—i'm fine! promise! just give me a minute!" you're rushing into your shared master bathroom to run cold water over your hand, and kento’s using a screwdriver pulled from thin air to break into your bedroom. tears well in your eyes when you catch the sight of kento seeing his favorite shirt burnt and melted to his own ironing board. "i’m so sorry…"

in reality, he doesn’t care about the shirt—he’s already at your side to inspect your burnt hand. after a few seconds, he speaks.

"did you try to iron my shirt for me?" nanami asks, a small smile on his face, "you didn’t have to do that." he turns off the faucet and takes a small towel to dry your hand off.

"i tried to, i’m sorry—i didn’t know it would do that." you apologize, looking down at the cold tile flooring in defeat.

"oh, honey." he coos, "it’s only a shirt."

"have you seen your father?" you ask your son, yū, who’s sat at the dining table, eating breakfast. he shakes his head no, and when you look at your daughter, mayu, she does the same.

"jeez," you grumble to yourself, bedroom slippers pattering down the hallway as you go to search for your husband. saturday mornings were his time to sleep in, but realistically, he never slept past 9am. and currently, it was nearing 10am.

you check everywhere. he isn’t found in the bedroom, living room, his office, the garage, the patio or in the little garden he kept. upstairs, downstairs, everywhere, he isn’t there. and when you check in your bedroom for the last time, you hear a soft buzzing coming from the bathroom. upon entering, you see your husband bent over the counter, leaning close in the mirror as he shaves his stubble with an electric razor.

"there you are—when did you get that?"

kento had always been a clean shaven kind of man, going to a barber shop once every two weeks for his straight razor shave. it hadn’t even crossed your mind he didn’t go after work yesterday.

but when he looks at you—you burst out laughing. he’d shaven most of his beard off, but a few fuzzy patches remained on his cheeks, along with a mustache grazing his upper lip. peach fuzz and a few knicks litter his chin. this was the first time you’d seen him unable to do anything perfectly. and he looks ridiculous.

"is it really that bad?" he groans, pouting when you wrap your arms around yourself in a giggling fit. you shake your head, although your unforgiving laughs are a testament to the opposite.

"no—no, let me help," you say after calming down.

after gathering a new razor and some shaving cream, you sit atop the counter and your husband stands between your legs. kento is surprised how flawlessly you shave his face, without creating any more marks or cuts. you giggle and kiss him, getting some shaving cream on your face.

"ken?" you shout from the kitchen, where you’re sat, working on your dissertation. it’s been a long road of blood, sweat, and many, many tears; but you’re finally getting towards the end. about to earn a doctorate.

"yes, darling?" kento replies, walking into the kitchen on queue, his timing impeccable.

"can you read over this paragraph, please?" you kindly ask of him, pointing to your most recent written paragraph. he leans over you, planting one firm palm on the table, the other on your back; his eyes read along the sentences and his fingers tap along your spine.

"ah," his finger becomes more focused on a certain word, "wrong 'there', honey."

"no it's not..." you instantly retort, squinting your tired eyes to read over your writing. and you're right, it was the correct one the first time. this was his version of teasing you. but kento couldn't keep up the face much longer before he's giving in with a shit-eating grin you didn't see that often. "you're funny." you groan as kento stands back up.

after reading over the paragraph for about the nineteenth time, you notice kento silently slipping you some tea before turning back around to keep himself busy with cleaning. you absentmindedly take a few sips, then some more...and you find yourself becoming more and more sleepy...

and you're out like a light, forehead pressed directly against the table as a puddle of drool forms on the papers below. kento already has a warm blanket straight from the dryer to drape over you, and you stir just enough to get comfy on your arms.

kento knows that his back will hurt in the morning, but he sits around the corner of the table next to you, settling his head into his arms to drift off to sleep alongside you.

music of your taste plays rather quietly in the kitchen. you stir the pot of soup and inhale the flavorful aroma that wafts through the air.

kento sets two bowls next to the stove, then rummages through your silverware drawer to find two spoons. the kids are at their grandparents for the weekend, it's only you and your husband, converted into the duo you were long ago.

you step away from the stove to go fill up two glasses of wine, the brand kento had as his favorite had slowly turned into your favorite over time, too.

kento fills up the two bowls to the brim of the delicious food, grinning on the inside at the simplicity of it all. just you and him. he lids the pot with the matching glass top and makes his way over to the table.

you set out place mats for the both of you, then place the wine glasses in their prospective areas. kento places the bowls on top of the mats as you grab the spoons from the counter.

in the kitchen, your bodies subconsciously dance around each other. carefully, in perfect tune and pace. delicate steps of a routine formed over so much time together.

in the universe, your souls are tied, striding alongside one another in each lifetime repeated.

and this, is love.

[whateverloomis]

🖤 Dilf!Billy Loomis x AFAB reader (Stepcest)

🖤 Part 2

Warnings: Stepcest, predetermined family, fingering, teasing, p in v, roughness, infidelity, unprotected sex, dirty talk, daddy kink, slight degradation, mentions of Stu, age gap (middle aged Billy and reader in their 20s,) AFAB reader (no pronouns,) unedited

Your mother had never been shy with her love life. She's had multiple partners after your dad passed away. Random hookups with attractive older men happened pretty often too. You're sure it's all been to fill the void and drown the unwanted emotions.

You've never really had the best relationship with her, you bud heads a lot and have grown distant since your biological dad passed, not to mention the countless arguments about every little inconvenience.

For that reason and many others you haven't been secretive about the attraction towards your step father, Billy Loomis. You don't care if he actually loves her or not. You'll let any selfish thoughts cross your mind and oh boy, you want that man inside you as soon as possible.

He's been living with you and your mother for 2 years and as time went by it got more difficult to contain yourself around him, especially since he openly flirts with you and you swear that one of these days you're going to jump on his cock the second you find a chance.

One particular day your mother left for the weekend on a business trip. You were more than sure that she'd been cheating on Billy with his best friend, Stu Macher. They've worked together for years and it's so obvious that they've got something going on.

To be completely honest, you wouldn't mind having Stu as your next step father. He's just as hot as Billy and you never miss the way that he checks you out whenever you're around him. Gosh, if you could have both of them at the same time you know you'd cum the second they both lay hands on you.

Being alone with Billy for the weekend was going to be difficult. You haven't hooked up with anyone in so long and touching yourself isn't satisfying anymore. The way he shamelessly walks around shirtless with sweatpants that highlight his cock drives you crazy and you don't know how you'll survive around him.

Because of that you were feeling bold. You wanted to risk it all, and you did.

It was a Saturday morning and you wake up ready to take the day off to relax after a long week. After you brushed your teeth and showered, you went to the kitchen in just a thong, a thin cotton crop and knee high socks. You knew Billy would walk in the kitchen any second after hearing the water turn off in the shower and were ready to pounce at any moment.

"Well good morning to you too." The sound of his deep voice instantly sent shivers down your spine.

Billy was standing against the countertop behind you shamelessly looking at your exposed ass and gorgeous legs. His hair was damp from the shower and slicked back. No shirt on. Grey sweatpants. He was out to hunt and you were his easy prey.

Turning around, you smiled innocently at him and pointed at the stove, "You want pancakes? I'm making myself some."

Billy could see right through you and he wasn't playing your games.

At your question he chuckled and walked towards you. His hands instantly found your waist and his eyes captured yours, "I'm hungry for something else," he said and squeezed your flesh slightly, his eyes lingering on your tits before scanning your face.

He was driving you mad. You couldn't help but bite your lower lip to suppress a pathetic moan that threatened to come out of you.

Billy seemed to notice and smirked at your reaction, "I don't think your mother would like knowing you're walking around the house looking like that while I'm here," he said and it was your turn to chuckle at his nonchalant comment.

"I don't think she'd like to see her husband grab me like he is right now but here we are," you answered and he lost it.

Billy ran his hands down and under your ass cheeks before picking you up. He sat you on the counter and positioned himself between your legs. His large hands rested on your thighs and he occasionally squeezed them.

"Don't use that tone with me," he said half serious and you laughed teasingly as his words.

"Why? Is daddy gonna ground me? Hm?" you teased further and Billy grabbed your face with his right hand under your jaw, making you look into his eyes. You smirked at him and that was enough, the man crashed his lips against yours and kissed you hungrily.

You were desperate. Both of you were. Your hands were tangled in his hair and he was holding you impossibly close to his body. He groped your ass as you rocked against him slowly.

He was hard and needy before, but having you like this was going to make him cum right then and there if he wasn't careful.

Billy slid one of his hands from your ass to your hip, down your inner thigh and finally over your core. He felt the wetness through the fabric of your thong and he gasped at you mockingly, "I've barely touched you and you're already soaked," he said and you whined softly. So desperate to feel him inside you. Your body ached for his cock.

The man couldn't contain himself much longer. He was already pulling your panties to the side and playing with your cunt. Rubbing your sensitive bud in circular motions and running his fingers down to your throbbing hole, dipping them just enough to pleasure you but not enough to satisfy the craving. He was torturing you. Torturing himself.

"Mm... Billy please," you moaned and grabbed his big hand, pushing his fingers all the way inside you and whining at the feeling of finally being filled up. It still wasn't enough but fuck did it feel amazing when he started to fuck you with his fingers.

You throbbed around him and he groaned at the feeling.

"Fuck baby, you feel so good... I bet you'll feel better around my dick," he whispered in your ear as you fucked yourself with his fingers.

You grabbed his cock and felt how big he is. Gosh you were so right when you imagined him as you rode your dildo in your room alone at night.

"Mmphh... Please fuck me," you begged and Billy pulled his fingers out of your cunt, sucking on them teasingly and moaning at your taste.

He pulled you towards him by your thighs and you wrapped your arms around his neck instinctively. He held your legs around his middle and carried you to his and your mother's bedroom.

After he released you, you crawled on the bed and positioned yourself on the edge on all fours, giving him a perfect view of your behind. You slowly removed your thong for him and revealed your glistening cunt.

Billy groaned at the sight and pulled his sweatpants down just enough to release his throbbing cock. He wanted to eat you up and taste your whole body but right then he couldn't handle the sight of your waiting hole. He'd been wanting to bury himself inside you for so long, and when he finally did you both moaned at the same time.

He didn't bother to wear protection and you honestly didn't give a fuck at that point. You didn't care if your stepfather knocked you up, as fucked up as it sounds.

"Ahh fuck... Harder Daddy, harder!" You nearly screamed, and to that he complied.

Billy grabbed your hips harshly and pounded you hard enough that you felt his cock all the way up your stomach. He pressed your head against the mattress, your back arched perfectly for him and the sight of your ass cheeks bouncing against him was nearly enough to make him cum inside you, but he was smarter than that of course.

"Getting fucked by your stepfather, who does that?" He shamed you and it made you throb around him. You were nearly going to cum just by hearing his words, it was a chase for release between the two of you.

After a few more thrusts the knot inside you finally broke as his tip brushed against your gspot. You came around him and screamed at the feeling of the intense waves that were coursing through your body. You had one, two, three mini orgasms after the big O and fuck you needed more.

Billy nearly bust his load inside your sweet pussy, but he managed to pull out and cum all over your back. He took a mental picture at how good your body looked covered in his seed.

"I'll clean up the mess for you," he whispered teasingly before giving you a lingering kiss.

As he walked into the bathroom you heard the front door open. Your mom and Stus voice echoed in the living room.

Fuck.

"I'll take care of it..."

•

I know I know, we hate cliffhangers but I love teasing y'all :p ;)

Hope you enjoyed reading <33

[dreamsteddie]

There is an AITA out there that I can't find but it's been haunting me for weeks with visions of semi-angsty Steddie that I need to release onto the world. (If anyone happens to know what I'm talking about hit me up and I'll link it)

Edit: @jazzathebunny found the original AITA from Reddit linked Here for anyone who wants to read it. I'm definitely not doing exactly the same premise but this was my jumping off point 😊

Part Two! ------

Modern AU, Eddie and the guys are a moderately successful local band in the Chicago area playing gigs on the weekends and doing small tours whenever they all have the time. Gareth and Jeff are both in college while Eddie and Freak are both working part-time at a game store. Eddie managed to lock down that assistant manager position that lets him work 30 hours a week with weekends off for gigs. All in all, it's a pretty sweet deal and they can't complain.

Eddie had sworn off dating after a small handful of disastrous relationship attempts in their first year in the city. He dismisses any advances from people who attend their shows and tries not to think about how much he wants to make a genuine connection with someone and have something real. He's been burned one too many times to try and make something with someone he met in a bar or at work.

He knows the guys talk about it behind his back sometimes, he catches Jeff and Gareth fervently whispering to each other and stopping when they catch him entering the room one time too many to not suspect they're talking about him and he can't think of anything else going on in his life that they would feel the need to whisper about.

The fervent conversations take a slight uptick one day and about a week and a half after they do, Gareth hits him up and tells him he wants to set Eddie up with a guy from one of his classes. At first, Eddie is skeptical and cites all the reasons why he doesn't want to try with anyone right now but eventually, Jeff jumps in to plea the case and Freak jumps in on top of that and under the combined weight of his best friends he agrees to meet up with this Steve guy.

The guys set up the whole thing and before Eddie knows it it's Saturday night and he's wearing his best black jeans and a gray button-down, untucked, to go on an honest to God blind date like his life is some low-budget romcom.

Steve is not at all what Eddie thought he would be. Not the kind of guy he thought his friends would pick out for him given they know he usually goes for other alternatives like himself. Steve, who is shyly waving him over and getting out of his seat to great him, is the very epitome of prep. Well-fitted polo, light blue chinos, and what Eddie assumes this guy thinks are casual loafers. He's handsome to be sure, a 12/10 at least with perfect hair and defined biceps but Eddie is fairly sure he's being punked.

But, Eddie doesn't want to be rude so he goes to meet Steve at the table, confirming just in case that he's actually here to meet with a guy named Eddie. Steve gives him a bit of a confused look, saying that Gareth showed him a couple pictures of Eddie before he agreed to meet and figured he'd done the same for Eddie off Steve's Instagram. Gareth had, in fact, not done anything of the sort but they both dismiss it and get on with their date.

In all honesty, Eddie is expecting it to be a complete wash, but it turns out that even if Steve is not at all what Eddie would have previously said what his type, Steve is damn near perfect. He's funny, kind, a little bitchy, and even though he proves himself to be every bit the sports nerd he looks like he doesn't turn his nose up at Eddie's own much more classically nerdy interests. By the end of the date, Eddie has a new type and that type is Steve Harrington. He's quick to lock down a second date for the next weekend which Steve happily agrees to. They exchange numbers and Steve gives Eddie a chaste kiss on the cheek that has him floating all the way home.

Steve texted him that next morning letting him now he had a great time and is really looking forward to their next date and Eddie thinks this might be the start of something big for him. When he gets to practice he's clearly still floating on cloud nine and in his own little world designing their marriage invitations and matching tombstones so he doesn't notice the sly grins on his bandmates' faces.

"So...how'd it go last night? Everything you dreamed it would be?" Gareth asks, a strange glint in his eyes that Eddie doesn't clock.

Eddie goes on and on about how nice Steve was and how he might be The One, thanking Gareth profusely. Freak looks pleased for him, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder in congratulations but when Eddie finally tunes back into the real world he's greeted by Gareth's livid expression and Jeff's overly concerned one.

He asks the guys what the fuck is up and it turns out that Gareth and Jeff set this whole thing up as a prank of sorts. Eddie was never supposed to hit it off with Steve who Gareth selected specifically because he's a "totally brain-dead prep" and as far away as someone could get from Eddie's previous relationships. He was supposed to be someone Eddie could go on a date with and not form a connection with without getting completely burned at the end like all his previous relationships in the hopes of getting him out of his slump.

Jeff was in on it as well. He wanted to get Eddie back out there, so when Gareth presented the plan he sat in on a couple of Gareth's general credit business class sessions to help pick the guy out.

After Jeff and Gareth finish explaining he does a complete 180 and just...leaves. In any other situation, he would be raging and verbally tearing his friends a new asshole but instead, he completely disengages and walks out the garage door, ignoring his friends' shouts to come back.

He goes back home, socked and hurt and so very confused about how the hell he found himself in this position when his phone lights up.

New Message: Steve H.

Fuck.

-------

Part two coming soon??? Maybe???? We'll see.

[streetlamp-amber]

can we just stay in bed? (18+)

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 2.8k | divider by @cafekitsune | requests are open!

CW: smut (MDNI), p in v sex, oral (fem receiving), soft sex NOTES: i usually don’t write soft smut like this so i don’t really know if i’m 100% satisfied with this or not but i still wanted to share, let me know your thoughts :)

The joyful singing of the birds in the forest surrounding Wayne Manor could be heard from miles away as the sun was rising over the treetops, marking the beginning of a new day in Gotham. A lone ray of sunshine made its way through the gap between the two curtains hung over the window of you and Bruce's bedroom, illuminating the darkness with a soft golden glow.

Today was Saturday, meaning you didn't have work waiting for you or school to drive Dick and Jason to. The only plan on the schedule this morning was to sleep in, even for Alfred.

But your husband had other plans.

Bruce woke up on his own, his body was now used to being up early to make sure the boys had completed all of their homework before dropping them off at school. He was laying on his back with your head nestled in the crook of his neck, your hot breath fanning over his skin at a gentle rhythm while your arm and leg were hooked around him, keeping your body flushed against his. A grateful, satisfied smile formed on Bruce’s lips as he hugged you closer to him and pressed a kiss on the top of your head. He loved waking up with you in his arms, it was his favourite part of the day – when all his worries about Gotham were still dormant in the back of his mind, when he could bask in the peacefulness of the morning with your steady breathing reminding him how lucky he was that you were so much of a hothead, you had him pull over on the side of the road to reprimand his reckless driving when he almost rear ended your car. He remembered that day like it was yesterday, because your anger and your indifference to his celebrity status had already caught his heart right then and there, the fact that you were breathtakingly beautiful was only a plus. Six years had passed since then and Bruce had tried his best to remain on your good side in that time, but it happened sometimes that you let out your anger on him – like when he let Dick patrol with him for the first time. He found that he was still as captivated and enamoured with you as he was when the two of you first met, you’re just so hot when you’re angry, he can’t help it.

Overcome with the love he held for you, Bruce started peppering soft, barely-there kisses on your cheek, your nose, your jaw and your neck, moving you to lay on your back as he did so for him to have better access to your skin. His gentle touches pulled you out of your slumber and you stretched out your limbs, your husband never relenting with his affections.

“Good morning, my love,” Bruce whispered in between kisses on your throat.

You giggled, the softness of his lips tickling you. “Good morning,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck while his held you tight under your back. You turned your head to glance at the digital clock on your bedside table, noticing the time displayed in red light. “Isn’t it too early to be awake on a Saturday morning?”

“What time is it?” Bruce asked as he comfortably laid on you, his face now resting in the crook of your neck.

“Ten past seven,” you answered, your hands finding their way to your husband’s hair. Your fingers threaded through his soft waves and you felt him hum in satisfaction against you.

“I’m not sleepy anymore,” he weakly argued, eyes closing as your scent comforted him.

“Bruce, I can literally feel your breathing slowing down like it does when you fall asleep,” you chuckled.

“Then we should do something to stay awake and enjoy these minutes of peace we have that are oh so rare,” Bruce suggested with an impish tone.

“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement, “we haven't made blueberry waffles in quite some time.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and stood up above you, trapping you under his body with his elbows resting on both sides of your head. “Can we just stay in bed?” He asked, his crooked grin on his lips as he leaned down, brushing the tip of your nose with his.

“And do what?” You feigned innocence, but your husband knew you too well – he had known you for more than six years after all, he liked to think he knew you more than he knew himself – and the mischievousness in your eyes didn't go past him.

“I have a few ideas in mind,” Bruce said before claiming your lips with his. You breathed a sigh of relief that he absorbed and he placed himself in between your legs.

He stood up after a minute for the both of you to get some air and teasingly tugged at the hem of your shirt (which really was one of his old Princeton shirts from his university days). “I think it's not fair I’m the only one who's bare chest,” he said, raising the shirt just above your bellybutton.

“I think you make a compelling argument, Mr. Wayne,” you playfully agreed then removed said shirt, throwing it on the floor.

Bruce didn’t waste any second, immediately peppering your chest with kisses the moment your skin was freed from your clothes. You relaxed into your pillow, enjoying the attention your husband was giving to every inch of your body. He took his time to savour your taste and you let him. There was no rushing this morning, only the two of you in your bubble of love where time and the outside world didn’t exist.

He nipped his teeth all over your chest, leaving soft bite marks in his trail, and sucked on your nipples, his hand massaging your boob his mouth wasn’t currently attached to.

“Bruce…” You mewled after he spent five minutes on each of your breasts, only now beginning his slow descent down your stomach. Ten minutes of working you up had you now very impatient and wanting for more.

“Patience, my love,” Bruce said against your skin, getting closer to where you needed him most. “We’re taking it slow this morning, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Mmm, I know of two certain boys who will be knocking at our door in less than an hour to see if you’re awake so you can watch the morning cartoons with them,” you argued, raising up your hips when he started leaving kisses on the inside of your right thigh.

“That won’t be a problem,” your husband reassured you before claiming your clit in his mouth, making you squeal in surprise. “Good thing I had the walls of our bedroom soundproofed,” he paused his sucking on your bundle of nerves to tease you with a grin on his shiny lips.

You glared at him, unamused, which made him chuckle at your cute face and he quickly kissed your thigh before going back to his previous task. He lapped the slick in between your folds like a man who had spent fourteen days in the desert and was drinking water for the first time. His tongue teased your entrance before diving in, grunting in pleasure when your hips bucked up closer to him, making his nose brush against your clit. Bruce could never get tired of you, of your taste, of the sounds you made because of him. It spurred him on and for the time being, his only purpose in life was to satisfy you.

He couldn’t even begin to explain the control you had over him, the way you guided him through this life like a lighthouse in a storm. He was putty in your hands, has been ever since the two of you met, and he knew very well how lost he would be without you. Yeah, he would be financially secured thanks to his family, but in every other aspect of his life, even as Batman, he wouldn’t be who he was today without you. And Bruce, who had never really been good at vocally expressing his feelings, would let you know how thankful he was to have you in his life the way he knew best: by pleasuring you to completion like no other person ever has before because no one has taken the time to learn every single reaction of your body like he had.

“Bruce…” you whined as your hand tugged at his hair. You needed more, you needed more than just his tongue inside of you so you pulled him up by the head, bringing him to your level, and attached your lips to his, tasting yourself on him, while your legs wound around his waist. You felt his hard cock brushing against your center through the fabric of his boxers and jolted at the slight pressure applied on your clitoris.

The two of you slowly and messily made out, Bruce’s right hand holding your cheek and his left one clutching onto your hip. Your hands had found their way to the waistband of his boxers, trying to pull them down to get what you wanted. Bruce helped you, his left hand leaving your hip to remove the only item of clothing still on, his mouth never detaching from yours as he did so.

Once fully nude, Bruce retracted from you, standing on his knees before dipping his fingers between your folds to gather some of your wetness and rub it over his dick. You watched him with anticipation, the sight before you something you could never get tired of. Your husband was straight out of a dream and, still to this day, you’d pinch yourself sometimes to make sure you were awake, that this was your life.

That somehow, Bruce Wayne fell in love with you.

But he was also so different from how he presented himself to the media, to the public, that sometimes you forgot you married the Bruce Wayne, heir to the powerful Wayne family, prince of Gotham. To you, he was just your silly husband who was incredibly hot and put everybody else before him.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Bruce brushed the tip of his cock against the lips of your pussy. “I hope I’m not too much of a bore, darling,” he said, a teasing undertone lacing his words.

“No, just admiring the view and how lucky I am that my husband is so damn hot,” you replied playfully though there were no lies to your answer.

“Clearly you haven’t looked at yourself in the mirror lately babe because I’m the lucky one,” Bruce told you, his eyes confidently holding yours to show how truthful he was. He lined himself with your entrance, his stare never leaving your face so that he could drink in your expressions when he sheathed himself to the hilt inside you.

The two of you groaned in pleasure and Bruce took a moment to bask in your warmth, his eyes roaming all over you.

“Especially when you look so goddamn gorgeous with my cock inside you,” he added onto his previous comment, making you roll your eyes at the machoness of his words.

“Shut up and start moving already,” you chuckled.

“As you wish, my darling,” he leaned down to kiss you again and started rolling his hips to a slow, steady pace.

You wrapped your legs around his waist again while your hands found their place at his nape, scratching his scalp and tugging his hair, making him moan in your mouth. Your tongues danced to the same rhythm as Bruce’s thrusts, the both of you drowning in the feeling of the other.

Sex with Bruce was usually more rapid, more frantic, more bruising, more fiery, and you loved it. You loved how he could make you forget about the gala happening right down the hallway and the handprints he’d unconsciously leave on your hips from his grip. But you also loved when sex with Bruce was languid with no hurry. When one made you forget everything, the other basked you in love and made you feel like you were in a dream.

Bruce’s mouth left yours to trail down your cheek, then your jaw, until it found its place in the crook of your neck. He deposited open mouthed kisses all over your skin, licking it and leaving small nips on it. He easily found the pulse point behind your ear and, knowing you could easily hide that spot, started sucking on it and doubled the pleasure building inside you.

It made your breath hitch and your nails dig in his back muscles, leaving small red crescents on his skin. You felt him smile against your skin, his pride always swelled up to the reactions he was able to pull out of you.

“Mph, you feel so good darling,” Bruce groaned in your ear and kissed it. “You always do.”

“And you make me feel so good baby,” you answered, squeezing your walls around him as you said so.

Bruce’s head appeared in your eyeline again, his famous grin on his lips as his eyes roamed over your face, full of love. “I love you,” he told you.

You were about to say ‘I love you’ back but he didn’t let you, claiming your mouth with his instead to drag you in another make out session. He changed the angle of his hips at the same time and the tip of his dick brushed your G-spot, making you mewl. Bruce’s left hand fell down to the back of your right thigh, gripping it tight as he held it a little higher. It allowed him to go about one more inch further, said spot now being hit with every thrust.

“Oh God, yes,” you freed your mouth from his as your head fell back, your eyes squeezing shut due to the pleasure gradually overtaking your senses.

“Look at me, darling,” Bruce asked you and you obeyed, struggling to keep your eyes open as the two of you held eye contact. “Are you close?”

He knew you were, he knew your body like the back of his hand, but he still asked you the question just to be sure.

You couldn’t answer him. Your mouth was in a permanent ‘o’ shape as breathy moans escaped your lips with every thrust and you were unable to focus for more than one second on how to speak. So you nodded your head yes.

Bruce’s hand that held your thigh let it go to instead dip between your legs, easily finding your clit and rubbing it in circles with just the right amount of pressure. He proudly watched as you unravelled beneath him, your orgasm hitting you with full force. As he helped you ride it out, he reached his own climax and fell over you, but still made sure to not put his entire weight on you, as the two of you caught your breath.

Your husband removed himself from inside you and rolled over to lay next to you on his side so he could face you. “I love you,” he said again, kissing your temple covered with a sheen of sweat.

You turned to face him, your hand reaching to hold his cheek as you replied, “I love you”. You kissed him on the lips, this time short and sweet, and Bruce laid on his back so you could snuggle up against him with your head on his chest.

“You know, we should wash up before the boys come knocking on our door,” you said after a few minutes of peace.

“Can we just stay in bed for another minute?” Bruce childishly whined, his fingers brushing up and down your bare bicep.

“You're such a big baby,” you teased him, chuckling.

“Well sorry I’m a little spent from our early morning activity,” he lightheartedly argued.

“Alright, I’ll make you a deal,” you said, rising on your elbows to look over him. “I’m going to the bathroom and I’ll bring back with me a wet cloth for you to wash yourself and then we can cuddle and maybe go back to sleep until Dick and Jason crash through the door to drag you downstairs and watch cartoons. Sounds like a deal?”

“Sounds like a really good deal to me,” Bruce answered, bringing you down to peck your lips before he rested his hands behind his head. “You should come down to the tower next time we’re looking to make a deal with another company.”

“Nah, I’m perfectly fine with leaving all that work to you,” you pecked his lips once again and stood up from the bed, not bothering to cover yourself up. “I’ll be right back,” you said behind your shoulder as you walked towards the bathroom connected to your room.

Bruce didn’t hear you, too preoccupied with staring at your ass to focus on anything else. God, I’m the luckiest man in all of Gotham, he thought to himself before you disappeared through the door frame.

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Picture That Changed Everything | LN4

𓂃۶ৎ summary ━━━━━━━ A drunken mistake intensifies Lando and Y/N's playful dynamic, forcing Y/N to confront her growing feelings. After a Grand Prix win, Lando returns to London, ready to prove his love.

𓂃۶ৎ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

𓂃۶ৎ word count ━━━━━━━ 4.5k

Saturday Morning – London

Y/N’s alarm buzzed harshly, pulling her from a restless sleep. She groaned, rolling onto her side and hitting the snooze button with more force than necessary. It was the weekend, yet she still woke early out of habit. Her small apartment felt unusually quiet. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, letting the soft light streaming through the curtains illuminate her messy bedroom.

London was cold, but the thought of meeting her friends later kept her spirits up. As she shuffled into the kitchen to make her morning coffee, her phone buzzed with a notification.

“You have a delivery arriving this morning. See you soon, Y/N. 😉”

Her heart jumped slightly as she read the message. It was from Lando. The same Lando Norris who, for the past six months, had made it his mission to win her over. She placed her phone on the counter and stared at the message, her mind replaying every interaction they’d had.

Lando. The name alone carried so much weight. The charming F1 driver who was known for his playful demeanor and undeniable talent. And yet, despite his fame, his attention was laser-focused on her.

“Stop overthinking it,” she mumbled to herself, focusing on the steaming cup of coffee in her hands.

Just as she took a sip, the doorbell rang. She opened the door to find a delivery man holding a massive bouquet of roses.

“These are for you, miss,” he said with a polite smile.

Her cheeks warmed as she signed for the flowers. She carried the bouquet inside and set it on the counter, inhaling their sweet fragrance. A small card nestled among the petals caught her attention. She opened it, her pulse quickening as she read his familiar handwriting.

“Just something to brighten your day. Hope to see that beautiful smile soon. - Lando”

Her fingers brushed over the words, her stomach flipping. “He’s relentless,” she whispered.

Saturday Night – London

After a lively evening with her friends, Y/N stumbled into her apartment, the faint buzz of wine humming in her veins. The cold November air had left her cheeks flushed, her skin tingling as she kicked off her heels and stepped onto the plush carpet of her cozy London flat.

Her apartment was small but warm, filled with touches of her personality—bookshelves stacked with novels she loved, a collection of scented candles, and fairy lights that gave the room a soft glow. She sighed, relishing the silence after the laughter and noise of the bustling city.

Her eyes landed on the bouquet of roses sitting in a crystal vase on her kitchen counter. Their vibrant red petals were still as fresh as when they had been delivered that morning, a testament to Lando’s thoughtfulness.

Lando.

The thought of him made her pause. Despite her efforts to keep him at arm’s length, he always found a way to worm himself into her thoughts.

She walked over to the flowers, trailing her fingers over the soft petals. A small smile tugged at her lips, unbidden but undeniable. She hated how easily he could make her feel special.

Her slightly tipsy state had loosened her usual guard. She reached for her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she unlocked it. Her messages with Lando were already open; the last text was from him earlier that morning, teasing her about his latest delivery.

“Just something to make you smile today. 😉”

Y/N rolled her eyes fondly, her heart skipping a beat.

“I should thank him,” she murmured to herself, her resolve softening. With a sigh, she reached for her phone. Her inbox was full of messages from friends and acquaintances, but she was drawn to Lando’s most recent text. She had kept their exchanges light, playful—nothing too serious. But tonight, the alcohol in her system loosened her usually guarded heart. She wanted to thank him for the flowers, to acknowledge the gesture that had clearly taken a lot of thought.

Her thumb hovered over the keyboard as she considered what to say. “Thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful. You’re too sweet, Lando,” she typed, pressing each key with a soft deliberation. Satisfied with her message, she attached the picture of the flowers she’d taken earlier in the evening.

She hit send, then yawned. The wine, the laughter, the entire night’s energy weighed on her, and she felt a sudden fatigue. She tossed her phone carelessly onto the bed, her head spinning as she made her way to the bathroom to wash up.

The phone, forgotten and unmonitored, sat on the bed as Y/N moved around her apartment, oblivious to the accidental drama that had just unfolded.

Saturday Afternoon – Las Vegas

Lando sat in his motorhome, scrolling aimlessly through his phone as he mentally prepared for qualifying.

It wasn’t unusual for Lando to check his messages during moments of downtime, especially when he was away. He and Y/N had struck up an unusual friendship six months ago, and while they hadn’t officially started dating, he was determined to make her see that he was serious about her. His messages were always light-hearted and teasing, but each one carried a clear undercurrent of affection. He wanted more from her, and he was willing to do whatever it took to prove it.

When his phone buzzed, he glanced down, his heart giving a small skip as he saw Y/N’s name on the screen. His heart jumped. It was rare for her to text him first, so he opened it immediately, eager to read her response.

“Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful. You’re too sweet, Lando.”

A smile tugged at his lips. She was sweet—she just didn’t realize how much she meant to him yet.

As he scrolled to the next message, his eyes widened. There it was. The picture.

But it wasn’t the one of the flowers.

It was Y/N, standing in front of a mirror in her bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of black lace panties, her arms barely covering her breasts. The pose was bold and sensual, her body perfectly framed by the mirror. The photo was stunning in its rawness, capturing Y/N in a rare moment of vulnerability, but also a certain power. It was impossible for him not to be captivated by it.

“Holy shit,” Lando whispered to himself, staring at the screen. He was momentarily stunned, trying to process the image. Was she joking? Was it real?

His fingers hovered over the screen. He blinked several times, trying to shake off his initial shock. It was definitely an accident. There was no way she had meant to send this. Still, the thought of Y/N being bold enough to send such an intimate photo, even by mistake, stirred something inside him.

Lando chuckled to himself, already knowing how to respond. He couldn't resist teasing her a little, especially given her usual cautious nature.

He quickly typed a reply:

“Thanks for the picture. Now I’ll definitely get pole position. 😏”

He hesitated briefly, debating if it was too much, then sent the message anyway.

He sat back in his chair, his grin widening. What the hell had just happened? He knew Y/N—she was usually so guarded, always putting up walls around herself. And yet, here she was, sending him a photo like that, albeit by accident. His mind raced as he tried to piece it together. Was she secretly interested in him? Did she have feelings for him that she wasn’t ready to admit? Or was it just the alcohol? Whatever it was, he knew one thing for sure: He wasn’t going to let this moment slip away.

Sunday Morning – London

The next morning, Y/N woke up with a headache. The wine had hit her harder than she’d realized, and her mind was cloudy as she struggled to remember the events of the previous evening. She groggily reached for her phone, a part of her already regretting the decision to check her messages. Her eyes squinted at the screen as she scanned through the notifications.

Then, her gaze froze on one particular message.A message from Lando.

Y/N’s stomach flipped as the realization slowly dawned on her. The picture. The one she had meant to send him was of the flowers. The one she had accidentally sent, however, was the photo of her standing topless in front of the mirror.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest. Panic swept through her as she scrambled to find the photo in the message thread. There it was, clear as day. Her reflection. Her bare chest. Her hands barely covering herself. Her face flushed bright red as she stared at the image.

She’d sent it to Lando. Of all people.

Y/N immediately typed out a frantic message:

“Oh my God, Lando! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to send that! Please delete it, I swear it was a mistake!”

She hit send quickly, holding her breath, hoping for a quick reply. But there was no immediate response. He was probably busy, and it was already late in Las Vegas.

Sunday Afternoon – London

Y/N spent the better part of the afternoon trapped in her own anxious thoughts. The hum of her apartment felt distant, the quiet punctuated only by the occasional sounds of passing cars and her own nervous pacing. Every few minutes, she would pick up her phone, check for any sign of a message, only to set it down again with a resigned sigh. The feeling of dread had been creeping in since the moment she realized the picture she had sent to Lando wasn't the one she intended.

It wasn’t just that she had sent the wrong photo—it was the fact that it was so… intimate. She’d never been one to be particularly free with her body, and now, in her slightly drunk state, she had sent a picture of herself in a moment of vulnerability. The picture wasn’t even something she had meant to capture; it was from another day, a rare moment when she had felt somewhat confident and playful in front of the mirror. She had never imagined that picture would fall into Lando’s hands, of all people. He didn’t just see it, though—he would think she had sent it to him on purpose. That terrified her more than anything.

Her mind raced, imagining his reaction. Would he laugh? Would he think less of her? Or worse, would he use it to tease her endlessly? She had a history of pushing people away, of keeping them at arm's length, and the thought of Lando seeing her like that—vulnerable and exposed—made her want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Yet, the hours dragged on, and still, no reply from him. She had spent half the afternoon pacing in a tight circle, sending herself into a spiral of anxiety. The silence was deafening, making her mind churn even more. She had been waiting, waiting for him to reply, waiting for him to somehow absolve her of her own embarrassment, but nothing had come.

Finally, her phone buzzed in her hand.

Y/N’s heart leapt, her fingers hesitating over the screen for a moment before she opened the message. Her stomach dropped when she saw it was from Lando. The fear of what might be waiting on the other side sent a cold rush through her veins, but she forced herself to open the message anyway.

Lando’s reply appeared, and for a brief moment, she thought her heart might stop.

“Well, that wasn’t what I expected to see, but I can’t say I’m complaining. I’ve got to admit, it’s a bold move, Y/N. I like it. But I’ll let you off the hook for now—focus on the flowers, not the picture. But you’ll owe me a proper thank you later. ;)”

Her breath hitched in her chest, the relief that flooded through her was almost overwhelming. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t uncomfortable. He wasn’t judging her. He was… teasing her? In a gentle, understanding way? Y/N had half expected him to laugh it off, to make a joke at her expense. But instead, he had actually made her feel… okay. Maybe even a little desirable.

Her fingers hovered over the screen as she thought of how to reply. She didn’t want to make it awkward again. She didn’t want to let him think that she was overthinking it—although, truth be told, she was.

Taking a deep breath, she began typing her response, trying to keep the tone lighthearted.

“Win the race first and then we’ll see.”

It was the perfect answer, a playful way to keep the conversation going without making it seem too serious. She had always been good at keeping things light, at deflecting deeper emotions, and this was no exception. She could almost hear Lando’s voice in her head, playful and teasing, as she hit send.

She couldn’t help but smile at her own response. It was bold, just the right amount of challenge. Lando wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily, though. She knew him well enough to know that if she was going to tease him, he would tease right back, and probably even harder.

And sure enough, his response came almost immediately.

“Challenge accepted. Be ready, Y/N. You’re not escaping me this time.”

The words sent a thrill through her, a mix of excitement and fear curling in her stomach. There was something about the way he said it—something that made her feel both exhilarated and terrified all at once. Lando had made his intentions clear. He wasn’t going to give up.

Her pulse quickened as she read the message again. You’re not escaping me this time. It felt like a promise, and at the same time, a warning. There was a sense of inevitability in his words, like he was planning on winning both the race and her.

Y/N smiled despite herself, the heat of the moment sweeping through her. There was no denying it. Lando had a way of making her feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time. He had a way of making her feel like she mattered.

And that scared her.

For a moment, she stared at the screen, biting her lip. How could she have gotten herself into this situation? She had spent the last six months trying to push him away, telling herself he was just another F1 driver with a history of fleeting relationships, and that she wasn’t going to get involved in something like that. Yet, here she was, teasing him back, looking forward to his response, waiting for him to come after her.

No, I can’t do this, she thought to herself. I can’t let him in.

But even as she thought that, she knew deep down that it was already too late.

She had been playing this game with him for months, and now, the stakes were higher than ever. He wasn’t backing down, and she wasn’t going to back down either—not yet, at least. She would wait. She would see what happened.

Taking one last deep breath, Y/N leaned back against the couch, setting her phone down beside her. She tried to focus on anything else, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Lando and his words.

“Be ready, Y/N.”

Was she ready? She didn’t know. She didn’t even know what being “ready” meant in this situation. Was it about giving in to the pull between them? Or was it about staying strong and keeping him at a distance, as she always had with everyone else?

She was still mulling over the idea when her phone buzzed again. Her heart skipped a beat, and she snatched it up immediately.

Lando had replied again, though this time the message was short, sweet, and completely different from anything she had expected.

“I’m serious, Y/N. You won’t be able to avoid me forever.”

Y/N’s stomach fluttered at his words. She could feel the heat rush to her cheeks as the weight of what he was saying settled on her.

He’s not going to stop, she thought. He really does want this.

And for some reason, that idea made her heart race.

Sunday Night – Las Vegas

Lando’s hands gripped the steering wheel with precision, the roar of the engine beneath him blending with the thunderous applause that reverberated throughout the stadium. His heart pounded as he pushed the car over the finish line, claiming victory at the Las Vegas Grand Prix. The lights in the sky seemed to explode in a cascade of colors as the race ended, and for a fleeting moment, Lando felt as if the entire world had paused to recognize his achievement.

But amidst the chaos of celebration, his thoughts weren't solely on the race he’d just conquered. They were on one person—the woman who had occupied his mind for the past few months, even if she didn’t know it. Y/N. The image of her accidentally sending him that picture, her barely covered figure from the mirror, had been lingering in his mind ever since. The playful teasing, the witty banter—they had opened a door to something he hadn’t anticipated. Lando’s thoughts, both sharp and racing as fast as the car he had just driven, kept returning to her.

She had challenged him, after all. "Win the race and then we’ll see."

He had won. Now it was time to prove he was serious about this, about her, about the promise he had made to show up for her. The thought of being with her, seeing her again, and experiencing whatever would come next had his pulse quickening with anticipation. He wasn’t about to let this chance slip through his fingers. Not now.

As he crossed the finish line, the radio crackled in his earpiece with the excited voices of his team. Cheers erupted from all sides, and yet, Lando’s smile was tinged with a hint of mischief. The celebration felt like a blur of noise and flashing lights, but he only had one goal in mind. The trophy, the accolades, and the high-fives from his crew—all of that could wait. What mattered now was Y/N.

He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips as he stood on the podium. He’d shown up for this race, fought hard for this victory, but in the back of his mind, it was Y/N who had been his motivator all along. That picture, that small moment of vulnerability, had become a symbol for him. A moment of bravery, of her letting down the walls she’d so carefully built around herself. And that was something he wasn’t going to forget.

Once the ceremony ended and the celebrations started to wind down, Lando didn’t waste any time. He made his way straight to the airport, bypassing the usual after-race parties in favor of a private flight back to London. He was determined to keep his promise to Y/N—he would go straight to her.

Monday Afternoon – London

Lando stepped out of the car and onto the rainy streets of London, his mind still racing from the victory he had just claimed in Las Vegas. The flight back had been long and filled with anticipation, the hours stretched out as he thought about the moment he had promised to make real. He had won the Grand Prix, and now, it was time to win her heart, if she would allow him to.

His heart pounded as he walked through the quiet streets, the city’s usual hum muffled by the rain. The sky was overcast, typical for London, but Lando didn’t mind. He was focused on one thing, and one thing only: Y/N. The text message exchange, the teasing, the unspoken chemistry—it had all led to this. He had made a promise, and now it was time to deliver.

As he approached her building, he felt a nervous flutter in his stomach. It had been months since they’d first met, and now everything felt so much more real. He had flirted, teased, and pushed the boundaries between them, but he knew this moment wasn’t about games. He had meant what he said—he wasn’t going to let her get away.

Lando looked up at the tall building in front of him, the weight of the situation finally sinking in. This wasn’t just a casual flirtation anymore. This was about proving he could be the man she needed. He wasn’t some passing celebrity crush or a racing driver who could be easily dismissed. No, he was here to show her that he was serious. About her. About them.

He rang the bell and waited, his breath shallow with anticipation. When the door swung open, he saw Y/N standing there, looking as beautiful as ever. But this time, she wasn’t just the quiet, shy woman he had come to know. No, now she was the woman who had sent him that picture—the one that had both embarrassed her and captivated him in equal measure.

Y/N blinked in surprise, clearly still trying to process the fact that Lando was standing in front of her. She hadn’t expected him to show up so soon. The night had been filled with texts, emotions, and nerves, but the reality of his presence hit her like a wave. She had been dreading this moment for days, not because she didn’t want to see him, but because she didn’t know how to handle the growing attraction between them.

“What are you doing here?” she stammered, trying to keep her composure.

Lando’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he stepped forward. “I won the race, didn’t I?” His voice was smooth, teasing, but there was an underlying seriousness that Y/N couldn’t ignore. “You told me to win, and then we’d see. Well, here I am. Ready to see what happens next.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. It was both a challenge and an invitation—an unspoken promise that whatever came next was up to them.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” she admitted, still grappling with the shock of his sudden appearance.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Lando’s grin widened, and he reached a hand up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was electric, and Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat. “I told you I would. I keep my promises.”

There was something in his voice, something sincere and direct, that made Y/N’s defenses start to crumble. She had expected him to be cocky, to keep things playful, but his presence here, standing in front of her like he had nothing to lose, was different. This was no longer just a game. This was real.

“Come on, Y/N,” Lando continued, stepping a little closer. “You know you can’t hide from me forever.” His voice lowered, his words almost a challenge, but his eyes were soft, full of something deeper. “You said once I won, you’d see. Well, I won. Now, let’s see where this takes us.”

Y/N felt her heart race, her breath growing shallow. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but the one thing that stood out above all the others was how impossible it felt to deny the pull she felt toward him. She had resisted him for so long, pushed him away with her shy walls and her need for distance. But in this moment, with him standing so close, she realized that the walls she had carefully built were starting to crumble.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She needed to understand. Why had Lando gone through so much trouble for someone like her? Was it just another game to him, another flirtation that would eventually fade away, or was he truly serious?

Lando’s gaze softened, and for a moment, he simply stared at her as if considering her question. He stepped even closer, his warmth radiating toward her. His voice, when he spoke, was low and steady, as if he was speaking directly from the heart.

“Because I want you, Y/N,” he said simply. “And I’m not going to let you hide from me anymore. You’ve been running, but it’s time to stop. I want to see where this goes. No games. Just us. No more pushing each other away.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The intensity in his eyes was enough to send a shiver down her spine. This wasn’t just Lando the driver, the flirt, the charming guy who always seemed to be surrounded by admirers. No, this was Lando, the man who was willing to take a chance on her, who wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable with her.

“I’m not sure I can just—” she began, but Lando placed a finger gently to her lips, silencing her.

“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” he murmured. “I’m not here to rush you. I’m here to show you that I’m serious. We’ll take this slow, but you need to know that I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/N stared at him, her heart hammering in her chest. Part of her wanted to pull away, to protect herself from the intensity of the moment. But another part of her, the part that had been secretly longing for something real, felt herself drawn to him. The truth was, she couldn’t deny how much she wanted him too. And now that he was here, making it impossible for her to ignore the chemistry between them, she knew that the moment of truth had finally arrived.

“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t expect you to be so... serious.”

Lando smiled, a genuine smile this time. He reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands, his thumb brushing softly over her cheek.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he replied. “Just know that I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

The words hung in the air between them, charged with an unspoken promise. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N found herself letting go of her reservations. The walls she had built, the fear she had harbored, all seemed to fall away in the face of Lando’s sincerity. She could see it in his eyes—the truth behind every word.

And before she could stop herself, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them, and kissed him. It was gentle at first, a tentative exploration, as if they were both testing the waters, but it quickly deepened. Lando responded with equal fervor, his hands sliding down to rest on her hips, pulling her closer.

For that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the past, not the fears, not the uncertainties that had clouded her mind. It was just them, in that space, wrapped up in each other, finally allowing themselves to be vulnerable.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N’s breath was ragged, her heart pounding in her chest. Lando’s forehead rested against hers, his breath as unsteady as hers.

“See?” he whispered, his voice warm and reassuring. “No more running.”

Y/N smiled softly, her heart still racing. “I guess we’ll see where this goes.''

Lando’s grin was playful, but his eyes told a different story—one of determination and hope. “I’m ready to find out.”

[minkieater]

EIGHT FIRST DATES ꨄ︎

003 》 KIM MINGYU

maybe boys your age just weren’t your thing. after a sudden lunch date, you were already half convinced the search was over— had you found the man you were bringing to your family’s thanksgiving? how will chan take the news?

wc ~10k | mentions of death, age gap, mingyu is hot, smut mdni, fingering, dirty talk

you’d thought about yunho’s words all the way until your head hit the pillow saturday night. no one’s ever said anything like that to you before– no one’s ever needed to. 

you knew yunho only cared for you the way your family, san and yeosang cared for you, but you couldn’t shake it. maybe it was just your brain on overdrive after the previous forty eight hours, maybe you were making something out of nothing. 

yunho’s always been nothing but honest with you, he wouldn’t say something without saying it. he had no reason to beat around the bush, if there was any bush to begin with. 

so— you shook it off and texted mingyu. at approximately nine forty eight in the morning on a sunday, feeling like you hadn’t gotten any sleep at all. 

you: hey this is tiny from last night :) 

— incoming call from kim mingyu…

you shot up in bed, your soul nearly leaving your body as you pressed the little green circle, your tired voice stumbling out a meek “h-hello?” 

“hey, it’s mingyu,” he sounded chipper, as if he’d been awake for hours already. you shot a hand through your hair, hopping out of bed as if he could see you through the phone. 

“i know who you are, i texted you,” you said, then shook your head, eyes screwed tight. you didn’t know if he’d hear the humor in your voice or if you sounded rude over the phone, you tried to play it off with “what’s up?” as you paced around your bedroom. 

“just finished up a meeting, heading home now. did you just wake up?” you could almost see his face over the phone, hear his smile. you threw your head back, all worries forgotten, knees bending to sit back on your mattress– he’s so hot. 

“maybe,” you bit your lip, fighting a smile. the little balls of cotton that had pilled up on your comforter were suddenly the most interesting thing ever, mindlessly rolling them between your fingers as he spoke. 

he laughed through the phone, a hearty chuckle that was music to your ears, “you think after you have a cup of coffee to wake your pretty head up, you’d be free to meet me for lunch?”

your eyes shot open, jaw falling open, “today?!” 

“yes today, silly girl, are you free?” you glanced around your room frantically as if something in there would give you the answer, but as you looked at your calendar hung on the wall and there was nothing but blank space under today’s date, there was zero reason to say no. 

you nodded as your words came out, “i- um, yeah i’m free.” your voice had become quieter, more coy— you couldn’t believe your own decision. 

“perfect, i have a place in mind, do you want me to pick you up or would you prefer to meet me there?” oh, your mind was in shambles. too many questions, too many decisions, far too soon after opening your eyes. 

“i wouldn’t want you to come all the way to get me, i can meet you,” you reassured him, a nervous chuckle following your words. 

“it’s no problem sweetheart, whatever you’re comfortable with. i’ll text you where and you let me know, yeah? i’m thinking two, does that work for you?” his voice was saccharine— you swooned over how sweetheart danced off his lips all the way through the speaker of your phone. you laid back, flat against your mattress, massive smile on your face. 

all you could respond was a breathy “that’s perfect.” 

you’d never gotten in the shower so fast in your life. with your hair still wet, a robe wrapped around your body, you raced down to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee, smiling to yourself because mingyu was the one who mentioned coffee in the first place. 

ace was sat on the counter of the island, your sister’s head in the refrigerator, both chatting before you padded into the kitchen. 

“vi, grab me the oat milk please?” you asked as you poured your coffee into your mug. sixteen and in her sassy phase, vivi was an enigma, you swore she assumed the world revolved around her. 

she handed you the flavored oat milk with a lifted top lip, “gross.”

“first of all, it’s good. second of all, you say that every time as if i drink nut milk out of choice. i don’t want to be glued to the toilet all day,” you poured your milk into your cup, giving it a swirl before taking a sip. so good. 

she cracks a smile, “crazy how a wee sip of milk can take you down. weak shit.”

you roll your eyes then look to ace for help, who just throws his hands up in defense with an amused smile. him and vivi must be friends today. 

as you make your way out of the kitchen, vivi calls after you, “tiny, can you take me to work later?” 

“i won’t be home!” you yell back from the stairs, making your way back to your room. 

you had barely even started doing your hair before vivi was on your bed, a thousand questions on the tip of her tongue. “what are you doing that you won’t be home? all the boys are coming here.” 

“i know more people than just them, you know,” you rolled your eyes, your hands in your hair. 

a sarcastic chuckle fled her lips like she was waiting for that answer, “like who? karina, sakura?”

your jaw locks, as if hanging out with your cousins was embarrassing. it was true that you didn’t bring your friends from school around, or hung out with any of them much outside of classes. the boys had met some of them, the few times you’d brought them to the frats with you over the years — that quickly ended when ace hooked up with one too many of your friends. 

“i’m going on a lunch date,” you pointed your gaze at her through the reflection of the mirror, “can you leave so i can get ready?” 

with raised eyebrows she stood, “dad says you’ve been going on a lot of dates lately.”

your entire body tensed, “matt should mind his own business.”

“i don’t think it was an insult,” she shrugged, “i think it’s good you’re finally getting some.” 

you turned your entire body around to face her and snapped, “i think everyone should stop talking about what i’m doing, especially matt who has no fucking business talking to my little sister about who i’m seeing.” 

mascara coated lashes blinked at you, not an ounce of sincerity in her voice as she plainly said, “you really need to talk to someone, tiny.”

“get out of my room, vi,” you turned back around, fighting every ounce of anger in your body, only taking a deep breath as you watched her blue hair bounce out of your room. hearing her refer to matt as dad always made you see red, something you couldn’t let go of, you weren’t sure if you ever would. 

you got ready with a scowl on your face, waiting until the last second to put on mascara just in case tears decided to show themselves– in situations like this, they always seemed to.

you decided you’d meet mingyu, the restaurant he chose for lunch was only thirty minutes into the city and you didn’t want to risk repeating what happened with chan. when you briefly looked at the menu online before choosing an outfit, you nearly choked on air when you saw the selection of food and the prices. 

this was not a chill lunch date— this was a lunch date. 

you panicked the entire car ride, realizing you didn’t know shit about mingyu. you didn’t think meeting hyunjin was sketchy because you knew so much about him already, you spent days talking to him and learning about him before you went out, it was the exact opposite with mingyu. you’ve met him, but you didn’t know him. 

on top of that, no one knew where you were going, no one knew who you were meeting, which was a first — if your armpits weren’t dampening at a rapid pace you could probably convince yourself it was exciting. 

mingyu is older, that much you know. the owner of a distillery, absolutely. wealthy enough to take you on an expensive lunch date, that was new information. your heart only pounded harder against your chest when you pulled into a parking space. 

“hey, sweetheart,” and just like that, your heart calmed in your chest, your breathing became normal. he wore black denim jeans, a light gray shirt that clung to every inch of his chest, the light band of skin around his wrist where his watch sat yesterday told you he was sporting a tan. golden, muscular, kim mingyu was anatomically perfect. 

he had to lean down to kiss your cheek and you burst into flames where his lips met your skin. fingers fidgeting with your sleeve, the toes of your shoes touching, you felt so small under his gaze it was electrifying. 

“mister kim, right this way,” the hostess approached you, two menus in her hand, the other pointed in the direction of your table. she sat you at a window table, a four top, you and mingyu sat across from each other closest to the window. you placed your purse on the chair next to you, your armpits beginning to dampen all over again. you needed to relax. 

“how are you?” he asked, a knowing smile playing on his lips. you cracked, you must’ve been radiating nerves, a smile breaking out on your own cheeks. 

“good, slightly nervous, but good,” you nodded through a laugh, getting the words out with enough life to hopefully hide the real amount of nerves you were feeling. this was all so new. 

“nervous? no,” he gasped as if that was the silliest thing he’d ever heard, “how’s the little drunk blondie? did you get him home safe?”

“tucked him into bed and everything,” you nodded before you realized how that sounded, your eyes widening. “then i left– i just tucked him into bed. he was really drunk.”

“you don’t have to do that,” he pulled the menu into his hands, “i scouted you while you were on a date already, i’m well aware.”

your cheeks flushed as you grabbed your menu, grateful to have something to occupy your hands. your mouth pulled to one side, top lip swallowing your lower one. there was so much you wanted to know about him. 

your waitress came over and got your drink orders, mingyu also ordered a couple of his favorite appetizers, which you were grateful for, you hadn’t deciphered a single word off the menu yet. 

“speaking of blondie, you said he’s a friend from class, right?” mingyu met your gaze over his menu, “what are you studying?”

“education, i wanna be an elementary school teacher,” you nodded, “i’ve wanted to be a teacher ever since i can remember.”

you caught a glimpse of his canines in a smile, “are your students gonna call you miss tiny?”

you lifted your eyebrows, “that’s not a bad idea, actually. easy to pronounce, good for when i’m teaching phonics, too.”

he releases amusement through his nose, “you sound like a teacher already.”

“i should, i’m graduating this year,” you rack your eyes over the menu again, you almost wished they had a kids menu– there were too many options. 

“are you getting your bachelors degree?” he asks, settling himself into his chair, leaning into the back of it. you wished the table wasn’t between you– you wanted to see him leaned back, manspreading in all his glory. 

you nod in response and he points his eyes, “so that makes you… twenty one?”

“twenty two,” you correct, holding up two fingers. he shakes his head, smiling in disbelief, and all you can conjure up is “what?”

“i knew you were young, i was just thinking like twenty five young,” you think all the blood drained from your face as you stared at him, you must of had your question written all over your face. he holds up three fingers on one hand and makes a zero with the other, looking uneasy behind his hands. 

mingyu is… thirty. oh. you knew he was older from the jump. 

you lifted an eyebrow, “so?” 

he smiles. “i figured that would be a deal breaker.”

“it’s not every day the owner of a distillery hands you his business card and also happens to be under the age of thirty,” you shrug, “i don’t see why it would even be a concern, i’m an adult.”

he purses his lips, “your nickname is fitting, miss tiny.”

you roll your eyes again, “okay, your turn, thirty-year-old-distillery-owner kim mingyu.”

you didn’t know when you got comfortable, when words started freely flowing from your lips without a second thought, but you didn’t want it to stop. mingyu was too easy to talk to, the walls you had just put back up had come crumbling down within minutes— it was as if yunho didn’t say anything at all. 

the waitress drops off your drinks and appetizers then takes your entree order, you ordered whatever was least intimidating, the menu was so vast you couldn’t focus enough to even read the whole thing.  

“i’ll start with the distillery,” he says after a sip of his drink, he ordered his own brand of whiskey— neat. “i think it’s obvious i inherited it, the company was established in 1917, hence its name, by one of my ancestors back in the day. it trickled down the family tree until my dad inherited it in the seventies, then it became mine a few years ago.”

“so you’re a nepo baby?” you gave him a cocky smile as you picked at one of the appetizers, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

he tried to frown through a very clear smile, his lips scrunched together, “technically, yes, but i did go to college, i double majored in business and marketing with a minor in finance.”

“the fuck?” your eyebrows flew to your hairline, a hand covering the food in your mouth. “how the hell did you have the time? the energy? the brain?”

he laughed, “like you, i knew what i wanted from a very young age, what was waiting for me in the future. seventeen’s been alive for over a century, i’ll be damned if it dies with me.”

you sat back in your seat, letting a breath out, processing the insanity that is a double major and a minor in those fields. “you’re fucking crazy.”

“i did it, though,” he cocked his head to the side, pointing a finger at you, “look at me now, seventeen is sold in over one hundred countries, in thousands of stores, distributed through retail outlets, liquor stores, and major chains. it’s insane to me that i can get it in places like this,” he looks around you, “we’ve had to expand production capacity twice in four different countries since i’ve been CEO.”

“damn,” you blink, “you’re like, kind of an important person.” 

he chuckles, “no, i’m just a guy that fucking loves whiskey. the first time i can remember trying it was when i was fourteen, my old man told me to ‘take a sip and be a man about it’.”

“my dad let me try red wine when i was probably eleven,” you shrug, “i did not like it, i spit it on the floor and cried. still to this day it’s not my favorite.”

“red wine is easy work,” he raised a brow, “be a man about it.”

you smiled, “trust me, i’ve tried.”

the rest of lunch came and went with constant conversation, you talked with full mouths and a competition of who’s voice could be louder, the both of you having stories that reminded the other of another story, the cycle beginning and never ending. after your plates were cleared and your drinks were empty, the talk still flowed, so deep down a rabbit hole you couldn’t remember where the conversation began. 

mingyu reminded you of someone– you couldn’t put a finger on it, there was something about the tone of his voice, how he teased you, how he spoke with such a maturity yet accompanied by a silliness, it was almost nostalgic with how comfortable you felt with him. it was like you’d known each other forever the way you spat stories back and forth, it was like talking with yunho, yeosang or san– except your memories weren’t shared. refreshing couldn’t even begin to describe it. 

the lunch began with you soaking through your shirt and a heart pounding against your chest, but ended with sadness, clear disappointment that it was over. you didn’t hide it, you couldn’t if you tried with the way mingyu hugged you goodbye. 

“what’s your schedule look like for the rest of the week?” he asked as you stood beside your car, your back leaned against the driver’s side door and mingyu towering above you. 

“classes wednesday, thursday, friday. they all finish around three,” you nodded, “but other than that, i’m totally free.” 

he turned his head to the side, looking at you through lowered brows and pointed peripherals, “no job?”

you playfully smacked his arm, giggling, “i am very blessed and grateful for the life i live.”

“i’d hope so,” he smiled, “i’m free most nights, i’m super free wednesday night, my meetings end early that day. come over to my place and i’ll cook for us?”

you gave him a look that said be for real, “you just want to show off your supposed super awesome and amazing cooking skills.”

“what’s wrong with that?” he smirked and you nearly jumped him, “if i were you, i’d be jumping in excitement to feast on my super awesome and amazing cooking skills.”

“i guess,” you sighed as if you had no other option, “depends what you’re making.”

“i guess you’ll have to find out,” he mimicked you with a wink and you were transported to less than twenty four hours ago, when he stood behind the bar, his bar, and winked for the first time. you think you might be the luckiest human on earth. “i’ll call you after my work dinner.”

“work dinner still sounds wrong, you need to come up with a better name for that,” you leaned up off your car to give yourself space to open the door, a part of you hoping he’d kiss you goodbye. 

“now it will never get a new name simply because it bothers you,” he doesn’t step back, instead he closes the distance, before you know it his hand is under your chin and his lips press to your cheek, his other hand reaching behind you to open your car door. 

your cheeks flush, eyes focused on the lips that just touched your cheek as he pulled away. he noticed, of course he did, a cocky smirk growing, “come and see me on wednesday for the rest.”

you’d make a noise of disgust if it didn’t completely work on you, your abdomen clenched at his words. you needed him more than you’ve needed anything else in your entire life, there was no question about whether or not you were seeing him on wednesday. from the moment you saw him you were wrapped around his finger— hopefully you really would be on wednesday. 

“goodbye, mingyu,” your cheeks flushed, trying to sound normal, ignoring how your entire fucking body went hot as you climbed into your car, “thank you again for lunch.”

“bye, miss tiny, talk to you later,” he closed your car door with a smile, and then he was off to his own. when he was out of view you took a deep breath, then squealed. you couldn’t wait to tell everyone about him.

he did call you sunday night, but also monday morning, monday night, tuesday morning, tuesday afternoon and tuesday night. even wednesday morning when he knew you were walking up to your first class, kim mingyu couldn’t leave you alone. you talked about anything and everything, he told you about his day, you told him about yours, you even let yeosang yell hello into the speaker once (it was actually against your will). 

you didn’t give anyone any details— what you shared with yunho you kept with only yunho, you came home sunday with a big dumb smile on your face, sitting on your couch with your mind still standing outside your car with mingyu. the boys had asked, nosy as they are, but you couldn’t bring yourself to share any details or even tell them what you had done. maybe that was your problem, maybe hyunjin would’ve worked out if you never said anything in the first place. 

you shook your head at the thought, hyunjin had a one track mind when it came to you. maybe a part of you wanted to keep mingyu all to yourself, you wanted to share your excitement only with him, or at least wait it out until there was more to tell. you’re optimistic, you could see something blooming with mingyu, you could see yourself being with him long term— you knew your family would eat him up. but one question sat at the pit of your stomach, one you tried to keep buried, one you shouldn’t worry about because no one else’s opinion of mingyu should matter except yours. 

standing outside the double doors to your class, you took a deep breath. chan hasn’t texted you since saturday other than ‘thanks for taking me home’ on sunday, you haven’t texted him other than responding to that one singular message. tuesday night you’d prepared everything you were going to say to him after class, how to let him down easy. 

“hey!” his smile was as bright as it usually is, shaggy blonde hair cascading down his forehead, oversized hoodie hugging his frame. 

“hey chan,” you returned the smile, setting up your laptop and books around you. you were nervous, palms slightly sweaty, hands not fully stable as you prepared your deskspace. 

“so, i have a proposition for you,” he starts, body turned fully towards you. oh no, is he asking you out again?

“proposition?” you quirked a brow, still not giving him your full attention as you logged into your computer, pulling up today’s lecture. 

“my roommate won’t stop talking about you,” he says so casually it catches you off guard. you stare at him with a blank look, he has your full attention now, fingers stilling on your keyboard. 

“…roommate?” you ask, face contorted into something of confusion and surprise, until you remember the chipmunk that you fed a wave in chan’s kitchen. “oh, brown hair, glasses?” 

“yes! his name is han jisung, he keeps begging me to set you guys up,” chan shakes his head, still wearing a smile, “he keeps calling you an angel sent from above. we don’t have girls in the apartment very often.” 

“chan, i’m confused,” your eyebrows are furrowed now, you turn your body to face him as your fingers reach your temple. “i took you home after our date, and now you’re trying to set me up with your roommate who i only caught a glimpse of in your kitchen?” 

he pulls his lips together, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his head, “i didn’t know how to tell you because it sounds mean no matter how you put it, but i think we’d probably be better as friends.” 

you blinked at him, jaw slack, you thought he was going to say the exact opposite of the words that left his lips. you didn’t know if it was worse or better that you were going to say the same thing to him, but for him to beat you to it? sickening. 

“i’m sorry! please don’t hate me,” he pouted, grabbing your hands with his own, “i had a really good time, i’ve been dying to go to that distillery for ages, i’m eternally grateful you went with me.”

“i just… don’t think there’s anything between us romantically,” his cheeks were bright pink, a weak smile on his face, “but there could be between you and jisung.” 

“i– i don’t know what to say,” you felt dumbfounded, you were sure your face reflected that. “i’m flattered your roommate is interested in me, but i don’t think i’m interested in him. at least not right now.” 

chan lets go of your hands, his pout turning into a frown. “that’s okay, let me know if you change your mind. he goes to school here, he’s getting his bachelors in music composition. he’s really funny, super cool and ridiculously smart.” 

you nod, “i’ll let you know.” bringing your attention back to your laptop, all you could think was how much you wanted to tell mingyu— he’d find the entire situation hilarious. you could see him throwing his head back in laughter, teasing you for taking care of the little drunk blondie for an entire night just for him to break things off with you. 

the more you thought about it, the more that very thing began to irritate you. you barely heard a word out of your professor’s mouth, the lecture falling on deaf ears, only contemplating why chan broke it off with you first. you were pleasant, caring, let him do what he wanted without complaint, even cleaned up after him— and he had the nerve to say you weren’t compatible? irritating. 

as class ended, you packed your things up in record speed, hustling out of your lecture hall, but chan was quick to follow you. you didn’t necessarily hide the shift in your behavior, head in your laptop all class, not even looking at him once, even when he asked you questions you gave him curt answers and zero eye contact. 

“wait! what the hell,” he called after you just as you made it outside, wind whipping at your skin, blowing your hair in every direction. 

you stopped in your tracks, snapping your neck to look at him, “what else can i do for you?” 

chan looked confused now, his eyebrows knitted in such an adorable way it irritated you more. he sounded surprised as he asked, “are you mad at me?” 

“can i ask you something?” you didn’t wait for his answer, “why did you say there’s nothing between us romantically? you basically said we’re incompatible.” 

his lips flattened, he sighed as he looked down before saying. “i did not say we’re incompatible, i said we’d be better off as friends.” 

“i agree with you, but i want to know why you think that,” you stood your ground, arms crossed, probably with steam shooting from your ears into the chilly october air, your frustration was clear.

“fine. i was drunk, not blind,” he threw his hands up, “you didn’t seem to be into the date we were on at all, your head was somewhere else the second you got into my car. which was fine, i figured maybe you were having an off day, but then we got to the class and all you looked at was mingyu. i knew then that you just weren’t into me.” 

you purse your lips, cheeks flushing, it was embarrassing how quickly your anger turned to regret. you had no reason to be irritated in the first place, chan made his decision based on how you made him feel. 

“i’m not angry at you,” he shrugged, “and it didn’t really hurt my feelings. i think you’re cool and i want to be friends with you, going to the distillery was still a really fun experience.” 

“chan, i’m so sorry,” your palms hit your forehead, voice going weak. “that wasn’t fair to you at all.” 

“don’t get all sad, i said it didn’t hurt my feelings,” when you looked back at him he was smiling, hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “thanks for apologizing, if you wanna make it up to me you can go out with my roommate so he’ll leave me alone.” 

a smile broke out across your face, sniffing from how unusually cold it was. “i’ll think about it— just to make it up to you, though.” 

he rolled his eyes playfully, “i think you’ll really like him.”

you ran a hand through your hair, “i do need a boyfriend before thanksgiving.” 

your hand clasped over your mouth— you couldn’t believe you let that slip. chan looked at you like he was lost, “what do you mean by that?”

you sighed, defeated, thinking maybe chan was a good person to talk to about it. he wasn’t in your circle, wasn’t biased to anyone— plus he was no longer a contender. “let’s go get coffee or something, i’ll explain it all to you.” 

you and chan sat at the coffee shop on campus for an hour, you got everything off your chest. from how your cousins treated you, your sister, your entire family at this point to how you quickly came up with a lie to get them off your back. you told him about hyunjin, about mingyu, you told him everything and he listened to every word. 

you talked not only about the other men, but about your date with him, too. you talked everything out together down to the last detail, chan’s humor made you feel better, as if you had no worries in the world and your date with him was just two friends hanging out in the first place. you felt relieved after talking it out with him, he understood you, your feelings, even your thought process, giving you advice as much as he eased your worries. 

you didn’t think it was possible for you two to be friends after going on an entire date together, you didn’t think it’d be possible for anyone to. but with the person chan is kind, understanding, empathetic, he was more human than most people you’ve encountered at your university— you were relieved to know you could stay friends and keep him in your life. your boys would like him. 

then mingyu called, disrupting your coffee friend date entirely. chan was wiggling his eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes, picking up your phone. 

“hey sweetheart, how was class?” 

all of your worries seemed to flee. 

mingyu texted you his address, telling you to come over around six thirty. being after four already and he lived thirty minutes away, you panicked. you rushed home, nearly hitting four other cars on the way there, not even stopping to say hello to your family before you were taking an everything shower. 

knowing everyone was home, you were grateful no one stopped in your room to talk to you as you got ready, your lack of time to properly prepare had begun stressing you out before you walked in your front door. by six you were actually ready, a shock to everyone who would hear that sentence, and proud of yourself. 

your plan was to sneakily leave through the front door, quiet as a mouse. you didn’t want to be asked any questions, divulge any answers, no one needed to know anything about your whereabouts for the night. 

your twin and your friends sat in your living room, vivi on the farthest corner of the couch, all eyes pointed at the flat screen tv hung on the wall. you stayed close to the wall as you snuck around the corner, tip toeing through the entryway to the front door. as your fingers reached for the knob, you peered over your shoulder, only catching yunho’s eye before you slipped through the heavy slab of wood. you didn’t give him time to make a sound before you were gone. 

getting to mingyu’s house was hard, you hated driving in the city, but getting up to his place was even harder. he told you to tell the man working the desk your name and he’d guide you the rest of the way, but his instructions seemed too plain to get there, considering there were only two steps: get in the elevator and press ‘P’.

there was a special elevator off to the side of the lobby in his building, which seemed more like a hotel than anything, and the man working the desk had to swipe a card to let you in. you did as you were told, confused as ever, pressing P as soon as he swiped the card– the button all the way at the top of the operating panel. only as you moved upward in the elevator and you passed the top floor did everything begin to click– mingyu lived in the penthouse of his building. the penthouse. 

your nerves seemed to wake up as the elevator opened up, met with a full living room, all cream furniture and floor to ceiling windows. you were floored, not wanting to take a step forward until you sniffed. like a dog, your nose pulled you forward, the smell of whatever the hell mingyu was cooking completely entracing you. 

stood at the stove, his back to you, your nerves were so overwhelming you nearly turned around and got back in the elevator. old jazz music played through his apartment, the smell of dinner and mingyu flooding your nose as you looked around for a moment before greeting him — you needed to process. 

white marble countertops accented by a deep, ebony wood in the kitchen, cream tiled floors, a navy sectional in the living room accompanied by a matching ebony coffee table, a massive flat screen tv on the wall– you should’ve seen this coming. you knew he was wealthy, but this was more than anything you could’ve imagined. the place was so clean you were sure you could slide your finger across every surface and there would be no residue, you were willing to bet that not even a speck of dust sat on the ceiling fan that hung at least twelve feet above you. you were in heaven. 

“you scared the shit out of me,” mingyu called from the kitchen, taking his apron off as he rounded the corner of his kitchen island, “quiet girl.”

he snapped you out of your shock, ease consuming your now cold-sweating body, looking at him with a smile as you slipped off your boots by the elevator door, sock-covered feet padding along the cold tiled floor all the way to where he stood. he wrapped you in a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he said, “i’m happy you came.”

“me too, whatever you’re cooking smells amazing,” you say as you look up to him, arms still hooked around his waist, it was concerning how quickly his embrace could snap you out of a spiral. “this place is fucking incredible.”

“thank you,” his smile is infectious, so wide you couldn’t possibly wipe your own off your face. “hope you like steak– cooked with dairy free butter.”

“you remembered!” you exclaim, following him around the corner of the island, eyes looking from dish to dish laid out across the island. he really went all out, vegetables and sides and even a small charcuterie plate full of cheese and fruits. you looked up to him again, “all these, too?”

“come on,” he shook his head as if you were silly for even asking that question, “wouldn’t want to upset the tiny tummy.” 

your face flushed, you couldn’t believe your eyes, ears or nose– you told him once in quick conversation on sunday that you were lactose intolerant and he remembered, he made an entire dinner based around your restriction. you looked up at him with stars in your eyes, and he knew it, too. 

“i can’t believe this,” you shook your head as you stared the charcuterie board down, you were starving and the plate was calling your name. 

“sit and eat, we still have some time before dinner’s ready,” he slipped the apron back on over his head and you stifled a giggle at the sight before planting yourself down on a barstool on the opposite side of the island, picking at the plate of fruits and cheese. you took it easy on the cheese, just in case —you couldn’t help it— the fruit was more than enough for an appetizer. 

your head nodded along to the jazz music as he stood at the stove, cooking the steak, bouncing over to you every few minutes to steal a grape or plant a kiss on your forehead. it was oddly domestic, as if you’d been here before, meant to be in this exact situation. he asked you about class, you asked about his meetings, you went back and forth until he was plating everything, ignoring you every time you asked if he needed help— he answered the first time, he was done with the question after that.

“where do you wanna eat?” he looked to you across the island after everything was plated like you were at a michelin grade restaurant, maybe he was a chef in a past life. “we can eat at the table, on the couch, i can come sit next to you and we can eat here.”

you shrugged, “wherever you want to eat, chef, your house your rules.”

the corner of his mouth lifted, “i’ll come over there, don’t want the princess to have to move her seat.”

you looked up at the nickname, in your twenty two years of life only one other person had nicknamed you princess. you hadn’t heard the nickname since you were twelve, it was more comforting than you expected it to be. 

mingyu noticed your look, tilting his head to ask, “what?” as he moved your plates to your side of the island. 

“i just like that nickname,” you smiled before taking a sip of your drink, the surfside mingyu so graciously stopped at the liquor store to get– you make one joke about enjoying seltzers… 

“thank you for cooking,” you said as he clicked his glass of whiskey with your can, and he nodded in appreciation. 

“let’s eat!” he said with a wide smile, excitement exuding from his skin, you could see he loved cooking, especially for someone else. it made you curious about his other hobbies, what else he enjoyed besides cooking and seventeen, what made him as enamored as you were just by him. you wanted to know everything– every detail he wanted to share you’d embrace with open arms. 

the food didn’t just smell amazing, it tasted incredible— super awesome and amazing cooking skills, indeed. he seemed like the type to be talented at everything, the jack of all trades, you could just tell. he was perfect boyfriend material, he checked off everything on your more shallow list– with time, you were sure he’d check off everything. you could feel it.

you spoke as you ate, from how he learned to cook to how he expanded his skill, the other things he had interest in– he loves dogs, he likes to clean, fix anything that’s broken (he likes to figure it out himself), interior design, he likes to drive and insists he doesn’t have a driver, he likes fashion, you learned he speaks fast when he really enjoys something. you were precise with your questions, asking him specific details about things he enjoys just so he’d speak more, you loved every minute of it. you learned so much in such a short time, you became so engrossed in the conversation he ended up getting a lot out of you, too. 

it’d been at least forty five minutes since you finished your meal and you were still talking — you bickered about doing the dishes and you finally won, insisting that he at least let you load the dishwasher while he washed them. he agreed with a sour look on his face and your smile was nothing short of victorious, and then your conversation picked up right where it left off. you talked about yourself, how you like to clean, keep a tidy space, your family, your friends, your plans for the future, the upcoming holidays– he almost got it out of you, but you kept your composure, not repeating what happened with chan. 

by the time you made it to the couch, you were going back and forth about how you grew up, talking about your families. you were facing one another, you were sitting the same way– one leg on the couch, the other touching the floor, leaning your side against the back cushion. his couch was as comfortable as it was beautiful, navy velvet so soft to your skin you sunk right in. 

“okay, what’s something you’ve done since you were young, and you still do to this day?” he kept his eyes on you, soft and focused, making sure you knew he was listening. 

you squinted as you thought about it, racking your brain for any traditions you’ve kept with your family. “we have a holiday tradition,” you smile, cheeks flushing, not one hundred percent sure if you really wanted to talk about it– but it was the only thing you could think of, and at this point you trust mingyu enough to speak on it. “we’ve done this since i was twelve— our entire family comes over to my house, my mom and stepdad host, we have over seventy people in the house for thanksgiving and christmas. it’s my mom’s family, my dad’s family, my step dad's family, plus yeosang, san and yunho’s families, too.”

“how the hell do you cook for that many people?” mingyu stares at you in shock, eyes wide and eyebrows high. 

“cook? please, we cater,” you shake your head, “we all stand in the kitchen before we eat and we talk to my dad. whoever wants to, we just talk out in the open as if he was in the room, or telling stories about him. sometimes my dads’ friends stop by too, they did that more often when we were younger, but they’ll stop by and talk to him or even about him, too. my mom will always tell the same stories of how they met, how me and my siblings came to be, the days we were born, how they named us. it’s important to us around the holidays.”

you watched mingyu’s expression soften, but he also looked as if he was thinking, processing. he finally spoke, a hush to his words, a delicacy you were expecting, “i had no idea, i’m so sorry.” his hand felt warm as he laid it on your knee, “i love that tradition, i don’t doubt he’s there with you every time you talk to him.”

you gave him a smile, “thank you, it’s my favorite part about the holidays. after that i usually get berated for the rest of the day, if that counts as a tradition, too.”

he gives you a confused look through a laugh, “i don’t think that counts. we have a somewhat similar tradition– every year at christmas we make a toast to the ancestors who have owned seventeen, paying respect to the men who have made our lives what they are. we just added my grandpa to the list a few years ago, it’s special.”

“i love that so much,” you smile, “showing gratitude to the men who have supported your family all these years. that’s incredible.”

“it’s nothing like paying tribute to a lost parent,” his smile is a sad one, “but the holidays are such an emotional time, it’s important to keep their spirit alive. can i ask about your dad?”

“absolutely,” you nod your head, smiling at him, you were surprising yourself now. you didn’t talk about your dad with anyone other than your family and your boys. 

“when did he pass? how?” he asked, leaning his arm against the top of the couch, elbow bending to hold up his head. 

“my twin and i were twelve, my sister was six. ten years ago,” you nodded, thinking about the dinner you had with your family earlier this year, marking the decade of his passing. “fatal car accident, drunk driver hit him on his way home from work– he was a lawyer.”

he groaned, “i’m so fucking sorry, that must’ve been awful for your family to go through.”

“thank you, still is sometimes,” you shot him a tight lipped smile, “he was an incredible man, i’ve forced myself to burn every moment spent with him to memory, i think about him everyday.”

“what’s your step dad like?” he changed the subject and your body went rigid– you hated talking about matt. “when did your mom remarry?”

“eight years ago, i was fourteen. too soon, if you ask me,” you shift your legs, fighting your discomfort, “matt is… something. my siblings love him, vivi was too young to remember much about our dad, so matt was quick to fill the spot. same with ace, he gets along with matt, ace needed a father figure after he passed and matt fit right in with them. happy family,” your smile doesn't reach your eyes. 

mingyu points his eyes at you, “but you…?”

“i don’t like him, point blank period,” you release a nervous chuckle, “i despised him when i was thirteen, when they started dating, i didn’t go to their wedding. i hung out with my grandma, my dad’s mom, all day instead. me and matt have never seen eye to eye on anything.”

“why? is it just because he’s… not your dad?” mingyu crosses his arms, not in a judgemental way, but showing he truly just wanted to understand. “you don’t have to answer that.”

“you’re fine, it’s fine,” you shook your head, “he just isn’t the same to me as he is to ace and vivi, and that’s probably partially on me because i never let him in. i hated him when i was younger because he isn’t my dad and he never will be, i thought my siblings looked at him like a replacement and it made me sick.” 

“i know he has good qualities but we never formed a bond, i never gave him the opportunity to. he tries to parent me even now and it’s almost funny at this point, i can’t bring myself to accept him. he will never be a parent to me, he’s just a guy who lives in my house.”

mingyu’s nod is slow as he processes, arms uncrossing to put one up on the back of the couch again, “what do your siblings think about him?”

“vivi fully thinks i have issues, ace sees my side a lot, he understands me. tries to be a buffer between matt and i, defends me to matt but defends matt to me,” you couldn’t believe that you were letting all of this information out so easily, but it made you feel better knowing mingyu was the one receiving it. 

“of course he does, you got the twin thing going on,” mingyu nods, “i’m happy ace is at least on your side. i’d like to meet him, eventually.”

“meet ace?!” you ask, eyebrows raised, then you thought about it for a second — ace would probably like mingyu, and mingyu would probably like ace. “actually, he’d probably like you.”

“probably?” mingyu puts a hand over his heart, eyebrows furrowed and jaw agape like that hurt his feelings, “everybody likes me.”

you giggle, “ace wouldn’t be the hard one to crack, matt would probably like you, too. my friends would be the ones giving you a hard time.”

“ah, yeosang, san and yunho, right? the three musketeers?” he smiles, “most guys would be terrified if they had a beautiful girl over and her three best friends were guys.” 

you laugh, “not for nothing, you and yunho are probably matched in height– he’s the scary one. the other two are just stupid, but they’re my people.”

“he might be as tall as me, but is he as big as me?” mingyu wiggles his eyebrows, making you laugh again. “i want to know your people.”

“yunho is just as tall, but san might be as big as you,” you lift your brows with a tilt of your head, “but you guys could go to the gym together, bunch of doritos.”

that made mingyu’s head fall back in laughter, you joining him before he reaches over to grab your hand, his face falling serious. “thank you for sharing all of that with me, i know it took a lot to be able to say all of that.”

you nod, “for some reason, i trust you. i know we just met,” you shrugged, cheeks flushing, “i don’t know, there’s something about you, i guess. i really like you.” 

a smile spreads across mingyu’s face and you feel him tug at your wrist, pulling you forward. you were already inches apart before, but now you’re nearly in his lap, faces mere centimeters apart. your ears burn as he looks into your eyes, searching for something you couldn’t place, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. 

“i really like you, too,” he smiles for a split second before he leans forward, attaching his lips to yours, and in that moment you feel every puzzle piece in your brain fit into place. every single feeling of nostalgia, feeling so comfortable with him so fast, sharing so much about yourself when you barely knew the guy– this was why. 

everything about kissing kim mingyu felt right, as if you were searching for this your entire life, as if all of those years spent alone and uninterested in dating were actually spent waiting for him. every decision you’ve made, every person you’ve met, the dates you went on before this– it was all to lead you to him. sparks, fireworks, whatever people say about meeting the one, you could add to the conversation now because you understood. 

he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and you moan. you couldn’t help it, couldn’t fight it, every single nerve ending in your body was on fire. his hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, your hands flying up to his shoulders, wanting to feel every inch of him. 

“been waiting to do this,” he whispered between kisses, his breath hot on your mouth, eyes closed. 

you smile into the kiss, his words amplifying your hunger, your hands trailing from his shoulders to his chest, laying your palms flat against his muscled chest. you broke the kiss again, “you’re so fucking sexy.”

“i should be saying that to you,” his hands move from your neck down your back until they scoop under your ass, pulling you onto his lap with ease as he shifts to sit forward, your bodies fully changing position. you gasp at the movement, wrapping your thighs around him, hands clinging to his shoulders again. the thought that he could flip you around with as much ease as he just showed you had your brain doing cartwheels, you could tell just by looking at mingyu that he was strong, but him proving it was a completely different story. 

he caught your lips with his own again, hands still under your ass until they moved to your hips, digging his thumbs into your skin. you moaned into his mouth at the feeling and he let out a deep groan, rocking your hips forward. when you felt him beneath you, you couldn’t help but gasp, another sound of pleasure escaping your lips and he smiled into you, whispering, “want you so bad, princess.”

your head falls forward, eyes screwed shut, the stimulation too good to be over layers of clothes. you blamed his actions on sunday, you’ve been thinking about him like this every night before bed with a hand between your thighs, now it’s actually happening. you supposed this is what it was like to be with someone you connected with on a deeper level, your body was responding quicker than your head was, getting lost in a fog, hands trailing to his neck, his jaw– you needed to feel all of him. 

he let out a grunt, “take it easy,” he stilled your hips with massive palms, you hadn’t even realized you began moving on your own. “tonight’s about you.”

“want you so bad, gyu,” you were breathless, you sounded like an animal– voice shaky, nearly whining because he stopped you. 

he chuckled, voice octaves deeper than it had been, “you’ll have me, but not yet.”

you sat back on his thighs, baffled, eyebrows knitted in clear irritation, “what do you mean, not yet?” 

his smile only grew, “i’ll take care of you, i promise,” he spread his thighs which in turn spread yours, his hands trailing up your legs from your knee to your hips. “so spoiled already, what am i gonna do with you?”

you watched his hands travel across your body, back involuntarily arching at his touch, mewls slipping from your lips. you were losing it– fuck waiting, you needed him, you reached for his zipper. 

he grabs your wrist before you reach it, making you whine. “did you not hear me when i said tonight’s about you? is your pretty head already too fuzzy for you to think correctly?” 

you pouted, looking up to him, trying to mimic chan’s doe eyes as best you could. “please,” you begged, “want to touch you so bad.” 

“begging will get you nowhere,” he leaned back on the couch, a sense of authority filling the space between you, curbing your behavior entirely. “you’ll take what i give you, right?” 

you nod, falling into submission with ease, and the smile that grows on his face is despicable. he praises, “good girl, thought so,” before he tugs your wrists forward, and your lips are on his again. 

they’re nastier this time, all tongue and teeth, and his hands are everywhere. on your back, on your hips, on your chest, the noises you let out would be embarrassing if you could think about it for longer than half a second. when his thumbs travel up your inner thighs you stiffen, your back arching, moaning into his mouth and he laughs, his chest rising into yours. 

“relax for me, princess,” he says into your mouth and you obey without even thinking about it, body sinking into his. he slips his right palm between your legs to cup your center over your pants and you grind yourself into him involuntarily, releasing a gasp as you finally get stimulation where you needed it most. 

your head falls forward again, breaths growing heavy at the contact. he switches to two fingers instead, adding pressure along your clothed slit, pausing at your clit to rub small circles. you moans are pathetic, grinding into his hand, begging for more but you didn’t dare say it. 

“yeah, there you go,” he encourages, voice low and directly in your ear as you grind against his fingers, he doesn’t stop talking, “gonna cum on my fingers when i haven’t even taken your pants off? my girl is so desperate.” 

your moans raise in pitch at his words, the slight degradation only getting you there faster, you could taste your orgasm. you didn’t know you were into that kind of thing— you never had any experience in it, you and mingyu certainly didn’t talk about it beforehand. 

“go ahead, princess, cum for me,” he encourages and you lose it, unraveling on his hand, his words tipping you over the edge. your moans are strangled in your throat as you finally release, breath stilling as your head sinks entirely onto his shoulder, his hand still riding you through it. when you back off his touch he halts his movement, bringing a hand up to your hair, fingers lightly scratching your scalp as he praises you. “so good for me, baby, did so good.”

you whimper in response, body completely spent on his lap, limp hands resting on his chest as his thumbs sneak down to hook in your waistband. you could hear his grin in his words, “i hope you don’t think i’m done with you yet, wanna see your pretty face cum on my fingers.” 

you lifted your hips off of him and he slips the fabric down your legs one after the other, your brain completely fogged over, too fucked to do anything else but comply. you’d do whatever he said in this state, as long as he kept talking to you. 

when you sat back down on his lap his thighs were spread again, your legs sat wide over his own, pussy on display for eyes that couldn’t see it. he bared his teeth in a smile, head laying atop the back of the couch, looking at you through lowered eyes. it should’ve been mortifying, being so exposed to him when he hadn't even taken his shirt off, but the feeling didn’t come to mind when he looked at you as if he'd eat you alive. 

“so good,” he praised, the smile not once leaving his face, “you wanna cum again, don’t you baby?”

you nod, whimpering, hips bucking into nothing beneath them. mingyu was so hard, you could see the ridiculous tent in his pants, you were nearly drooling at the sight. you want to see him, touch him, taste the full length of him— it was cruel how he was keeping himself from you, but you still didn’t tell him, maybe he’d praise you more if you didn’t. 

“say it,” his hands were on your bare hips, the skin on skin contact had you heaving. you couldn’t form any words other than make me cum, begging three times before his hands moved.  

his fingers moved to your core and his lips were on yours again as his fingers slipped inside, index and middle, immediately curling inside of you. you plunged forward, your entire abdomen folding, the slight overstimulation combined with how thick his fingers felt inside of you was devastating. you were louder now, moans turning to cries, hips driving forward to match the thrusts of his fingers. 

“fuck, mingyu,” words returned to you, a moment of clarity in the midst of the fog, “feels so fucking good, please don’t stop.” 

“there she is,” his lips attached to your jaw, kissing down your neck as his fingers created a rhythm, “came back to me, hmm?” 

“yes,” you moaned out, words breathy and light, “want you to watch me when i cum.” 

he groaned, head falling back onto the couch again, his other hand reaching forward to rub your clit again. you cried out curses, watching mingyu as he watched you. you whimpered, “wanna feel you so bad, want you to fuck me gyu.” 

his eyebrows furrowed, jaw going slack, quickening his pace on your clit. you could feel another orgasm forming in the pit of your stomach, eyes falling shut, head lolling forward before you snapped it back upright. he wanted to see you, you’d let him have whatever he wanted. 

“so close,” you cried, he was so fucking good at this— not once did the rhythm he created falter as you thrashed against him, following your hips with experienced fingers. “gonna cum, gyu.” 

“cum all over my fingers baby, give it to me,” he leaned forward, catching your lips with his own in a kiss before he growled, “cum for me.” 

the order had you seeing stars behind your eyelids, your body obeying without you even processing it, shaking in his arms as you got lost in your orgasm like a fucking riptide. this one was far more powerful than the last, it took you longer to ride out the full length of it, the aftershocks hitting you in tremors. 

“good girl, that was so hot,” his voice was strained as he praised you, clearly trying to hold himself back, but you couldn’t place why he wouldn’t do anything about it. 

“want you inside,” you said into his neck, head fallen onto his shoulder by now, small aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through you. his hands rubbed your back, soothing touches to bring you back, a huff of amusement leaving his lips. 

“you’re insatiable,” he teased, hand dropping to leave a small tap on your bare ass. “you’ll have me another night.” 

“why?” you whined, body curling into his further, arms laying limp at your sides, “you don’t wanna fuck me?” 

“don’t do that,” he planted a kiss to the side of your head as his hands continued, leaving calming strokes on your back, “be patient.” 

you sit up slowly, “i don’t want to be patient.” 

“then call up the blondie,” he shot you an amused smile, “i’m sure he’ll be glad to fix your issue.” 

“mingyu,” you huffed, “that’s not funny. i’ll be patient.” 

“never heard a woman complain after coming twice,” he shook his head, watching with careful eyes as you stood off his lap, reaching for your pants. 

“i am so sorry that i want your cock so bad i’m begging for it,” you teased back as you slipped them up your legs, a playful smile on your lips. 

he lifted a brow, “touché.”

you stayed at mingyu’s place for hours after, half listening to whatever movie he put on his tv while you fought to not get lost in conversation. it was too hard when he put on a romcom, the first time he nitpicked a detail the fight was over, entering a debate about how stupid it was for the main girl to be interested in the man who was clearly an asshole. mingyu thought it was stupid, you stood up for the girl– you’ve been there too many times to not stick up for her. at least half the movie was spent talking about the movie.

you spent the other half of it lazily kissing, hands traveling across each other’s skin, he let you maneuver your hands under his shirt, feeling his chiseled abdomen, his chest, his back— you were right, every part of him was strong. his fingers had slipped under your pants again, the movie was over for far too long before the two of you had come up for air. 

but he still didn’t take it further— didn’t let you touch him below his belt. you couldn’t understand why, until he finally gave you a reason, “i just want to wait, i know it’s old fashioned. don’t make fun of me.” 

your body went hot, you were now convinced that anything he did could turn you on. “until when?! marriage?!” you joked, and he only responded by pressing his lips to yours again, effectively shutting you up.

you didn’t want to leave– you knew mingyu had meetings early the next morning, you had classes, but his couch was so comfortable, the blanket he threw over you was so cozy, you couldn’t fathom going outside in the cold air or sitting in your car that would take way too long to warm up. you felt like you were in your own bubble, just you and mingyu, no one knew where you were or what you were doing. you didn’t want it to end. 

you checked your phone after hours, your phone screen flooded with notifications. you scrolled through as mingyu traced patterns along your stomach over the blanket, his head lying just below it, both of you sideways on his massive sectional. 

8:28 pm

yeo: tiny are u alive

8:51 pm

yeo: tiny i am getting nervous yeo: pls answer

it being past ten now, you were scared to continue scrolling. 

9:23 pm

sannie: yeo is tweaking sannie: he is telling ace lol

you sighed, eyes closing, your bubble was burst. 

9:31 pm

yeo: ace did not gaf yeo: bro said ur prolly on another date yeo: good luck have fun get some

you swiped out of your groupchat, seeing an unopened text in your thread with yunho. 

10:01 pm

yunho: worried about u yunho: hope this one’s treating you better

you smiled, fingers typing away– yunho was the only one who knew who mingyu was. 

10:23 pm

you: dont be worried im fine you: hes perfect he's the one you: thanksgiving secured

the bubble appeared in seconds, then it went away.

— yunho liked your messages. 

8fd masterlist | main masterlist

tags :p @chimivx @emmxxsworld @alisonyus @livixcore @skzswife @dawn-iscozy

[girlgenius1111]

learning curve part 2

alexia putellas x reader [& r's nephew] will tries to adjust, and so do r and alexia. a phone call and a nightmare dampen will's spirits, but alexia and r try prove that they are there for him. very soft fluff. angst. kidfic. shorter chapter but wanted to get this out before finals kill me hope you enjoy❤️‍🩹

There were so many good moments in being… well, not a parent. Being whatever you were to Will. Moments that you swore made your heart grow, like when Alexia would give him a piggyback ride around the house and he’d giggle until he was out of breath, or when he’d lift up his plate at dinner to very proudly show you he’d eaten all his vegetables. 

The reality was, however, that Will was a traumatized kid, living in a foreign country that spoke an entirely different language to him. Far away from his favorite person in the world, far away from everything he’d ever known. And while Will mostly trusted you, you were still practically a stranger to him, and Alexia was a stranger to him. 

Will was an anxious kid, with a lot to adjust to, and some days he didn’t want you. He didn’t want to be in Spain. He wanted to go back home and be with his Dad. That was just the one thing in the world you couldn’t give him. 

—

It was only the end of the first week of having Will living with you, and you hadn’t quite perfected your routine. It was Saturday, and he was due to start school on Monday, and though he hadn’t said anything, you could tell he was dreading it. Even with the new backpack and new light up shoes you’d gotten him, his little face grew so solemn whenever the topic of school was brought up. 

It had been an oddly calm week, which you were more than grateful for. Pere had taken you both out of the traveling squad for the weekend without either of you even asking. He insisted family was the most important thing, and you guys were facing a team at the bottom of the table anyway. So, with only a few training sessions and several days off, you and Alexia had been trying to get Will settled. 

One of the first things you’d done upon arriving back in Spain was finding Will a child psychologist. He hadn’t met with her yet, but she’d listened to the situation and given you a few tips on how to help Will adjust. And though there was a hoard of teammates and friends very eager to meet your nephew, one of the psychologist’s tips had been to take things slow, especially with introducing him to people. Too much, all at once, would just remind Will how much had changed. He didn’t need to be overwhelmed right now. 

Taking her advice, Will hadn’t met anyone before yesterday, when you and Alexia brought him over to Alexia’s mami’s house for dinner. He met Eli and Alba, instantly taking to Alexia’s sister. It wasn’t surprising; she was a teacher for young kids, and was already sitting on the floor at the coffee table coloring when the three of you had walked in. He’d spent most of the evening silently playing with her, his wide eyes flickering over to you every few minutes, as if to ensure that you were still there. 

It had been a late night, and even the limited conversation that Will had engaged in had seemed to drain him. He’d fallen asleep in the car on the way home, as you’d found he was very prone to doing. Alexia had carried him inside, his face smushed into her shoulder as her arms wrapped around him protectively. He woke, very grumpily, when you had him change into his pajamas and brush his teeth, passing right back out the minute his head hit his pillow. 

Will liked his sleep, you’d learned, and it wasn’t a surprise that after such a draining and long day, he’d slept in. It was nearing 10, though, and you didn’t think kids this little were supposed to sleep this late. Alexia and you had had a slow, quiet morning, enjoying the time alone together more than you would have just a week ago. Now, as you lay on the couch snuggled against your girlfriend’s side watching the team play on the TV, the now very familiar anxiety began to invade your every thought. 

“Should we wake him up?” You wondered, shifting to look at Alexia’s face. Her eyes remained locked on the TV, and it took a few seconds for the question to process. 

“I’m not sure, amor. If he’s tired, should we let him sleep? It’s been a long week.” 

“I know, but–”

“Tia?” Will’s voice called from the doorway, small and trembling. Your head whipped around to look at him, hesitating in the doorway as he rubbed at his eyes with his fists. He was crying, or trying not to cry, you couldn’t tell. 

“Hey, buddy. What’s wrong?” You asked gently, opening your arms and gesturing for him to come closer. The TV turned off as Alexia tore her attention away from the match and looked to Will with concern. 

“I-I want my Dad.” Will mumbled, taking a step further into the room but not taking you up on the unspoken offer for a hug. 

“Do you want to call him, sweetheart?” Your heart truly broke at the sad look on his face, and as much as you wished you could just fix it for him, you knew you couldn’t. 

Will considered for a moment, taking another half step forward before nodding. “Yes, please.” 

Luckily, the prison Leo was incarcerated in allowed inmates to receive phone calls, though it took a while for the call to get connected. You had to call the prison, request to talk to Leo, and if he was available, they’d bring him to the phone area. The process could take anywhere from 10-20 minutes, but Will wasn’t looking especially patient at the moment, his eyes wide and filled with tears as he watched you grab your phone off the table. 

“Will, cariño, why don’t we go get you some breakfast while we wait for your Papi to pick up?” Alexia asked, standing and holding her hand out towards the boy.

“‘M not hungry.” Will murmured, fidgeting nervously with the hem of his pajama shirt. 

Alexia hummed, moving cautiously towards Will and squatting down so she was eye level with him. “You might be hungry when you get off the phone, and if we start making pancakes now, they will be ready just in time.” 

The suggestion seemed to pique Will’s interest, even in his very solemn mood. “Okay. Pancakes.” 

He wrapped his hand around two of Alexia’s fingers and she smiled happily, leading him into the kitchen. 

They got to work making the pancake batter, Alexia allowing Will to help her measure out the ingredients as you waited to hear the sound of your brother’s voice come over the phone. 

Just as Leo came over the line, you heard a faint giggle come from the kitchen, and you smiled despite yourself. Alexia could always seem to get Will to laugh, no matter what mood he was in. You said hi to your brother, before calling for your nephew. His steps padded quickly from the kitchen into the living room, reaching for the phone with a somewhat desperate air to him. 

“Hi Dad.” Will greeted, sitting down on the edge of the couch. You couldn’t quite hear what your brother was saying, and you wanted to give Will some privacy, so you headed for the kitchen. Trying to tune out the conversation in the other room, you headed right for Alexia, who was stood at the stove, waiting for the perfect moment to flip the pancakes. You wrapped your arms around her, pressing your front to her back and sighing heavily. 

Alexia didn’t say anything in response at first, just placed her free hand over yours and squeezed. 

“Does this look like a heart, amor?” She inquired after a moment. You peeked over her shoulder, smiling despite yourself at the vaguely heart shaped pancake in the pan. 

“It does.” You lied, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Although I think Will would prefer a dinosaur.” 

Alexia chuckled. “I do not think I am that talented yet. Besides, he only cares about the syrup, not the shape of the pancake. The heart is for you.” 

Your cheeks flushed because no matter how much time passed, you were quite sure Alexia would always stun you a little with her sweet gestures. 

“I love you.” You murmured, a bit overwhelmed with softness for your girlfriend at that moment. Whether it was the barely heart shaped pancake or the gentleness and kindness she showed Will, you weren’t sure. 

“Te amo más.” Alexia replied, and you didn’t have to see her face to hear the small smile in her voice. 

As soon as you heard Will’s faint goodbye, you headed back into the living room. Your nephew didn’t look any happier, still perched on the edge of the couch, though now he was fully crying into his hands. 

“All done, buddy?” You called, feeling your chest tighten as Will jumped a bit and hastily began to wipe at his face with his hands. 

He nodded, handing your phone back to you without looking in your direction or saying a word. 

“Are you okay, Will?” You inquired, sitting next to him on the couch. 

He shrugged, lip quivering as he tried to hold in his cries. “Sorry.” 

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to be sorry about being sad.” You told him, reaching over and lifting him into your lap. He curled into you, his hand twisting into the fabric of your shirt. “You can be sad, and you can cry. This is really hard and you’re being so brave, but it’s okay to cry.” 

Will began to cry in earnest now, and you tried not to tear up yourself at the pain he was feeling, pain that was much too big for such a young kid. 

“I want my Dad.” Will whispered brokenly, clutching tighter to your shirt. 

“I know, I know you do. I’m sorry sweetheart.” 

There wasn’t much else you could do but whisper reassurances and try your best to comfort him. It wasn’t enough, you knew. Because you weren’t Leo. And Will just wanted his dad. 

—

It had been a long week for everyone. The emotional weight that you were carrying was taking its toll, and you’d never been more desperate for a good night's sleep before in your life. Alexia could see it on your face, the physical and mental exhaustion, and she insisted you get in bed when just after Will had gone to sleep.

Much too exhausted to really put up much of an argument, you showered quickly and threw on some pajamas. Alexia brushed your hair for you, something she knew always made you sleepy, before tucking you into bed and flicking the light off. You frowned at that, grabbing her hand when she tried to rise from the bed. 

“Where are you going?” 

“The living room is a mess and I was going to finish the laundry–”

“Alexia, you’re tired too. Please just come to bed. I won’t be able to fall asleep without you.” 

A small smile flickered across her face, and she realized how utterly powerless she was to say no to you when you asked something of her, especially something this needy. Alexia knew better than anyone how hard it was for you to be vulnerable. She’d promised herself long ago that she’d be here if you needed her, especially when you asked for her. 

So, she nodded, kissing you softly on the lips. “Okay, mi amor. If that is what you need.”

Alexia made quick work of locking the front door, running through her nighttime routine and checking to make sure Will was soundly asleep before crawling into bed next to you. Her body molded into the back of yours, arms holding you tight against her. 

“You stole my favorite pajama shirt.” She whispered into your ear, hand sliding up the front of the stolen shirt to rest across your abdomen. 

You turned in her hold, pressing your face into her neck and adjusting until you were comfortable. “It smells like you.” 

Alexia grinned into the top of your head at your sleepy voice, settling back into the pillows. “You can keep it, then.”

She was sure she looked like a lovesick fool, holding you tightly against your chest, smiling hugely in the darkness, but she didn’t care. She really loved that she got to love you. 

—

Alexia wasn’t a very heavy sleeper, which normally was a point of annoyance for her. However, when she woke up just a few hours after falling asleep, she wasn’t upset. 

It was a quiet whimper coming from down the hall that pulled her awake, and it only took her a minute of confusion before she realized the source. 

Will. 

You’d been leaving both his bedroom door and your bedroom door open in an attempt to convince him to come wake you if he needed you. Will was independent, insisting on doing everything himself because he was a ‘big boy,’ but you never wanted him to feel deterred from seeking you out if he needed comfort. 

Alexia sat up, rubbing at her eyes and listening just to make sure she’d heard correctly. When a small sob reached her ears, she slipped out of bed, making sure not to disturb you.

If Will needed you, she wouldn’t hesitate to get you. But if this was something she could help with without waking you, she’d prefer that. You were so tired. More than that, she didn’t want you to feel like Will was just your responsibility. She’d made it clear she was staying, that she was here for both of you, and she intended to prove that to you through her actions. 

So, she padded down the hall towards Will’s room, her heart dropping when she found him sitting up, the covers scrunched up at the bottom of his bed, his face wet with tears. He was hugging one of his dinosaurs close to his chest, and Alexia could tell even from the doorway that he was trembling. 

“Hey cariño.” She whispered, stepping into the room. “Are you okay?” 

It was a stupid question because it was very clear that Will was not okay, but Alexia asked anyway, frowning sympathetically when the small boy shook his head back and forth rapidly in response. 

“Did you have a bad dream?” Alexia wondered, walking over to Will’s bed and sitting on the edge of it. He didn’t reach for her, so she didn’t reach for him, though she left her hand on the bed right in front of him, palm up in case he wanted to grab it. 

This time, Will nodded, using the soft fur of his dinosaur to wipe the tears off his cheek. 

“A really bad one,” Will mumbled, his voice shaky and thick with tears. 

Alexia was quiet for a moment, not quite sure what she should do. Should she get you? Should she try to talk it through with him? She hadn’t realized until this moment how much taking care of a kid came down to the smallest decisions. 

“Would you like a hug?” She offered finally, opening her arms. To her surprise, Will quickly slid out from under his covers and scrambled into her lap, wrapping his arms tightly around her neck. She held him carefully, rubbing her hand up and down his back as he sniffled. “Okay. Okay, we’re okay. You are safe, cariño.” 

Miraculously, Will seemed to be calming down, and it wasn’t much longer before he loosened his grip on her and rested his head against her chest. 

“Do you want to tell me about it?” 

“You… you and my Tia went away. Like my Dad. I couldn’t find you guys and I was all alone again.” Will whispered, his voice quiet as if speaking any louder would make the nightmare come true. 

“That sounds really scary, Will.” Alexia said carefully, feeling Will nod into her. “You aren’t alone. Me and your Tia are not going anywhere. We’re here to take care of you, and we aren’t going to leave you alone, ever.” 

It was the best she could come up with. She marvelled at how you always seemed to know what to say to Will, not having realized how hard that seemingly simple task could be. The midfielder was unsure if her words had helped at all especially when Will was quiet for a few long moments. 

“Promise?” He whispered finally, his hand twisting into the fabric of her shirt. 

Alexia bit her lip, fighting a wave of tears that threatened to fall. A 5 year old should never have to feel this way, should never have to be this scared that he was going to be left behind. 

“I promise.” Alexia replied, leaving a kiss on the top of Will’s brown waves. 

“Alexia?” Will asked. 

Alexia fought back a smile, this time, because it was the first time Will had addressed her by her name. She hummed in response, nodding for him to ask his question. 

“Can I sleep in your bed? With you and my Tia?” His voice was quiet, tentative, and he seemed almost resigned, as if he was sure the answer would be no. 

But Alexia couldn’t say no, not when Will was sitting in front of her with tears still wet on his face. So much was changing for him, and he was doing a remarkable job adjusting to it all. Still, if he needed some extra comfort… who was Alexia to deny that? Especially when she knew you’d say yes without a second thought. 

“Of course you can. Your Tia is still sleeping and she’s very tired so we have to be quiet.” 

Will nodded fervently, tucking his dinosaur under one arm and reaching up for Alexia’s hand with his other. Together, they walked back down the hall, feet padding softly on wood. 

Alexia lifted Will into her arms as they walked through the door, in the darkness misjudging the distance she had between her and the foot of the bed. Her toe collided with it painfully, and she yelped quietly, freezing to make sure you didn’t stir.

“Shh.” Will said, brows furrowed as his small hand moved to cover Alexia’s mouth. She fought back a smile, nodding and placing Will onto the bed. He moved slowly over into the middle of the bed, letting Alexia tuck the covers up around him before climbing in herself. 

She’d expected Will to snuggle up against you, but her heart melted when she felt him scooch closer to her, resting his head on her arm. 

“Goodnight Alexia.” He whispered, so quiet Alexia had to strain to hear him. 

“Goodnight cariño.” Alexia whispered back, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. 

She was wide awake even as Will’s breaths began to even out, and the boy fell asleep, but she didn’t mind. 

She’d stay up for a while. Just in case he needed anything. 

—

not the biggest fan of this but the next chapter is already planned and i'm very excited about it

thanks for reading ❤️

[sturnioz]

shy!reader is left alone for the weekend while fratboy!chris is at the fraternity formal — but when the weekend is over... ⌞ part one ⌝

when you found out that this weekend would be spent without chris—a weekend without raging frat parties—you initially thought it might be a refreshing break, envisioning peaceful days for you to relax.

instead, you were extremely unprepared for the loneliness that quickly settled in.

with most of your friends away at the fraternity formal, the apartment felt stark and empty. nick generously spends friday and saturday with you, easily distracting you from the hollow ache in your chest and the gnawing sense of isolation, and you're grateful for his company.

but sunday arrived, suffocating you with eerily silence.

you sit on the couch, the stillness of your apartment pressing in around you, unsettlingly quiet, and you fidget restlessly, trying to push away the spiralling thoughts in your mind as you stare at the flickering tv screen. one of your favourite series is playing, yet it fails to bring the comfort and joy you so desperately crave.

eventually, your hand gravitates towards your phone resting on the arm of the couch, and despite the nagging voice in your head urging you to leave it untouched, curiosity pulls you in. you open the instagram app, and you're instantly bombarded by a flood of posts.

you smile softly, liking the ones posted by kitty and matt, as well as your friend and nate. you even double-tap a few pictures from the other frat boys too. but when chris' post appears, you smile falters.

your thumb hovers over the heart button, and a heavy weight settles in your throat, making it difficult for you to swallow. why didn't he tell you about the formal? why didn't he invite you? did he go with someone else? the answer to that last question becomes painfully clear as you begin to swipe through his posts, and you freeze upon seeing a photo of him standing in front of a mirror, and cherry by his side.

he went with cherry? the last girl he was sleeping with? the realisation hits you like a brutal punch to the gut, and suddenly, you're gasping for breath, the air feeling thick and constricted in your lungs as your heart races with a mix of hurt and confusion.

you know you have no right to feel this way. you are chris are not even dating; you're just sleeping together. it's casual. yet, the pang of betray still cuts deep and you shut your phone off and place it down, your hands trembling slightly as you rub your chest uncomfortably, trying to soothe the ache that has settled there.

you sink deeper into the couch, wishing you could escape the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you — the loneliness, the shock, and the sharp sting of feeling left behind. you wish you could silence the nagging thoughts that tell you you should be okay with this, that you should just let it go.

but the truth is, it hurts more than you want to admit, and you can't shake the feeling of being pushed to the side in a situation that was never supposed to matter this much to you.

when monday rolls in, you find yourself slipping back into your familiar routine — consciously pushing aside the worries and pain from the weekend as you greet your hungover friend as she stumbles into the apartment, giggling softly as she dramatically slumps on top of you, declaring how much she missed you.

fortunately, your professor called in sick, granting you a day off, so you settle in, spending your morning in your room as your friend fills you in on what happened on the weekend. you nod and hum along, smiling at her explaining to you how drunk she had gotten, but your amusement falters when she suddenly brings up chris.

"everyone thought you were going with chris, you know," her says, her voice still croaky as she rubs her tired eyes with a yawn. "so when you didn't show up, everyone just assumed that he'd be going alone, just to get fucked up or whatever."

"but..?" you press quietly, already bracing yourself for the answer you dread but need to hear.

"he went with some sorority girl — cherry, i think her nickname is? 'cos of her red hair and fucking insane double d's. i'm jealous," she huffs beside you, craning her head on her pillow to look at you. "are you okay?"

her words hit you, dragging you back into the painful reality you've tried to forget about and you swallow hard, attempting to compose yourself.

"yeah, m'fine," you reply, but the tremor in your voice gives you away. you force a fragile smile. "promise, i'm good."

even if she doesn't believe a word that came out of your mouth, she doesn't press the issue, which you're grateful for. instead, she shifts the conversation to something completely different.

throughout the day, you remain in your apartment, working on assignments, baking treats with your friend, and crocheting. you even eat popcorn and watch your favourite shared movies.

yet, every so often, your phone buzzes beside you, lighting up with notifications. you take small glances at the screen to read, but each time you see the name, you choose to push the device to the side, ignoring the person on the other end.

© STURNIOZ

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 12: NTR (Netorase)

Alrighty everybody, today we get some NTR, not the usual kind though, this one is different; here's the definition of this one: A genre of sharing or cuckoldry pornography where a protagonist's love interest has sex with others, which the protagonist enjoys, actively encourages or even causes. I'm just following the request.

Length 1.9K

Mina

“It’s something I’ve always wanted to try out, just once,” Mina explains, tapping her fingertips together. She keeps her head down, feeling embarrassed to admit it to you. You consider Mina’s request, but you don’t want to go along with it. Something about it bothers you; it didn’t matter that you were one of the participants; seeing Mina with another man would be too much for you.

You agree, though, for her sake. “All right, Mina. I’ll set things up. You just relax,” you tell her with a halfhearted smile. Mina smiles at you and wraps her arms around you, bouncing from foot to foot. A small giggle escapes her lips, “thank you!” She holds your hands, swinging them from side to side. “Tell me when it’s all set up.”

You spend time thinking about how you’re going to get Mina her threesome. You didn’t want to watch her be fucked by another man, but in your mind, if you didn’t see it, it wouldn’t bother you. You wanted to please Mina and knew how this would make her happy. As stupid as it sounded, this was your solution.

The next day, you put your plan into action. The first step was to find some people for it. You hung out around cafes, people-watching. You listened in on conversations, and eventually, you found the right people. Sitting behind you were two guys who seemed to be like good people, good enough that you could trust them with Mina. You stood up and walked over to them, pulling up a picture of Mina on your phone. The conversation didn’t take long; Mina’s beauty was enough to get them interested, and after hearing you out, they agreed.

You make plans with both parties, deciding you would do it that Saturday. The day came quickly, too. You knew Mina wouldn’t want to do it if you were involved, but you planned for that too, the entire day you were getting Mina ready. You gave her a couple of things to get her in the mood beforehand. From early morning to just before getting to the hotel, Mina was taking aphrodisiacs, and they were getting to her. If that wasn’t enough to make Mina horny, she had a vibrator stirring her guts while the aphrodisiacs made her body sensitive. You had put it on an hour before you were set to leave for the hotel. The vibrator was being held in place by her panties; any movement she made changed the way it moved inside her. She was struggling and wanted to have sex when you left home; her legs were already weak as the outside prong rubbed against her clit.

The drive to the hotel was hard; Mina was clinging to your arm, mewing as she felt the vibrator go deeper into her cunt with every small bump in the road. Getting inside wasn’t easier; walking through the lobby caused the vibrator to move around inside Mina, making it hit new spots. You got your key and moved to your room.

Inside waiting was one of the men, Leo. He, along with the other, Eli, had gotten a key for the room earlier and were waiting inside. You had told them to have one hide out sight before coming out when you left. You introduce Leo to Mina before telling them you forgot something in the car. “I’ll be right back; you guys get started without me.” You tell them, leaving the room before they begin. You leave the hotel entirely, stepping out into a restaurant while they begin their fun. To many, simply the knowledge of what was going on would bother them, but it didn’t bother you for some odd reason.

As soon as you left, Leo turned Mina’s head and kissed her. The young woman moaned into it, the vibrator still messing with her, even more when Leo tugged at them, pulling them higher. Mina’s muffled moans grew higher because of it. Her mind, already foggy from the aphrodisiacs and pleasure, grew foggier as Eli came into the room and moved his hands to her chest. Mina looked over your shoulder and saw it was someone else, but as much as she wanted to resist, she couldn’t. She could feel his hands move over her covered breasts, squeezing them. Leo reached under Mina’s dress, pulling her panties off of her. The vibrator fell to the floor; it was covered in her juices and continued to turn.

The men brought Mina onto the bed and raised her dress, spreading her legs open. Leo moved his hand over Mina’s slit, making her whine as his fingers brushed against her clit. She was already so sensitive that it sent a shock through her system. Eli, meanwhile, continued to focus on her modest breasts, pulling the straps of her dress and pulling it down to reveal them. Her nipples were already hard; Eli took to attaching himself to them, running her tongue over the hard nub. Mina placed her hand on the back of his head, holding it in place as she pushed out her chest. Mina’s whines grew louder. Leo pushed two fingers into her cunt.

Leo grabbed Mina’s hand, putting it on his cock. She immediately gripped it, moving her hand along the shaft as they continued to pleasure her. Her body was taking precedence over her mind, and the last of her resistance faded soon after.

The men lifted Mina’s dress off her body, tossing it to the side. Leo took position between Mina’s legs, rubbing his cock against her wet and needy cunt. Mina could feel it poke her entrance before slipping away and moving between her folds. She bit her lip, struggling as he teased her cunt. At the same time, Eli moved up and slapped Mina’s lips with his cock. In the back of her mind, she thought about how she shouldn’t do it, but her body was in control. Mina opened her mouth for him, allowing Eli to slide in and stretch her lips. Her tongue began to work without question, swirling around the tip as Leo finally made his move. He pushed his cock against Mina’s cunt, moving inside her.

Mina glanced down, watching as he pushed further inside her. Mina’s toes curled, and her eyes went into the back of her head. She had two cocks all to herself; she squeezed her walls around Leo’s cock, reveling in the feeling of him reaching deep inside. Mina began bobbing her, too. She loved the way that his cock stretched her mouth. The young woman reached out, cupping his balls and giving them a loving squeeze as she bobbed her head. Mina’s muffled moans came with every thrust as Leo’s cock filled her up.  For a second, she stopped bobbing her head, muttering, “Harder.” There were no complaints made as they both began to thrust Leo into her pussy and Eli into her mouth. Mina moved a hand to her clit, rubbing it as they pounded away at her body. She was in heaven and pushing herself to an early climax.

Mina's muffled moans become louder and feed into Eli’s pleasure as her tight throat vibrates around his cock. Eli groans and buries himself inside her throat, the pleasure becoming too much for him. His cum fills Mina’s throat, giving her a hefty drink. The warm cum flows straight to Mina’s stomach as she drinks every drop. On the other side of things Leo wasn’t faring better. Mina’s cunt tightened around his cock as she came; his thrusts came all at once before coming to a sudden stop as he came inside Mina. The hot cum moved deep into Mina, warming her body.

They pulled out of Mina slowly, staring at her body. Cum oozed from her cunt, and as she turned her head, they watched a few drop run down from the corners of her mouth. They couldn’t just end things there. They changed positions, rolling Mina onto Eli’s lap while Leo got behind the young woman. Mina could barely support herself, becoming a moaning mess as she felt them rub their cock against her body. Leo reached over, took a bottle of lube, and coated the young woman with it. The two men massaged it into her body. Leo moved his hands down, squeezing her ass. He moved closer to her center and pressed his finger against her asshole.

Mina groaned at the intrusion. She was about to say something when Eli began thrusting into her pussy. A moan was all that came out of her as he thrust deep into her cum. Leo kept playing with her ass, pushing his fingers inside and lubing Mina’s walls until he felt like she was ready. Then he pressed himself against her asshole and began pushing in, stretching Mina’s ass. She cried out, and her breathing became ragged as she felt his searing cock push deeper into her. Leo held onto Mina’s shoulder, holding her as he pushed the remaining few inches inside the young woman. He loved being inside her; her walls were crushing his cock, providing Leo with the best feeling. Mina placed a hand on her stomach; with both cocks inside her, she felt so full.

Mina’s mind began to melt as they thrust into her. Leo held her arms back while Eli suckled on her tits. The pleasure that coursed through Mina was unlike anything else. Her walls clamped down on their cocks, as she came again. The men continued to thrust into her as Mina went through her climax; the pleasure became even greater; her body was being overstimulated. She tingled all over as Leo and Eli sped up. “I’m cumming!” Mina yelled as she felt another orgasm immediately following the last one. The men continued thrusting; they were reaching their peak. They buried themselves inside Mina, filling her body with their cum. Mina’s body shook as she felt their warm cum pour into her. Her walls milked them, draining both of their cum. Mina collapsed after, her body completely giving out.

In the morning, Mina woke up alone to see a note on her nightstand. “I hope you enjoyed your time last night. I couldn’t bear to watch you with someone else even if I was there with you, so I got the two guys from last night to do the job for you. I’m sorry for lying to you, but I wanted you to get the experience you always wanted.” Mina smiles softly.

“You idiot,” She says softly be, trying to stand. Her legs were wobbly, but she managed to make it to the bathroom, where she set herself down. When she came out of the shower, she saw you enter the room. Mina threw herself at you, wrapping her hands around you. “You idiot! You didn’t have to do that!” She shouts, slapping your back. “If you didn’t want to do it, why didn’t you tell me.”

“Because I wanted you to have the experience you always wanted.”

Mina puffs her cheeks, an annoyed look on her face. “I would’ve been fine if you didn’t want to do it.” Mina stares at you for a second before her expression softens. “Still, I’m happy you care enough to set it up for me. C-can I make up for you having to do that?” Her hand gingerly moves down to your crotch. “I really want to make it up to you.”

You smirk, “Okay,”

[gyutopia]

temptation | lee heeseung pt 2

⟶ summary: having just completed your graduate work in psychotherapy, you’re eager to begin a career as a marriage counselor. you land a job as a counselor at a matchmaking firm for millionaires and meet heeseung, a charismatic client who makes no effort to hide his attraction to you. the only catch is...he’s engaged.

˗ˏˋpairing: billionaire!heeseung x f!reader ❀ genre: marriage counselor au ❀ word count: 19.0k ❀ staring: chisa (22)- xg, yunho(23)- ateez, jaehyun(22)- bnd, heeseung (23) + jake (22) + jay (22) + sunghoon (22)- enhypen, sakura (24)- le sserafim, karina (24)- aespa, danielle (20)- new jeans. ⟶ warnings:mentions of anxiety and depression, therapy speak, lots of swearing, cheating, soft dom!hee, sub!reader, oral (f + m receiving), p in v intercourse, protected sex, dirty talk, praise, brief breast play, fingering, vanillaish sex, slight body worship, talk about childhood trauma, consumption of alcohol, mentions of abortion (not reader), invasion of privacy, inappropriate relationship dynamics, talk of assisted living, mention of a suicide attempt, allusions of starving yourself, mentions of anti- depressants, vague talk of ptsd, mentions of verbal abuse, heeseung doesn’t have good parents, physical altercation, online bullying (knets have a field day with u), heeseung is v insecure and has some emotional trauma. please let me know if i’ve missed anything!

✎୭: the full version, uninterrupted can be found on my ao3 here. thank you so much for reading this monster of a fic! i love and appreciate every single one of you!

SATURDAY FEBRUARY 22ND, 2025

It’s been a week since the kiss. A week since everything spiraled out of control.

You’ve been rotting away in your bed, hidden beneath blankets like a child hiding from monsters only this time, the monster isn’t under your bed—it’s in your chest, clawing at your heart every time you think about him.

The first thing you did the morning after was log into your work account and cash in some of your sick days. You needed a way to avoid the office, a way to avoid him. Dani emailed you a few small assignments, things you could complete from home so it was easy to play the role of someone mildly under the weather. A few sniffles over the phone and vague mentions of a stomach bug and Miss Min didn’t even question it.

Sakura still being in Japan has worked to your advantage. With her busy filming schedule, the usual meetings and updates have been sparse. Miss Min has been surprisingly lenient, perhaps assuming that you’re taking this time to recover before things pick up again.

But you’re not recovering. If anything, you’re unraveling.

You haven’t stepped out of your apartment in days, let alone made an attempt to eat properly or take care of yourself. The bare minimum—replying to work emails and completing small tasks—is the only thing tethering you to reality.

You know you’re running out of time. Eventually, Miss Min will expect you back in the office and when that day comes, you’ll have no choice but to face the truth. You’ll have to tell her to reassign Heeseung and Sakura’s case to someone else.

The thought of it paralyzes you. Once you remove yourself, that’s it. You’ll have no reason to see him anymore. No excuse to hear his voice or watch the way he absentmindedly taps his pen against the desk during meetings. No more pretending that you’re just doing your job when deep down, you know you’ve already failed at keeping your feelings in check.

Heeseung hasn’t reached out. Not once. No calls, no texts, no emails. Nothing.

It shouldn’t hurt this much. You’re the one who left his home without a word, too embarrassed to face what you’d done. You’re the one who’s been avoiding him like the plague hoping that the distance will make it easier to let go. But his silence feels like a confirmation of your worst fear—that he regrets everything.

The memory of that night replays in your mind on a loop. The way his lips felt against yours, the way he held you, the way he took care of you.

It’s torture, and you’ve trapped yourself in it.

Your friends have noticed, of course. How could they not?

It started with Yunho.

He texted a few days ago, saying he’d made a big batch of jjajangmyeon and that you should come over for dinner. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to eat anything Yunho cooked—he has a talent for cooking. But you declined claiming you weren’t feeling well.

His reply was immediate. 

5:25pm | yuyu💫: u never turn down food…are you sure ur okay?

You typed out a response. Deleted it. Typed out another. Deleted that one too. Finally, you settled on:

5:36 pm | you: i’m fine. just tired. thanks for the offer.

Then there was Jaehyun.

He called the following evening, his tone light and casual. “Hey, want to grab drinks after my shift? It’s been a while since we caught up.”

Normally, you’d agree in a heartbeat. Jaehyun’s presence was easy and comforting, and nights out with him always left you feeling lighter but the thought of facing anyone, even someone as laid-back as Jaehyun, felt impossible.

“I’m not in the mood,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.

“Not in the mood for drinks?” he repeated, his tone disbelieving. “Since when?”

You forced a weak laugh. “Rain check?”

He didn’t press, but the concern in his voice lingered long after the call ended.

Finally, there was Chisa.

She didn’t bother with subtlety. One afternoon, she stormed into your room, keys in hand. “Get dressed,” she said firmly. “We’re going to the mall.”

You blinked at her from your cocoon of blankets, confused and slightly annoyed. “I’m good,” you muttered, burrowing deeper into your bed.

“I’ll buy you makeup,” she added, a note of bribery in her voice. “Whatever you want.”

Normally, you’d jump at the offer. You loved makeup, and free makeup was even better. But the idea of standing under bright store lights, pretending to be okay, was unbearable.

“I already have more than enough makeup,” you said, turning away.

Chisa didn’t argue. She just stood there for a moment, watching you with an expression that made your chest ache, before leaving the room without another word.

That was two days ago. It’s now past midday and you’re still in bed. The room is dark, save for the faint light filtering through the curtains. Your stomach growls but you don’t have the energy to cook let alone eat.

You’re about to close your eyes again when the door to your room bursts open.

“What the—?” You sit up abruptly, squinting against the sudden intrusion.

Your friends stand in the doorway, each of them wearing expressions ranging from concern to frustration.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice hoarse from disuse.

Jaehyun strides forward without answering, grabbing the edge of your blanket.

“Jaehyun!” you protest, clutching the fabric tightly. “What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you since you clearly can’t do it yourself,” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’re used to.

“Stop it!” You tug back on the blanket, growing annoyed but Jaehyun doesn’t let go.

“Hey, hey,” Yunho interjects, stepping between the two of you. “Let’s all calm down.” He turns to you, his voice softer. “We’re just worried about you. You haven’t seemed like yourself lately.”

You sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I’m fine, just—”

“Sick,” Chisa interrupts, crossing her arms. “Yeah, we know. That’s what you want us to believe.”

Jaehyun scoffs. “You rarely missed a day of class in college, even if you were sick so excuse me if we’re not buying that excuse this time.”

You stare at them blankly unsure of how to respond.

Chisa steps closer, kneeling in front of you. Her voice is gentle as she says, “We’re just worried about you, ____. This isn’t… normal. Please, just tell us what’s going on so we can help.”

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. “I just needed a week off. I’ll be okay.”

Yunho sits beside you on the bed, his presence warm. “We can’t force you to talk about something you’re clearly not ready to share,” he says. “But at least let us help you.”

Jaehyun sighs, his frustration melting as he sees the tears threatening to fall. “We don’t have to talk about it. We can just order takeout and binge-watch early 2000s shows… just stop icing us out. Please. We love you and want to help you.”

The dam breaks.

You start crying, the sound raw and unrestrained. Your friends don’t say anything—they just surround you, pulling you into a group hug.

Yunho is the first to pull away, sniffling quietly as he stands. “I’ll order the food,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

Jaehyun follows, mumbling something about not wanting to cry in front of you.

Chisa stays, holding you until your sobs subside. She rubs your back soothingly and says, “Whatever it is, know that you’ll overcome it.”

You nod weakly, more out of instinct than belief. Deep down, you don’t think you’ll overcome this—not when “this” is Lee Heeseung. How could you possibly move on from him?

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this way about anyone before. It’s not just the heartbreak—it’s the way he made you feel so seen. You’ve spent so much of your life hiding parts of yourself, keeping your scars neatly tucked away but Heeseung made it feel safe to let them show.

Most people don’t know why you became a marriage counselor. You’ve always lied whenever the question came up, saying you “just love love,” but the truth is messier and darker. Your father’s infidelity, your mother’s quiet suffering and your own helplessness in the face of it all shaped you. You wanted to help people in ways you couldn’t help her. But it’s not something you ever talk about—not until Heeseung.

He was the first person outside of your friends whom you willingly opened up to. The first person you wanted to open up to. And when you did, his response wasn’t pity or judgment. It was understanding. He didn’t tell you to move on or let it go. He simply listened, offering quiet reassurances. His words didn’t just soothe your present self…they reached that fractured little girl you used to be, the one who just wanted someone to tell her it wasn’t her fault.

And Heeseung… he understood because he’d been there too. Despite living in the aftermath of his brother’s attempted suicide, enduring his father’s suffocating demands and his mother’s overbearing love, he hadn’t become some cold-hearted monster. He had every reason to, but he didn’t.

Sure, he has his flaws. He’s scared of vulnerability, keeps people at arm’s length and hides behind a playboy persona. But you see through it—it’s all armor. He doesn’t want people to see the cracks, to know he has weaknesses they could exploit. And yet with you, he tore all those walls down. He let you see the version of himself that never got to exist when he was younger.

The version he even hides now.

You’d give anything to make sure he’s never hurt again. To ensure he never has to hide or water himself down. To guarantee he can just be himself—happy, unburdened and free. But you can’t.

Because you’re not from his world. You’re not the person he’s supposed to choose. And even if you were, some part of you thinks this love—this all-consuming love—might be too much. Too much for Heeseung.

But not because he doesn’t deserve it. No, Heeseung deserves the kind of love that heals, that lets him breathe, that doesn’t ask for anything he can’t give. But it’s the weight of it, the enormity of what it would mean to truly care for someone like him that gives you pause.

You haven’t forgotten about him forcing his ex-girlfriend to get an abortion, it’s stuck with you since you overheard it. You never brought it up, never asked Heeseung to clarify but it lingers. It colors how you see him, even if you don’t want it to. You don’t believe Heeseung is the kind of man who would demand something so cruel, so selfish but the seed of doubt is there. And it terrifies you.

Because if you’re wrong, if he really did that, what does that say about him? About you for wanting to believe in him so badly?

But even without knowing the truth, you can feel how carefully Heeseung treads around the idea of vulnerability. It’s in the way he deflects, the way he keeps people at a distance, the way his sharp words mask the pain he doesn’t think anyone notices. Loving someone like that would require patience…endless patience and you’re not sure if even that would be enough.

Heeseung doesn’t halfass anything, he said so himself. He doesn’t know how to. If he let himself fall for you, it would be all-encompassing. Consuming. He would give you everything he has, every vulnerable piece of himself he’s spent years hiding away. And that’s what scares you. Not that he wouldn’t love you enough, but that he’d love you too much.

That kind of love comes with expectations, with vulnerabilities Heeseung might not be ready to face. It’s one thing for him to care for someone in theory, to keep his emotions safely compartmentalized, but to truly open himself up? To risk that kind of pain again? You’re not sure he can.

And then there’s the other part, the part you don’t want to admit even to yourself: what if it’s not enough? What if you’re not enough? What if he gives you everything and you still can’t reach him? What if the walls he’s built are so strong that even love can’t break them down?

So you hesitate. Not because you don’t want him, but because you do. Because the thought of not being enough for him is unbearable.

You lean into Chisa’s embrace, letting the tears spill over again silent now but no less heavy. The weight of it all, the longing, the guilt, the hopelessness—feels unbearable.

You don’t think you’ll ever overcome Lee Heeseung.

Chisa helps you out of bed and into the living room, where Yunho pats the spot next to him on the couch. You sit between him and Chisa, feeling their warmth on either side.

Chisa boots up the TV, scrolling through the options. “How far away is the food?” she asks.

“Another twenty minutes,” Yunho replies, checking his phone.

Jaehyun comes into the living room, handing you a bottle of water. You smile softly and thank him. He nods, taking a seat beside Yunho.

Chisa selects That’s So Raven and hits play. As the theme song fills the room, you glance around at your friends, your heart swelling with gratitude.

You don’t deserve them.

But as you sit there, surrounded by their love and support, you realize you can’t keep this from them forever. You’ll tell them about Heeseung—once you’ve removed yourself from the case.

For now, you let yourself enjoy the moment knowing it might be the last bit of peace you have before everything falls apart again.

THAT SAME DAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF TOWN

The ball bounces high off the court, cutting cleanly through the crisp afternoon air. Jay slams it back toward Jake and Heeseung’s side with enough force to make Jake grunt, barely managing to return it. It ricochets toward Heeseung—his racket is raised and ready, but his reaction time is too slow. The ball whizzes past him, landing well within the lines.

Jay pumps his fist triumphantly. “Another point for us!”

Jake groans, marching toward Heeseung with his racket pointed accusingly. “Yah! What’s wrong with you? We’re losing!” His aussie accent is stronger than ever, laced with the kind of playful exasperation only a best friend can get away with.

Jay and Sunghoon dissolve into laughter at Jake’s fiery outburst. It’s Sunghoon’s first time joining their tennis matches—Jake had invited him earlier that week, saying, “He fits the vibe, trust me.” And so far, Sunghoon had been keeping up, much to Jay’s delight and Jake’s annoyance.

“Sorry,” Heeseung mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “My head’s… everywhere today.”

“Yeah well get it together!” Jake huffs, gesturing dramatically with his racket. “We’re not losing to these two.”

“Hey!” Jay protests, offended. “These two are crushing you.”

Sunghoon smirks as he twirls his racket. “Not my fault Heeseung’s got his head in the clouds.”

Jake groans, pushing Heeseung toward his side of the court. “Come on man! Get out of your head and play!”

Heeseung exhales heavily, adjusting his stance to serve. He tosses the ball into the air, his focus sharpening as he swings his racket. The ball zips across the net, hitting the opposite side perfectly.

As the game resumes, Heeseung speaks, his voice low but clear: “I made out with my therapist.”

Jay misses his swing completely, the ball bouncing away. Sunghoon whistles in surprise. Jake freezes, staring at Heeseung like he’s grown a second head.

“You what?” Jake finally blurts out.

Heeseung shrugs, keeping his expression neutral even as a knot tightens in his chest. “You heard me.”

Sunghoon fiddles with his racket, clearly intrigued. “Well, this just got interesting.”

Jake recovers first, shaking his head. “Wait, wait. Back up. How did that happen?”

Heeseung exhales, running a hand through his hair. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time,” Jay says, walking over to grab the ball.

Heeseung hesitates, but when he sees the curiosity—and concern—in their faces, he decides to tell them everything. “Okay, so you know how my parents forced me to go to that matchmaking firm?”

Jay snorts. “Forced is putting it lightly.”

“Exactly,” Heeseung mutters. “They were tired of the tabloids making me look like a… well, you know.”

“A whore,” Jake supplies helpfully.

“Thank you, Jake,” Heeseung says dryly before continuing. “Anyway, I wasn’t taking it seriously at first. But then I met her—____. She’s one of their counselors. The minute I walked into that consultation room and saw her…” He pauses, the memory of that moment flickering in his mind. “She wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met. She was professional but kind. She didn’t look at me like I was some project to fix. Didn’t associate me with what the news was saying….she just… listened.”

Jay raises an eyebrow. “Listened?”

“Yeah.” Heeseung nods. “Like, really listened. I don’t think anyone’s ever done that before. Not the way she did.”

The game pauses as the four of them linger on Heeseung’s words. Jake twists his racket, visibly intrigued. “So, what happened?”

Heeseung shifts uncomfortably. “We had dinner last week…don’t ask…She didn’t judge me. Didn’t push. We talked about everything—work, family, life… even stuff I don’t usually talk about…like Heejoon.”

Sunghoon frowns. “Who’s Heejoon?”

Heeseung hesitates before explaining, “My brother. He lives in an assisted living facility.” His voice is quieter now, tinged with a sadness he doesn’t often show.

Jake and Jay exchange a look. They’ve known about Heejoon for years but they also know how rarely Heeseung brings him up.

“She didn’t pry,” Heeseung continues. “She just… let me talk. And when I didn’t want to talk, she let me sit in silence. Do you know how rare that is?”

Jake whistles softly. “Sounds like she really gets you.”

“Yeah,” Heeseung says, almost to himself. “She does.”

Jay watches him closely, his expression thoughtful. “It sounds like you like her.”

Heeseung’s grip tightens on the racket, his jaw clenching. The idea strikes a nerve, one he’s not ready to confront. He tried to ignore his feelings when they first started surfacing—during that one-on-one meeting at the hotel bar.

He brushed it off as professional interest, convinced himself it was just admiration for your work. But then you started slipping into his thoughts more often than he liked to admit.

And now, standing with his friends on this tennis court, the reality of it feels inescapable.

He doesn’t want to like you. The idea terrifies him. Liking you would mean opening himself up and he’s learned the hard way what happens when he lets someone in. Vulnerability is a risk he’s not sure he’s willing to take again. It’s safer to keep things on the surface, where emotions can’t dig too deep, where people can’t get close enough to hurt him.

But this… this feels different.

The way you listen to him without judgment, the way you genuinely seem to care—it’s unlike anything he’s experienced in years. You don’t expect him to be the perfect son, the unshakable CEO, or the carefree charmer everyone else sees. You let him be Heeseung—messy, flawed, and real. And somehow, that’s scarier than anything else.

"I don’t like her," Heeseung replies, his tone sharper than he intended. "It’s not like that."

Jay shrugs, setting up another serve. "Hate the message, not the messenger."

The ball flies across the net, but the tension remains. Jake eventually breaks the silence. "Okay, but Jay’s right. This is the most attention we’ve seen you willingly give someone since... well, you know." He stops abruptly, glancing at Jay as the ball falls flat in front of Sunghoon.

Jay glares. “Don’t.”

“What?” Jake says innocently. “I didn’t say her name.”

Sunghoon frowns, looking between them. “Who are we talking about?”

Heeseung exhales heavily, his shoulders sagging. "You can say her name. It’s not the end of the world."

Jake takes it upon himself to explain, filling Sunghoon in as they continue their game. "Heeseung dated this girl, Karina, back in college. She was the first person who got through to him during his...experimental phase." He dodges a stray ball from Heeseung before continuing. "He actually wanted to be monogamous with her."

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, surprised. Jay adds, "Shocking, I know."

Sunghoon serves, the ball whizzing over the net. "So, what happened?"

Heeseung remains silent, his jaw tightening. Jake picks up where he left off. "Heeseung was still... figuring things out and Karina got self-conscious about all the attention their relationship got."

Jay continues, his tone more measured. “It wasn’t just the attention. Karina was…insecure. Heseung was the only person she had ever been with, but she wasn’t his first anything. All those other girls he’d been with? It got in her head. She started wondering if she was good enough.”

Sunghoon nods slowly. “So what, she wanted a break?”

“Yeah,” Jay says. “She said she needed to figure out what she really wanted. Heeseung knew what that meant but he didn’t think she’d actually sleep with someone else.”

Jake takes over, his tone blunt. “She got pregnant by another guy.”

Sunghoon’s jaw drops. “Seriously?”

Jay snickers. “And lover boy over there,” he tilts his head in Heeseungs direction as he prepares to serve,  “didn’t care, he offered to help her raise the baby.”

Jake bursts out laughing, striking the ball back. “The dad that stepped up!”

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Very funny.”

Sunghoon studies him quietly. “So… what happened?”

“She said it wouldn’t be fair to me,” Heeseung says quietly. “That I deserved more than being tied down to someone else’s mistake. So we ended things.”

Jake adds, “But her friends didn’t see it that way. They told everyone Heeseung dumped her because she wouldn’t get an abortion. People thought the baby was his. Karina transferred schools to get away from the mess.”

Sunghoon whistles, shaking his head. “That’s… a lot.”

“Yeah,” Jake says. “We had to pick up the mess she left behind. Heeseung was a wreck.”

Jay nods. "It was a mess. Heeseung didn’t bother correcting the narrative. He figured it was better to let people hate him if it meant they’d leave Karina alone."

Heeseung fixes his gaze on Jay’s new serve but his mind is far away. Jake’s words echo in his head dredging up memories he’s tried to bury.

It all started so innocently. Karina had crashed into him in the hallway outside their dorm rooms, her lab manual and papers went flying across the floor. She was in such a rush, barely looking at him as she muttered a quick “sorry” and darted off after Heeseung helped pick up her notes. He’d laughed it off at the time, figuring she was just another busy college student.

But then he started noticing her more. She was his next-door neighbor after all. He saw her leaving for early classes, hair in a messy ponytail, coffee cup in hand. He caught glimpses of her in the common areas, always with her head buried in a textbook or her laptop.

The first real conversation they had was late one night when he came back from a party. She was in the dorm lounge, slumped over her laptop, tears streaming down her face. He didn’t even know why he’d stopped—normally, he would’ve just kept walking. But something about the way she looked so defeated and alone made him pause.

He found out she was locked out of her room, freezing, starving, and overwhelmed by a cell bio lab report she had no idea how to write. Heeseung hadn’t planned to stay. He told himself he was just being nice when he ordered Mexican food for them and offered up his room for her to work in. But as the hours passed, as he stayed up helping her find sources and cracking jokes to make her laugh, something shifted.

That night, he realized he wanted to see her again. And he did—again and again. Their friendship grew and somewhere along the way he fell for her. Hard.

He didn’t even notice at first. It wasn’t one big moment, but a series of small ones: the way she’d scrunch her nose when she was concentrating, how her laughter lit up a room, the way she listened when he talked, like he was the most interesting person in the world. Heeseung started skipping parties, hanging out with her instead. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the need to impress anyone or put on a front. He could just be himself.

When they started dating, it felt like a dream. But dreams don’t last.

Karina wasn’t like him—she wasn’t used to the attention, the whispers, the gossip. His past flings made it worse, their snarky comments and passive-aggressive stares feeding her insecurities. He tried to reassure her, to show her she was the only one who mattered, but it wasn’t enough.

When she asked for a break Heeseung gave her space even though it tore him apart. He told himself she’d come back, that they’d work things out. Heeseung still remembers the night she told him. She’d shown up at his door, tears in her eyes, her hands shaking. He thought she was there to reconcile, to tell him she was ready to try again. Instead, she told him about the baby.

He could’ve walked away. A part of him wanted to. But the love he felt for her, the kind that makes you want to stay even when it hurts—kept him rooted in place.

Heeseung argued and pleaded but she wouldn’t budge. She told him she loved him too much to let him sacrifice his future for her mistakes.

When the rumors started—that the baby was his and he’d dumped her because she wouldn’t get an abortion—Heeseung didn’t correct them. What was the point?

She transferred schools soon after, and that was the end of it. The end of them.

Heeseung exhales sharply, his chest stinging at the memory. He’s not in love with Karina anymore, he knows that. But what they had, how it ended, left scars he’s still dealing with.

She was his first love, the first person he let himself be vulnerable with and she left.

Now, the idea of letting someone in like that again terrifies him. What if they leave too? What if he’s not enough?

Sunghoon glances at Heeseung, who is unusually quiet. The tabloids had painted a picture of him as a careless playboy, but this version of Heeseung—reserved, contemplative—didn’t fit that image. As Heeseung serves again, Sunghoon’s perspective shifts. Heeseung isn’t aloof; he’s guarded, carrying the weight of past scars and unspoken emotions.

“Point is,” Jay finally says, breaking the silence, “you deserve to be happy, Heeseung. And it sounds like this girl—____, makes you happy. Maybe it’s worth giving it a shot.”

Heeseung’s grip on his racket tightens, his gaze distant. “I know. But that’s what scares me.”

Jay frowns. “Why?”

Heeseung hesitates, then sighs. “Because people like her don’t exist in my world. Genuine, kind… It’s easier to push her away than risk losing her.”

The silence stretches between them as the weight of his words settles.

Jake tilts his head, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “What’s worse? Losing her because you didn’t try, or losing her after you gave it your all?”

Jay nods, his expression softening. “Whatever makes you happy, man. You’ve spent years doing what everyone else wants. Maybe it’s time to focus on what you want. You deserve to be happy.”

Heeseung looks at Jay, his jaw clenching as he processes his friend’s words. He knows they’re right. They always are. But admitting what he wants—admitting that he wants you—is the hardest part.

Sunghoon, who has been quietly observing, finally speaks. “You should go for it, man. You’re right, there aren’t a lot of genuine people in our world but it sounds like you’ve found someone who cares about you...why pass that up?”

Jake grins, the humor creeping back into his tone. “Plus, she’s a therapist. I’m sure she can help you sort through those deep-seated mommy and daddy issues.”

Heeseung snorts, shaking his head. “Fuck off.”

As they pack up their equipment, Heeseung lingers, his mind replaying the events of the past week. The kiss, the way you’d looked at him, the vulnerability in your eyes—it had all felt so real. But the morning after, you were gone. No explanation, no goodbye. Just... gone.

He remembers waking up, hoping to talk things out, to figure out what the kiss meant for both of you. He’d wanted to kiss you again, to tell you that he didn’t regret it. But your absence had said it all. You regretted it. You didn’t want him.

That’s why he hadn’t reached out. He’d convinced himself that you needed space, that pushing you would only make things worse. But now, after hearing his friends, he’s starting to question that logic. Maybe he’s been using your disappearance as an excuse to protect himself. Maybe it’s time to take a risk.

As the sun sets, Heeseung sits in his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly. The echoes of Jay’s words ring in his ears: "You deserve to be happy."

For the first time in days, he pulls out his phone, his fingers hovering over your contact. His heart pounds as he considers what to say, what to do. He doesn’t call—not yet—but the decision is made. He’s going to reach out. He’s going to try.

Because Jay is right: he deserves to be happy, and maybe you’re the person who can help him find that happiness.

MONDAY FEBRUARY 24TH, 2025

You’re standing in front of the glass doors to your office building clutching your bag with both hands as if it might slip away and drag you with it. The week you took off feels like a fever dream now—blurry and surreal but undeniably real in the toll it’s taken on your body and mind. You’ve barely slept, barely eaten, and every fiber of your being wants to turn around and leave. But you can’t.

You exhale shakily, willing your feet to move. The lobby is bustling as usual—faces you don’t recognize weaving in and out, some rushing to catch elevators, others lingering by the café for their first caffeine hit of the day.

For a moment, you imagine Jaehyun here, waiting in the corner like he offered. He had insisted on accompanying you today, his day off but you turned him down. “I’ll be fine,” you’d said, more to convince yourself than him. The truth is, you don’t feel fine. Not even close.

Your resolve wavers as you step into the elevator, but you clutch your bag tighter and remind yourself of your plan. Drop off your things, go straight to Miss Min and request to be removed from the case. That’s it. That’s all you have to do. You don’t have any sessions today so you’re free to do paperwork in the comfort of your office alone.

The elevator dings, the doors sliding open to reveal the familiar hallway. Your heart pounds harder with each step, dread clawing at your chest.

The firm feels unfamiliar after just a week away. You round the corner to your office but stop dead in your tracks.

Sakura is standing there, waiting for you. The sight of her sends your heart plummeting into your stomach.

Her outfit is immaculate as always, a Dior top tucked into high-waisted jeans, a fluffy tote bag slung over one shoulder. She looks stunning, almost as if she just stepped out of a magazine spread.

What is she doing here?

You don’t have a scheduled meeting with her today and the possibilities racing through your mind only make the anxiety worse. Did Heeseung tell her about the kiss? Is she here to confront you?

You swallow hard and force a polite smile, hoping it doesn’t look as strained as it feels. “Sakura, hi. What brings you here?”

Her smile is warm and genuine, completely disarming. “I finally found an opening in my schedule,” she says. “I know it’s last minute and I’m sorry but I really wanted to have that one-on-one time with you.”

Your heart sinks further.

Oh.

She’s not here to accuse you of anything. She’s here because she thinks you’re someone she can trust.

Staring into her kind eyes feels unbearable knowing what you’ve done.

“Oh, um…” You hesitate, glancing at the door to your office. “Actually, I don’t… I can’t today. I’m sorry. I don’t have time.”

You try to sidestep her, desperate to escape into the relative safety of your office but Sakura gently places a hand on your arm, stopping you.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly, her tone almost pleading. “I really don’t mean to impose, but this is my only free day off. Please?”

There’s something so sincere in her voice, something that twists the knife of guilt even deeper. You have no right to deny her this. It’s quite literally the least you could do.

You nod reluctantly, forcing a small smile. “Okay. What did you have in mind?”

Sakura’s face lights up as she lifts her tote bag slightly. “Crocheting! I brought some of my materials.”

You smile softly remembering her mentioning it was a hobby of hers. “Crocheting?”

“Yeah!” she says, her excitement palpable. “I thought it might be a fun way for us to spend time together.”

“Sure,” you say quietly, nodding toward your office. “We can work in here. We’ll have it to ourselves.”

You lead her inside, offering her the seat across from your desk. She immediately starts unpacking her supplies—rolls of yarn in soft pastels, a variety of hooks, and a pattern book.

“Have you ever crocheted before?” she asks, glancing up at you with a smile.

You shake your head. “No, never.”

Sakura grins. “Perfect. I’ll teach you the basics.”

She’s patient as she explains each step, showing you how to hold the hook and yarn, how to make a simple chain. Her enthusiasm is infectious and for a brief moment you almost forget the fact that you kissed her fiancée.

When she hands you a pattern she’s already started—a small flower, you thank her and begin carefully following her instructions. Meanwhile, she starts on a new project.

“What are you making?” you ask after a while, glancing at the soft gray yarn in her hands.

“A scarf,” she says, her voice light. “It’s getting colder, and I want Heeseung to stay warm.”

Your hands falter, the hook slipping from your fingers. You force yourself to recover quickly, pretending to focus on the flower in your lap.

“Do you…” You hesitate, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you have feelings for him?”

Sakura blushes, her fingers pausing for a moment before resuming their work. “I know it probably sounds stupid because, well, why would the ‘perfect princess’ want the messed-up playboy?”

She sighs, her voice soft and contemplative. “I don’t know. I can’t help but like him.”

You nod slowly, understanding all too well how easy it is to fall for Heeseung, especially when he lets his guard down.

“You don’t have to rationalize why you like him,” you say quietly.

Sakura smiles faintly, her gaze focused on her work. “I see myself in him, you know? Spending your whole life in the spotlight…it forces you to become someone else. I see that with Heeseung. He hides so much of himself but I know there’s more to him than what he lets people see.”

You nod again, unsure of what to say. The conversation feels like walking a tightrope.

Sakura continues, her voice softer now. “I think he’s very guarded. He keeps me at a distance but I believe if we keep working with you, he’ll learn to open up. He can be a good husband, I know he can.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. You have no doubt either that Heeseung would make an amazing husband. You swallow the lump in your throat and force a small smile. “You’re…good at seeing the best in people.”

She looks up at you, her expression thoughtful. “Do you think that’s a bad thing?”

“No,” you say quickly looking back at the flower. “But…do you think you like him for who he is now, or for who you think he could be?”

Sakura tilts her head, considering your question. “Can’t it be both? Can’t I like him and also want to help him become the best version of himself?”

You hesitate, your fingers tightening around the yarn in your lap. “Maybe. But sometimes, when we try to ‘fix’ someone, we end up falling for the version of them we’ve created in our heads, not the person they really are.”

You don’t know why you’re saying this—or maybe you do. Maybe it’s because you’ve seen the real Heeseung. There’s no need for you to imagine who he is or who he could become because you know. You know his flaws, his frustrations, the way his voice sharpens when he’s annoyed, and how his smile softens when he talks about the things that matter to him. And despite all of it—no, because of all of it….you still like him.

Heeseung doesn’t need fixing. He deserves to be loved unconditionally, not molded into someone else’s ideal.

You glance at Sakura. She doesn’t seem like the type to love with limits. She’s earnest, kind, and patient in a way you’ve never been. If Heeseung allowed himself to get to know her, you could see them being happy together. She would lay her life down to ensure his happiness.

But you?

You’d let the world burn if it meant keeping him safe. You’d tear the universe apart just to put him back together.

It’s an unbearable truth, one you wish you could erase from yourself because no matter how much you care for him, you know that it’s unfair to Sakura.

Sakura nods slowly, her gaze distant. “I guess that’s something I’ll have to figure out. But…I care about him. And I want to see him happy, whether that’s with me or not.”

“Do you mean it?” you ask hesitantly.

Sakura looks up, confused. “Mean what?”

“When you say you wouldn’t mind if Heeseung chose someone else,” you clarify. “Do you really mean that?”

Her fingers pause mid-stitch, and she looks thoughtful. “It would hurt,” she admits. “I’ve come to care about him but I think we both deserve to be with someone who loves us completely. Don’t you?”

You nod slowly.

“I believe he could be that person for me,” Sakura continues, her voice soft. “But if he isn’t, I won’t force it. I’ve spent too much of my life trying to fit into roles that weren’t meant for me. I deserve someone who loves me for who I am and so does he.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, your voice barely audible.

“For what?”

“For trusting me with this.” You respond.

Sakura smiles warmly. “You’re easy to talk to. I can see why Heeseung respects you so much.”

You lower your gaze, unable to meet her eyes. “I’m just doing my job.”

The conversation drifts back to lighter topics as you continue crocheting, but the weight of your guilt never leaves. When the hour is up, you see Sakura out and close the door behind her and lean against it, exhaling shakily. You need to remove yourself.

Crossing the room, you settle into your chair and reach for the files neatly stacked on your desk. Your fingers tremble as you sift through the documents; session notes, progress reports, everything you’ve meticulously prepared over the past month for Heeseung and Sakura.

This was supposed to be just another assignment, your first major case as part of the matchmaking firm’s elite team. You were supposed to help them establish trust, lay the groundwork for a successful marriage and ensure the media viewed them as the perfect couple. But somewhere along the way, it became personal.

You can’t do this anymore. Not when you’ve crossed lines you swore you wouldn’t. Not when you’ve let yourself feel things you shouldn’t.

Gathering the files into a tidy stack, you take a deep breath and stand. You’ll bring these to Miss Min and request to be removed from the case. It’s the only way to salvage what’s left of your integrity and maybe even your sanity.But before you can take a step, there’s a knock at your door.

“Come in.”

The door opens to reveal Dani with a bright smile plastered across her face. She steps inside, holding a clipboard in one hand and a tablet in the other.

“Hey, just the person I was looking for!” she says cheerfully.

You blink, setting the files back down on your desk. “What’s up?”

“Miss Min wanted me to stop by and let you know something,” Dani says, her tone chipper. “She saw Sakura in your office earlier and said you’ve been doing a great job with this case. And since there hasn’t been any bad press with Heeseung lately, she thinks tomorrow’s the perfect day to announce their engagement!”

The words hit you like a freight train. Tomorrow.

You knew this day was coming—it’s what you’ve been working toward. But now that it’s here, the reality of it is suffocating. You force yourself to nod. “That’s…great news.”

Dani’s smile widens. “I know, right? This was your first major case and you killed it! Miss Min is definitely going to put you in charge of more high-profile clients after this.”

“Yeah,” you say quietly, the word feeling hollow. “I’m happy.”

Dani doesn’t seem to notice the strain in your voice. She beams at you one last time before turning to leave but then she pauses and looks back over her shoulder.

“Oh, and Miss Min said you’ve earned a day off tomorrow. Just be on standby in case Heeseung or Sakura need anything.”

You nod again, managing a faint smile. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem! Enjoy your night!” Dani chirps before disappearing out the door.

The moment she’s gone, you sink back into your chair, the files still sitting in front of you. Tomorrow. It feels like a death sentence.

You’re supposed to be proud of yourself, supposed to feel accomplished for guiding Heeseung and Sakura to this point. But all you feel is empty.

Your gaze drifts to your phone on the desk and as if on cue, the screen lights up with a text notification.

9:12 am | heeseung: hey, can we talk?9:14 am | heeseung: please come over tonight.

Your heart pounds as you stare at the messages. You know what you should do. You should say no, maintain the little professional boundaries left and keep your distance. You should focus on preparing yourself for tomorrow, for the inevitable. But you can’t.

You’ve always been selfish when it comes to Heeseung, unable to deny him anything. So you type out a reply before you can think better of it.

9:22 am | you: i’ll stop by after work.

Setting the phone down, you try to convince yourself that this will be the last time. You’ll go over there, tell him the kiss was a mistake and tell him about the engagement announcement. You’ll encourage him to give Sakura a real chance.

Yeah, you’ll do the right thing.

You spend the rest of the afternoon finishing up paperwork, your mind elsewhere the entire time. By the time the clock hits 7 p.m, you’ve packed up your things and are preparing to leave when your phone buzzes with an incoming FaceTime call.

It’s Yunho.

You sigh softly before answering, his smiling face filling the screen.

“Yo,” he greets. “You up for game night at mine? Chisa’s already on her way.”

You hesitate, “I can’t tonight. My first day back was a bit overwhelming. I just need some sleep.”

Yunho frowns, clearly not convinced. “You sure? I don’t want you falling back into a slump.”

“I’m fine. I promise. Just tired. I’ll stop by tomorrow—I’m off, so I’ll spend the whole day with you.”

He studies you for a moment before nodding reluctantly. “Alright. But you better not flake on me.”

“I won’t,” you say softly. “Thanks, Yunho.”

“Anytime,” he says before ending the call.

You exhale slowly, setting your phone aside. You gather your things and head to your car. The drive to Heeseung’s home feels excruciatingly long, your thoughts racing the entire way. By the time you pull up to his home your nerves are frayed but you force yourself to get out of the car and head inside.

This is it. One last time.

You make your way up the familiar stone steps to Heeseung’s front door. Your hand hovers for a moment before you knock, three soft taps against the wood.

A beat passes. Then another. Then another. For a moment, you wonder if he changed his mind about wanting to see you, but then you hear the faint shuffle of footsteps on the other side. The door opens, revealing Heeseung. His expression is unreadable.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice a little raspy.

“Hey,” you reply.

He steps aside to let you in and you hesitantly cross the threshold, the warmth of his home doing little to soothe the chill in your bones. The atmosphere is tense and awkward in a way that neither of you seems to know how to address.

The last time it felt like this was the first time you met him, when you were still trying to figure him out and he was sizing you up in return. That day, you were both strangers, carefully tiptoeing around each other. And now…now, things couldn’t be more complicated.

Heeseung leads you into the living room and gestures for you to sit and you do, choosing the far end of the couch. The space you put between you feels significant, like a boundary you’re desperately trying to maintain.

Heeseung watches you for a moment before sitting down as well, leaning back slightly but keeping his eyes fixed on you. You clutch the strap of your bag, running your fingers along the leather in an attempt to calm yourself. The silence is thick, and you don’t know how to start.

You break first. “Miss Min is announcing the engagement tomorrow.”

The words hang in the air. You glance at him but his expression doesn’t betray much. Heeseung’s gaze shifts away for a moment then back to you. His jaw tightens and he exhales deeply.

“I’m calling it off,” he says suddenly, his voice steady and sure.

Your heart stops. You stare at him, certain you misheard. “W-what?”

“I’m calling it off,” he repeats, turning to face you fully. His eyes are locked onto yours, and the intensity in them makes it impossible to look away. “I’m done prioritizing everyone else’s happiness over my own. I can’t keep pretending to be okay with this.”

You blink at him stunned. Your mind races, trying to make sense of his words. “Heeseung…you can’t just—”

“I don’t want Sakura,” he interrupts. He leans forward slightly, closing some of the distance between you. “I want you.”

The confession feels like a punch to the gut. You shake your head, your hands gripping the strap of your bag even tighter. “No. Heeseung, you don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he says without hesitation. “I’ve tried to deny it, to push it down but I can’t anymore. I can’t lie to myself—or to you.”

“Heeseung—”

“I know this isn’t how things were supposed to happen. I know the way this started was unconventional but none of that changes the way I feel about you.”

You’re frozen, unable to respond.

“I like you. I’ve spent the past month trying to ignore it, trying to convince myself that it was just…a passing thing. But it’s not. I can’t stop thinking about you. About the way you challenge me, the way you see through all the bullshit, the way you care.” He says, his voice trembling just slightly. 

His words are a direct hit to your heart. You swallow hard, your throat tight as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I want you too,” you admit, your voice barely audible. “But we can’t.”

“Why not? Who says we can’t?” He asks, his tone almost desperate now. He scoots closer to you on the couch, his knees brushing against yours.

You shake your head, trying to find the right words. “Because…because it’s messy and wrong, Heeseung. You’re engaged to someone else. Someone kind and sweet who doesn’t deserve to be hurt.”

Heeseung reaches out, his hands cupping your face gently forcing you to look at him. His touch is warm. “I don’t want her. I want you.”

“Heeseung…” you choke out.

“I don’t care how messy it is. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. All I care about is you and I need to know if you feel the same.”

You hesitate, your heart conflicting with your mind. Every rational part of you is screaming that this is a mistake, that you’re walking into dangerous territory. But your heart…your heart is begging you to take the leap.

“I…” Your voice falters, and you look into his eyes, the sincerity in them making it impossible to lie. “I do. I feel the same.”

His lips part slightly, relief washing over his face. “Then that’s all that matters.”

You shake your head again, tears slipping down your cheeks. “But it’s not that simple.”

“It is,” he insists, his hands still cradling your face. “It is if you want it to be. Just say yes.”

“Heeseung…”

“Please,” he whispers, his voice breaking slightly. “Just say yes.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to explode. You know you shouldn’t, you know this is dangerous, but you can’t bring yourself to deny him. You’ve never been able to deny him and you don’t think you could now, not when he’s looking at you like this, like you’re the only thing that matters in the world.

“Okay,” you whisper, barely able to get the word out. “Yes.”

Heeseung exhales sharply, like he’s been holding his breath this entire time. And then before you can second-guess yourself, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft at first, almost hesitant, but it quickly deepens, his hands sliding to the back of your neck to pull you closer.

You melt into him, every doubt, every fear fading away as his warmth envelops you. In this moment, nothing else matters. Just him. Just this.

You part your lips slightly, letting him deepen the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours and a quiet whimper escapes your throat, the sound swallowed by his kiss. Heeseung’s grip tightens, one hand sliding down to your waist as he pulls you impossibly closer.

You barely register the moment when he tugs you into his lap, your knees straddling him as his hands settle on your hips. You instinctively brace your hands on his shoulders. His warmth radiates through the fabric of his shirt, his broad chest firm beneath your palms. You can feel his heart pounding just as wildly as your own.

It feels right; this moment, his touch, the way he holds you. For a fleeting second, you remember all the things you need to address. All the unanswered questions about how this will work, what it will mean for both of you. But right now, none of that seems important. Right now, you focus on the way his lips move against yours, the way his hands hold you as if he never wants to let go.

Your breath hitches when you feel him harden beneath you, the unmistakable evidence of his desire making heat pool low in your belly. The realization sends a flush of warmth spreading across your cheeks, but Heeseung doesn’t give you a moment to linger on it. His grip on your hips tightens slightly as he kisses you deeper.

Without breaking the kiss, he stands, his hands sliding under your thighs to lift you effortlessly. A gasp escapes you, muffled against his mouth as your arms wrap instinctively around his neck. He carries you through the house, navigating the short distance to his bedroom with ease.

When he sets you down on the bed his movements are slow and deliberate. His lips leave yours for a brief moment, and you’re left catching your breath as he pulls back just enough to look at you. The way he gazes down at you makes your chest tighten and pussy clench. There’s so much emotion in his eyes, all mixed together in a way that makes you feel both shy and hot under his gaze.

You look away for a moment, heat rising to your cheeks but Heeseung gently tilts your chin back to face him. “Do you want this?” he asks. His hands fall down to your hips, pushing up your blouse to feel the softness of your stomach beneath his palms.

You look at him through your lashes and stare at his face for a minute trying to decipher what he’s thinking. He’s always been a person who wears their emotions on their face, and now, as you look up into his eyes searching for any hesitation— you find none. You find nothing but pure want and admiration.

“Yes,” you whisper. “I want this. I want you.”

The corners of his lips lift in a small relieved smile and then he’s leaning down again, capturing your mouth in another kiss.

Heeseung pulls back just slightly, his hands still resting on your hips as his eyes search yours. His fingers trail lightly along the hem of your blouse and he murmurs, “Raise your arms for me.” You do as he asks, lifting your arms above your head and Heeseung takes his time peeling your shirt off, his knuckles brushing your skin as he tugs it free. The fabric falls to the floor and he pauses for a moment to take you in. His gaze sweeps over you with such hunger that you lose your breath.

Heeseung pulls his own shirt off in one smooth motion and you can’t help but stare. His chest rises and falls steadily, his toned muscles illuminated in the dim light of the room. He catches your gaze and offers you a small reassuring smile as he leans closer again.

You bite your bottom lip suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze but Heeseung seems to notice. He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “Don’t be nervous,” he whispers, his voice gentle, soothing. “I’ll be gentle.”

You nod slightly, your lips parting as he leans down to press another kiss to your lips. His hands trail down to the clasp of your bra and he pauses for just a moment, giving you time to stop him if you want to. When you don’t, he deftly unhooks it and slides it off your shoulders.

Your breath hitches as the cool air grazes your skin and Heeseung takes a moment to admire you, his eyes softening as if committing every inch of you to memory. His tenderness feels almost overwhelming, and your heart beats wildly as he gently lays you back down on the bed.

He leans in again, placing a soft peck on your lips before his mouth begins a slow descent. His lips trail kisses down your collarbone, lingering for a moment before continuing down the center of your chest.

When his lips reach your navel he pauses, his warm breath fanning over your skin. “Can I taste you baby?”

You shyly nod at the question and use of pet name not used to it. Heeseung shakes his head though, “no baby. I need to hear you say yes. C’mon, let me hear that beautiful voice.”

You lift your hips off his bed not able to voice your wants. He smirks and kisses your naval again. “C’mon baby, tell me what you want.”

You huff frustrated. “Heeseung please…I need you.”

“There we go.”

He helps you unbutton your slacks and slides them down your legs and tosses them onto the growing pile on the floor. Heeseung grips onto the band of your panties and slides them down. Once you’re completely naked, he dips his fingers into your sticky dripping pussy. 

He hisses at the feeling of your warm cunt wrapped around his fingers “Mmm, you’re so wet, baby,” he says, a pathetic whimper escapes you in response. 

Heesueng dives his head in between your thighs and kisses your clit just once before pulling his head back again. There’s a few seconds of silence, of anticipating what he’s going to do next.

You gasp as you watch him lock eyes with you before spitting directly onto your clit. You bite your lip to keep in the moan that wants to escape at the feeling of his spit dripping from your clit down your pussy, making a mess of you and his sheets beneath you.

Heeseung leans back down and latches onto your clit, sucking harshly.  Pleasure shoots through your veins and your stomach clenches. Heeseung groans, the vibration making you shake underneath him. His eyes flutter closed, savoring the feeling of your legs thrown over his shoulders and the taste of you.

His tongue laps up your juices, he’s slurping loudly enjoying every drop of your sweet arousal on his tongue. He licks fast up and down your pussy, parting your folds with the tip of his hot tongue. Your legs are shaking, your right hand tangles in his hair to make sure he stays down. "H-heeseung," you hiccup, starting to grind your hips for added pleasure. 

Heeseung moans, flicking his tongue on your clit quickly. You feel his fingers at your entrance again, playing with your slick, stroking up and down your folds. Your breath quickens more, you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“Fuck,” you whimper, wincing at the slight burn as he inserts two fingers into you slowly. You haven’t had anything inside of you for so long, you welcome the pain that comes with it.

“Gonna stretch you out nice and good,” Heeseung growls against your sopping cunt. “Make sure you’re ready to take my fat cock, isn’t that right baby?” 

You nod dumbly at his words, grinding your hips onto his fingers as the tightening feeling in your lower stomach keeps building.

"Oh, f-fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum." You’re starting to babble, moans becoming increasingly higher in pitch. You try pushing yourself higher up on the bed trying to escape his grasp, it’s all too much. Your thighs start shaking and Heeseung takes it upon himself to grip a little tighter to keep you in place.

He practically buries his face in your pussy, stimulating you with his tongue and the tip of his nose whilst still fucking you with his fingers. He grunts, sucking on your pussy whilst flicking his tongue over your swollen clit, his fingers curling deep inside of you. 

“Cum for me doll,” Heeseung begs, desperate to pull an orgasm from you just to lick it all up. “Be a good girl and cum on my face.”

"Oh fuck," you choke out, your hips bucking. 

Your legs close up on him, nearly crushing his head. Your fingers pull on his hair but Heeseung  keeps on licking and sucking the whole time. With the pressure on your clit and the fullness of his fingers scissoring deep in your core you can’t help it, the budding tightness unraveling as you come onto his tongue. Your body shakes lightly, trembling in his grip as you let out loud needy moans.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” He confesses as he watches you ride out your orgasm.

Heeseung pulls back and exhales shakily, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hip as he leans down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, his voice tender.

You nod still, catching your breath, watching as he pushes himself up from the bed. He moves to his bathroom and disappears behind the partially open door. You hear the faint rustle of a cabinet being opened, and your heart races when you catch sight of him returning with a small box in his hand.

Heeseung sets the box down on the nightstand and pulls out a single foil packet. His movements are deliberate but unhurried, as if giving you all the time in the world to change your mind.

When he settles back beside you he cups your face with one hand and kisses you softly, his lips conveying reassurance and care. “We don’t have to go any further,” he says, his forehead resting against yours. “We can stop here if you want.”

His sincerity makes your heart flutter and for a moment all you can do is stare into his eyes. But then you lean in, your lips brushing his as you whisper, “I don’t want to stop.”

You don’t let the kiss last long, pulling away to look Heeseung in his eyes as you slowly sink to your knees in front of him. He gulps as he watches you with hooded eyes, lifting his hips so you can remove his sweats and boxers. The moment his cock springs out, your jaw nearly drops to the floor. Not only is he long, but he’s also thick and veiny. Your mouth waters at the sight of it, he twitches in the air, red and angry waiting for attention.

You flick your eyes up to meet Heeseung’s impatient gaze before wrapping your dominant hand around the base and slowly tugging. Heeseung groans at the feeling and spreads his legs a bit more to give you better access. You kiss the tip of his erect cock, slowly opening your mouth to suck at the tip of his dick. You wrap your lips around his head, slowly sucking the tip into your mouth as precum drips out and coats your tongue.

Heeseung lets out a breathy moan, thrusting into your mouth slightly as he urges you to take him deeper into your mouth. You willingly swallow more of him, tongue swirling around his head, groaning at the taste of his precum.

You begin bobbing your head, taking more and more of his hard length into your mouth. Heeseung grips on to your hair and slides you further down his length. “That’s it, princess. Take this big dick down your throat.” He begins thrusting his hips gradually, forcing more and more of his cock into your mouth until you take in his whole shaft, your face pressed against his lower abdomen.

Heeseung thrusts harder into your mouth, losing himself in the feel of your lips wrapped tightly around him, letting out a small groan whenever you flick your tongue against his slit, licking the precum.

“F-fuck just like that.” You’re slowly coating his cock in your saliva, the mixture of your spit and his precum turning him into a sticky mess.

Wet sounds of gagging resound through the air, mingling with the sounds of Heeseung thrusting into your mouth. You feel his cock twitch inside you before he says. “Gonna swallow all my cum like a good girl? Hm?”

You hum around him, eager to bring him over the edge. “Oh, oh fuck, I’m cumming.” Heeseung groans, gritting his teeth. He thrusts his hip one last time before cumming. You feel his cum shoot down the back of your throat and you make sure to swallow the warm liquid, not wasting a single drop.

“Fuck. You’re amazing” Heeseung mutters, pulling you off of his dick before kissing you, tasting himself. You kiss him back fervently, your fingers burying into his red locks.

“I need you Hee,” You whimper.

Heeseung nods and picks you up to lay you flat on your back. “Anything for you princess.” He leans over to grab the condom from earlier and opens the foil. He tosses the wrapping and slowly slides the condom down his shaft. Once he’s sure it’s secure he hovers over your body just taking you in.

You blush but whine, spreading your legs a bit more. “Heeseung….please.”

He smirks at the desperation in your voice before leaning down to close his lips over your right nipple. You whimper at the feeling of his tongue on your nipple, sucking it into his mouth before pulling back and blowing cold air on it.

You lay still, anticipating his next move. His eyes flick down. “Your pussy looks so fucking good.” Heeseung says, letting the pink tip of his dick rub against your wet folds. You both moan at the sensation.

With one more rub of his head, he lines himself against your entrance and slowly pushes his hips forward. You think you could come instantly.

Heeseung shifts above you, moving so his hands cage you between both his arms. You moan as he slowly enters you, his girth stretching your pussy out. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and places a kiss at the juncture of your jaw and neck at the feeling of your walls clamping around him. Finally, when he’s completely in your pussy, his head grazing cervix, he stills and shifts his head to meet your eyes. You look up at him through hazy, half lidded eyes, completely lost in the way he opens you up. Heeseung stills for a couple moments, allowing you to get used to his size before pulling out and thrusting in once again, this time in one smooth glide. You let out a choked-out moan, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

The intimacy is overwhelming, a closeness that feels as though it’s unraveling you and putting you back together all at once. He holds you like you’re something precious, something fragile, as if he’s afraid you might slip away if he isn’t careful.

His gaze never leaves yours. The way his eyes search your face, looking for any sign of discomfort fills you with a warmth you’ve never known. There’s no urgency in him, no impatience, just a steady gentle rhythm.

“Right t-there” You mewl, slowly losing yourself in all the pleasure. Heeseung tucks his head under yours and grins against your skin, biting your collarbone gently before sucking a hickey on your skin. He trails kisses down to the valley of your breasts, pressing a kiss against your sternum before taking a nipple into his mouth, suckling gingerly. “P-please Hee, can’t…gonna cum” You babble, unable to form a coherent sentence.

You faintly acknowledge Heeseung grinning against your chest, his right hand slowly inches towards your own before entwining it with your own. Holding your hand over his sheets. You can feel him pour out all his emotions into each and every action as he thrusts into you over and over again.

“You’re so beautiful.” Heeseung whispers.

All of a sudden you cum without warning, the pressure too much. Heeseung pushes your hips down into the bed, pounding relentlessly into you, chasing his own high. He hammers into you one last time before letting out a loud groan as he empties himself into the condom, spurt after spurt of his cum pouring into you.

The world feels quiet now, the only sound in the room your mingled breaths as you both come down from the high. Heeseung’s forehead rests against yours, his hand still clasping yours tightly as if letting go would somehow make the moment less real. His thumb strokes over your knuckles.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice hoarse and laced with concern.

You nod, barely able to gather the words to respond. “I’m okay,” you whisper.

A small, relieved smile touches his lips before he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Heeseung shifts slightly, careful not to crush you as he pulls out. You wince at the sensitivity and he quickly apologizes.

“Stay here,” he murmurs, reluctantly letting go of your hand. He slips out of bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his movement.

You watch as he crosses the room, disposing of the condom in the bathroom and cleaning himself off before grabbing a warm damp cloth. When he returns, he kneels beside the bed, his touch impossibly gentle as he cleans you up murmuring soft reassurances. “You did so well,” he says quietly, his voice full of affection. “Thank you… for trusting me with you.”

Your cheeks warm, but you manage a soft smile and nod.

Heeseung’s gaze softens even further, and he presses a kiss to your knee before standing to place the cloth aside. He joins you back in bed, pulling the sheets up over your bodies before tugging you into his arms. You rest your head on his chest, your legs tangling with his as his hand strokes your back in soothing circles.

“You’re amazing,” he murmurs, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on your back. “I hope you know that.”

You huff a small laugh, finally finding your voice. “You don’t have to flatter me, you already got what you wanted.”

Heeseung chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Maybe I just like telling you how I feel.” He tilts his head to look at you, his expression soft and unguarded. “Can I?”

You glance up at him, confused. “Can you what?”

“Tell you more about me…The messy parts. The things I don’t usually share.”

Your breath catches slightly at the vulnerability in his voice but you nod. “I’d like that.”

His grip on you tightens just a little, as if you're his own personal stress ball. He doesn’t start talking right away, his thumb brushing along your shoulder as if he’s organizing his thoughts. You don’t rush him content to lie there in his embrace waiting for him to open up.

Finally, he speaks. “When I was fifteen, my brother Heejoon was seventeen,” he begins, his voice quiet but steady. “He was… everything you’d expect from an eldest son in our family—smart, responsible, always trying to do the right thing. But he struggled a lot too. Heejoon always had anxiety. It wasn’t obvious at first; he’d just get nervous about things other people didn’t think twice about. But as we got older… it got worse.”

You shift slightly in his arms looking up at him with concern. Heeseung’s gaze is fixed on the ceiling, his jaw tight as he continues.

“Our dad…he’s a no-nonsense kind of man. Everything is about discipline, results, and maintaining the family’s reputation. That summer, he was preparing Heejoon to start interning at the company. Heejoon was terrified but he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t want to disappoint our dad. So he just… pushed himself harder. He started focusing on the business, trying to prepare, but his grades started slipping. He was so afraid of letting Dad down that he…he cheated on a final exam.” 

Heeseung clears his throat. “He got caught and Dad had to bribe the teacher to keep it off his record and let him retake the exam. He was livid, but he didn’t hit him or anything. He’s never laid a hand on us. But his words…” Heeseung’s voice falters, and he looks away.

Your heart aches for him, for Heejoon. You reach up, cupping his cheek and gently guiding his gaze back to you. “What happened?” you whisper.

Heeseung closes his eyes for a moment, like he’s reliving the memory. “Heejoon couldn’t take it anymore. The pressure to be perfect, to be something he wasn’t…that night, after Dad tore into him, he tried to kill himself.”

Your heart drops at the confirmation of what you knew all along.

“I was the one who found him,” Heeseung continues, his voice barely audible now. “We got him to the hospital in time, but… he was never the same after that. His will to live was just… gone.”

You sit up slightly, your eyes searching his face. “Heeseung…”

He meets your gaze, his own eyes glassy but resolute. “Heejoon’s alive. But he’s not… He’s not the same person he used to be.”

You gently take his hand in both of yours, your fingers wrapping around his as if to anchor him. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” you say softly, your voice steady but full of empathy. “And I’m so glad he’s still here. Heeseung… You’ve been through so much and you’re still here too. You’re still fighting. That means something.”

Heeseung shakes his head slowly, his grip on your body tightening. “I blamed myself for years,” he murmurs, his voice strained. “I saw how much he was struggling and I didn’t do anything. I was his little brother—I was supposed to have his back and I didn’t. I just stood there, thinking he’d be fine because he was Heejoon. He was always the strong one.”

His voice cracks and you reach up brushing your fingers lightly along his jaw, grounding him. He leans into your touch almost unconsciously, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“When I see him now…” He pauses, exhaling shakily. “I can’t stop thinking about how different his life could’ve been if I’d just said something. If I’d told someone how scared he was, how much pressure he was under. Maybe… maybe he wouldn’t have felt like he had no other choice.” His gaze drops to yours, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I failed him.”

Your chest tightens at the rawness in his voice, the weight he’s been carrying alone for so long. “Heeseung,” you say softly, “you didn’t fail him. You were a kid too, trying to survive in the same house under the same pressure. You did the best you could with what you knew then. That matters.”

His lips twitch faintly, but the guilt in his eyes doesn’t fade. “Some days, it doesn’t feel like enough,” he admits quietly.

“It is,” you insist, leaning closer your hand still resting against his cheek. “Every time you show up for Heejoon, every time you keep going, you’re proving how much you care. You’re making him proud, Heeseung. I know it.”

Heeseung looks at you for a long moment, his gaze filled with something you can’t quite place. Finally, he nods, his grip on you tightening slightly. “Thank you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

“Where’s Heejoon now?” you ask gently.

“He’s in an assisted living facility,” Heeseung replies. “After the incident, Dad couldn’t… He couldn’t live with him anymore. The guilt ate at him so he sent him away to get professional help. Heejoon’s been there ever since. He’s getting better, slowly. His doctors think he might be able to come home soon.”

You smile softly. “That’s good. I’m glad he’s getting the help he needs.”

Heeseung nods, his expression thoughtful. “I visit him every weekend,” he says.

Your brows furrow slightly. “Every weekend?”

Heeseung glances at you, his brows raising in question.

You hesitate before continuing. “The tabloids… They say you sneak off to Jeju every weekend to sleep with a new model,” you say carefully.

Heeseung scoffs, the sound almost bitter. “Heejoon’s care facility is in Jeju,” he explains. “My parents didn’t want anyone knowing what happened so they sent him there to keep it quiet.”

Your heart aches at the weight he must’ve been carrying alone. “So… those rumors?”

“Bullshit,” Heeseung says firmly. “You’re the first person I’ve slept with in years.”

You blink surprised. “Really?”

He nods. “I won’t lie and say I’ve never slept around. I did, but that was during my undergrad days… before I met Karina.”

The name sends a jolt through you, his ex who he allegedly forced to get an abortion. “Who’s Karina?” you ask carefully, playing oblivious to know the truth.

Heeseung’s expression shifts, the room is quiet save for the hum of the heater and the faint rustle of the sheets as he shifts closer. His hand trails absently along your arm, his touch warm “She was… the first person I ever loved,” he admits.

You listen intently as he begins to tell you about her. He shares how their relationship came to be, how she made him feel seen in a way no one else ever had but he also tells you about the heartbreak that followed when she left. About her carrying another man's baby and leaving because it wasn’t fair to Heeseung despite how badly he wanted her to stay.

Heeseung exhales, his voice trembling just slightly. “I should’ve fought harder. I should’ve convinced her to stay. Instead, I let her go. I told myself it was what she wanted but deep down, I think I was scared. Scared of everything that came with loving her, scared I’d mess it all up anyway.”

He pauses, his fingers grazing your back, his gaze distant. “It’s a pattern, you know? People leave me but maybe… maybe it’s because I push them away first. Like I did with her.”

His words hang heavy in the air. You sit up slightly, leaning on your elbow to face him. “Heeseung, listen to me,” you say softly, your right hand resting gently on his chest. “What happened with Karina wasn’t your fault. You need to stop carrying this like it was all on you, like you had the power to change everything. There’s nothing wrong with you, and you’re more than deserving of love—then and now.”

His lips part slightly as if to protest but no words come out. His eyes search yours, filled with doubt and pain, as though he’s grappling with the possibility of believing you.

“She didn’t leave because you weren’t enough,” you continue. “You were both young, and Karina… she was stuck in an impossible situation. That doesn’t mean you failed her, Heeseung. It doesn’t mean you were to blame. Her insecurities, her choices—they weren’t your burden to carry or fix. Just because you had a past, just because you were more experienced, doesn’t mean you pushed her away. Those were her fears, not a reflection of your worth.”

His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his breathing uneven. His eyes glisten with unshed tears as his brows draw together, struggling with the truth in your words.

“You have to let go of this idea that you’re the reason things fell apart,” you whisper, brushing your thumb tenderly along his jawline. “Sometimes people leave not because of anything you did but because they don’t know how to stay. It’s not about you being enough—it never was. And it doesn’t mean you’re not enough now.”

Heeseung swallows hard, his head dipping as his forehead presses lightly against yours. “I don’t know if I can believe that yet,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

“That’s okay,” you reply, your voice soft but resolute. “I’ll remind you as many times as it takes.”

For a moment the room falls into stillness, the only sound is the mingling of your breaths. You feel his arm wrap tighter around your midsection pulling you closer, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly.

Then, in the quiet you speak, your voice barely above a whisper. “Heeseung… I already knew about Karina”

His head pulls back slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion as his gaze locks onto yours. “What do you mean?” He asks, his tone cautious, tinged with uncertainty.

You take in a breath gathering the courage to continue. “I knew about her. About what people said. Before you told me.”

His confusion deepens, flickers of uncertainty and hurt shadowing his expression. “How?” he asks softly, his voice low and guarded, his walls creeping back up.

You hesitate, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket draped over you both but you push through the fear because this is Heeseung and he deserves honesty.

“Remember how I told you Chisa is a journalist?” you begin carefully.

Heeseung nods slowly but you can already see it—the way his shoulders tense, the way his eyes darken. His defenses are rising, and it crushes you to watch the vulnerability you’d shared moments ago slip away.

“Chisa is writing an exposé. About your college days. She has a source—someone who knows about Karina, about the rumors that you…that you asked her to get an abortion.”

Heeseung goes still, his body tensing beneath your touch. He’s silent for a moment, his gaze fixed behind you. Then finally he speaks his voice sharp and clipped. “How long have you known?”

You swallow the lump forming in your throat, knowing there’s no point in lying. “Chisa got put on the article the day we first met but I didn’t find out about the rumors until… the day you asked me to dinner.”

Heeseung’s jaw tightens and he slowly pulls away from you, the space between you growing wider as your heart drops. He sits up slightly, running a hand through his hair. His expression is a mix of hurt and disbelief.

You instinctively grab the blanket to cover your bare body, not out of modesty but because the emotional distance feels unbearable. “Heeseung…” you begin softly, but he cuts you off.

“You knew all this time,” he says, his voice low and tinged with disbelief. “And you didn’t say anything?”

“I didn’t know how,” you say quickly, your voice trembling. “Heeseung, you have to understand—Chisa is my best friend. This article is everything to her.”

He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he runs a hand through his hair. “And what about me?” he asks, his voice rising slightly. “Did you even think about what that could do to me? About how I’d feel if you believed those rumors?”

“I didn’t believe them. I didn’t, Heeseung but I didn’t know you then. I didn’t know how to bring it up or if I even should! You have to understand—if I said anything to you or Miss Min, it would’ve meant the end of my friendship with Chisa. I didn’t know what to do.”

Heeseung’s gaze is piercing, his silence more cutting than any words he could’ve said. You feel the weight of his disappointment, his hurt and it tears at you. 

You feel tears threaten to spill over now but you don’t bother wiping them away. Instead, you reach for his hand, grabbing onto it tightly even as he stiffens under your touch. The blanket slips from your body leaving you exposed but you don’t care. You need him to understand.

“This wasn’t an easy decision to make. I’ve been stuck between my best friend and her career and the guy I—” You catch yourself, your breath hitching. “The guy I care about. I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner. I’m sorry I hurt you but I don’t want you to be blindsided by this Heeseung. I don’t want you to be hurt anymore. That’s why I’m telling you now.”

Heeseung stares at you, his expression softening slightly as your words sink in. He exhales deeply, the anger in his gaze giving way to understanding. “Okay,” he says softly after a long moment, his tone laced with exhaustion. “Okay.”

Before you can say anything else, he pulls you into his arms, his hand cradling the back of your head as you bury your face in his shoulder. “Don’t cry,” he murmurs, his voice gentle again. “Please don’t cry. I’m not mad at you.”

“Are you sure?” you whisper, your voice muffled against his skin.

He nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I could never stay mad at you.”

The two of you settle back under the covers, his arms holding you close again not leaving any space between the two of you. After a beat of silence, Heeseung speaks again. “I have to pull the plug on the article… you know that, right?”

You nod against his chest, your heart sinking at the thought of what this will mean for Chisa and your friendship. “Can you at least let me tell her before you make any phone calls?”

Heeseung hesitates, his fingers massaging your shoulder as he considers your request. “Are you sure you’ll be able to do that? To look her in the eyes and tell her you’re the reason her dreams won’t come true?”

You flinch at the harshness of his words, but you understand where they’re coming from. “I have to,” you say quietly. “I owe her that much.”

Heeseung exhales, nodding reluctantly. “Okay.”

He holds you closer, his chin resting on the top of your head as the two of you sit in silence. Despite everything, there’s a strange sense of comfort in knowing you don’t have to carry this secret anymore. As the minutes stretch on, the tension slowly fades, replaced by the steady rhythm of your breaths syncing together. And eventually, the two of you drift off to sleep, tangled in each other’s arms.

THE NEXT MORNING

You wake up slowly, sunlight streaming through the curtains and warming the room. For a moment, you forget where you are, your body pressed against soft sheets and someone warm and firm beside you. Blinking, the events of last night come flooding back and a soft smile tugs at your lips. You hadn’t planned to stay the night but waking up here wrapped in Heeseung’s arms, doesn’t feel like a mistake. It feels… right.

Shifting slightly, you glance over at him. He’s still asleep, his features relaxed and peaceful in the early morning light. His hair is slightly mussed, his lips parted as he breathes deeply. He looks younger like this, the weight he often carries nowhere in sight.

You try to move carefully not wanting to wake him up but the slight shift of your body stirs him. His arms tighten instinctively around your waist, pulling you closer as his eyes flutter open.

“Morning,” he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep and a small smile curving his lips.

“Morning,” you reply softly, your own smile growing.

Heeseung leans in and presses a lingering kiss to your lips, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. When he pulls back, his eyes are filled with a warmth that makes your heart race. “I could get used to waking up like this,” he says, his voice still low.

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face, the silky red strands slipping through your fingers. “As nice as this is, I really should get going. Chisa’s probably worried about me.”

Before you can move, Heeseung tightens his hold on you, burying his face in your neck with a dramatic sigh. When he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his lower lip juts out in a pout so exaggerated it almost makes you laugh out loud.

“Stay,” he whines, his voice soft and petulant. “Just for a little longer. Please?”

You blink, momentarily stunned. This side of him is so unlike the composed and confident Heeseung you’ve grown accustomed to. The playful pout on his lips, the slight scrunch of his nose, and the sparkle of mischief in his eyes are all so…unexpected.

And yet, you think to yourself, you’d like to see this version of him more often, this carefree boyish Heeseung who doesn’t seem burdened.

You shake your head, laughing. “Heeseung, as much as I’d love to stay in bed all day, I promised Yunho I’d spend the day with him. And knowing my friends, Jaehyun and Chisa are probably going to tag along.”

At the mention of your plans, Heeseung lets out a resigned sigh, finally releasing his hold on you. “Fine,” he mutters, feigning annoyance. “But only because I’m trying to be supportive of your friendships.”

You sit up, the blanket slipping from your shoulders as you begin gathering your clothes. As you pull your shirt over your head, you glance over at Heeseung. “What about you? What are your plans for the day?”

He clears his throat, his gaze flickering briefly away before returning to you as you move around the room. “I called Miss Min last night,” he begins quietly. “Postponed announcing the engagement.”

Your hands still for a moment, your chest tightening as you think of Sakura and what this means for her. “What are you going to do?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung sighs, his fingers raking through his hair. “I need to talk to Sakura today. In person, it’s the least I can do,” he says softly.

Your heart sinks a little further, your thoughts drifting to Sakura’s feelings for him and how this will affect her. “Let me know how it goes,” you say gently, folding your arms across your chest. “I’d like to apologize to her too.”

Heeseung hesitates, his brows knitting together. “You don’t have to do that,” he says, his voice firm but gentle. “I don’t mind taking the blame for this. You don’t need to get involved any more than you already are.”

You shake your head firmly. “No, Heeseung. I’m just as complicit in all of this. You shouldn’t have to shoulder all the blame—not after everything you’ve already been through. I need to own my part in it too.”

His gaze softens as he looks at you, and he takes a step closer, his hands brushing gently against your waist.  He studies you for a moment before nodding, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You roll your eyes, trying to mask the flutter of your heart. “Don’t try to distract me with compliments,” you tease lightly, though the smile on your lips betrays your feigned irritation.

Heeseung chuckles softly, pulling you closer for a brief moment before letting his hands fall away. “I mean it,” he murmurs.

Once you’re dressed, you grab your phone from the nightstand, only to find it completely dead. Letting out a sigh, you glance over at Heeseung, who is now standing by the bed in just his boxers.

“You should probably put some clothes on,” you tease, unable to stop the smile that forms as he approaches you.

Heeseung smirks, his hands finding their way to your waist as he pulls you close. “Why? Planning on staying a little longer?”

You roll your eyes but your heart flutters as he leans down to kiss you. It’s slow and unhurried, filled with a tenderness that makes you momentarily forget why you need to leave.

When he finally pulls back, you sigh. “As tempting as that is, I really need to go. I have to tell Chisa about the article.”

“Stay for breakfast, at least?” he asks, his tone hopeful.

You hesitate, but the look in his eyes makes it impossible to say no. “Fine,” you relent, laughing softly. “One day, I’ll learn how to tell you no.”

Heeseung grins, taking your hand and leading you to the kitchen. “Good luck with that,” he teases.

You hop onto the countertop as he pulls out a pan and begins preparing the ingredients for pancakes. Watching him move around the kitchen, you find yourself thinking about how natural this feels—how easy it is to picture mornings like this being a regular thing.

As he pours the batter onto the pan, he slides between your legs, resting his hands on your thighs. “Gimme a kiss.”

“The pancakes will burn,” you say, laughing softly.

“They will if you don’t hurry up and kiss me,” he counters, his lips quirking into a playful smirk.

You roll your eyes but lean in, intending to give him a quick peck. Heeseung has other plans, deepening the kiss until you’re breathless. When he finally pulls back, he’s grinning smugly.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter but the warmth in your chest betrays your words.

“Impossible to resist,” he quips, turning back to the stove just in time to flip the pancake, which, to your surprise, isn’t burnt.

Once the pancakes are done, you help him with the eggs while he cuts up some fresh fruit he had laying around. The two of you work together, the easy banter making the morning feel light and carefree.

When everything is ready, you sit together at the kitchen island, plates filled with food. For a while, there’s nothing but the sound of utensils and quiet conversation.

Heeseung breaks the silence, his tone thoughtful. “I could get used to this.”

You glance at him, your cheeks warming. “Me too,” you admit softly.

He doesn’t respond immediately, just stares at you in a way that makes your heart race.

“Your food’s going to get cold,” you say, laughing nervously under his gaze.

Heeseung shrugs, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Worth it.”

You shove his shoulder lightly, trying to hide your flustered state. “Eat,” you scold, and he chuckles before finally picking up his fork.

As you finish your plate, you take a sip of the orange juice he poured for you, noting how he remembered your preference for sweet drinks. You don’t comment on it but the gesture doesn’t go unnoticed.

When Heeseung finishes eating, he stands and helps clear the dishes, his movements unhurried. You grab your bag and dead phone ready to head out.

Heeseung walks you to the door, his hand resting lightly on your waist. As you step outside, he makes no move to let go.

“You’re just in your boxers,” you point out, raising an eyebrow.

“So?” he replies, a teasing grin on his lips.

You swat his arm, laughing softly. “Go back inside before your neighbors get an eyeful.”

Heeseung laughs, pulling you into one last kiss before letting you go. “Drive safe,” he murmurs, his voice soft.

You nod, smiling as you climb into your car. The drive home is quiet, the events of the morning replaying in your mind.

When you arrive, you park your car and head up to your apartment building but when you step into the space, the atmosphere shifts. “Chisa?” you call out, your voice tentative as you set your bag down by the door.

The apartment is eerily silent, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. You step further inside rounding the corner and your breath catches in your throat.

Chisa is sitting cross-legged in the middle of the living room, her back rigid and her gaze fixed on the wall in front of her. Her hands rest limply in her lap but there’s a tension radiating from her body that makes your stomach twist.

“Chisa?” you try again softer this time, taking a cautious step forward.

She doesn’t respond, doesn’t even blink. The silence stretches heavy and suffocating as you kneel in front of her, your hand hesitantly reaching for her shoulder.

“Hey,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

This time, her eyes shift, locking onto yours with a sharpness that sends a shiver down your spine. Her gaze is cold, unyielding, and when she finally speaks, her voice is low and chilling.

“Did you tell Heeseung about my article?”

You freeze. The words knock the air out of your lungs, leaving you grasping for a response. How does she know? Heeseung promised to give you time to talk to her yourself.

“I—what?” you stammer, the sudden intensity of her glare making your heart race.

Chisa’s jaw clenches as she rises to her feet, looming over you. “I got a phone call from his lawyers in the middle of the night. They said I can’t publish my exposé. Did you tell him?”

Your chest tightens as realization dawns. Heeseung must have made the call while you were sleeping. A flicker of anger sparks within you—why hadn’t he let you handle this? You push it down, trying to focus on Chisa who looks like she’s seconds away from exploding.

“Yes.”

Chisa scoffs, her expression twisting into one of disbelief and fury. She takes a step back, shaking her head. “Unbelievable,” she mutters before spinning around and storming toward the hallway.

“Chisa, wait!” you call, scrambling to your feet and following her. “Please, just listen—”

She whirls around so suddenly that you almost stumble. Her hands shoot out, shoving you backward with a force that knocks the breath out of you.

You stumble, catching yourself. The shock of it leaves you frozen for a moment, your mind struggling to catch up with what just happened. Chisa has never done anything like this before. You’ve argued in the past, of course you have, but even in your worst moments, she never laid a hand on you. Not once.

She’s seething. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her fists clenched so tightly at her sides that her knuckles turn white. Her eyes, usually warm and filled with love or mischief, are blazing with an intensity that makes your stomach churn.

“Listen to what?” she spits, her voice rising. “To you defending that manwhore? To you justifying why you chose him over me?”

“I didn’t choose him over you!”

“Yes, you did! You sacrificed my career for him! For what? Did he fuck you too?”

The words hit you like a slap and your mouth opens but no sound comes out. Chisa’s eyes widen as she takes in your reaction, her expression shifting from anger to disgust.

“No way,” she whispers, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “You sold me out for some dick? Were you that fucking desperate?”

Your chest tightens with indignation. “It’s not like that!” you snap, your voice rising to match hers. “My relationship with Heeseung has nothing to do with why I told him.”

Chisa stares at you as if you’ve grown another head, her voice dripping with disdain. “Relationship?” She lets out a humorless laugh. “For someone with a master’s degree in psychology, you’re one dumb bitch. He’s not capable of loving anyone. Not his ex, not Sakura, and definitely not you.”

You flinch at the mention of Sakura, your mind racing. “Sakura? What—”

Chisa cuts you off, turning on her heel and storming back into the living room. She grabs the remote and flicks on the TV, jabbing the buttons with trembling hands.

The screen flickers to life, and your stomach drops like a stone when the news anchor’s voice fills the room. Their tone is bright and celebratory.

“Breaking news! A fairytale ending for Lee Heeseung and Miyawaki Sakura.”

A photo of the two smiling together flashes on the screen, and your knees feel like they might give out.

Chisa crosses her arms, her glare burning into you as the broadcast loops back to commentary. “The announcement was made official two hours ago,” she says coldly, her voice cutting through the air.

Two hours ago.

You were sitting in Heeseung’s kitchen, eating pancakes while he talked about getting used to seeing you in his home. He had said he’d told Miss Min to postpone the announcement. He’d promised. Your mind spins, struggling to reconcile the timeline. Did Heeseung lie? Or did something else happen, something out of his control?

“He’s scum. All he cares about is sex. And for you to think he could be happy with you—” She shakes her head.

“That’s not true! Your source lied, Chisa. He didn’t force Karina to have an abortion! He’s not sneaking off to Jeju every weekend to sleep with someone new! It’s all rumors, and the press has it twisted. They’re making his life hell! I couldn’t let you publish that article. It would have ruined him.”

Chisa’s expression shifts, her glare turning into something almost unrecognizable. Hurt mingles with her anger, and her voice trembles as she fires back, “So what? It was better to ruin me?”

You snap.

“Not everything is about you, Chisa! He’s a person too, with real feelings! He’s been through so much and he doesn’t deserve this!” You take a shaky breath, your voice still trembling with emotion. “There will always be another article to write, another person to exploit but Heeseung doesn’t deserve it. Get over yourself.”

Chisa’s face falls, her eyes wide with disbelief but you don’t give her a chance to respond. You turn on your heel and storm to your room, slamming the door shut behind you.

Your chest heaves as you lean against the door, your mind racing. This is not how things were supposed to go. You weren’t supposed to fight with Chisa—not like this.

You take a shaky breath and push off the door, fumbling to plug your phone into the charger. Impatience gnaws at you and you grab your laptop instead flipping it open and opening your messaging app.

Messages flood the screen. Texts from Chisa, Dani, even Miss Min.

7:25 pm | chiz🧸: where are you? game night started!!! 7:50 pm | chiz🧸: nvm yunho told me you can’t make it 10:49 pm | chiz🧸: im back home now where r u loser 12:15 am | chiz🧸: ? 

You close the tab, your chest tightening as guilt seeps in.

4:32 am | danielle: do you know why heeseung called the office to postpone the announcement???

You let out a sigh of relief. Heeseung hadn’t changed his mind. He tried to stop it. You make a mental note to respond to Dani later, opting to read Miss Min’s messages.

4:55 am | Boss: You need to meet with Heeseung and Sakura. Get them aligned again. 10:37 am | Boss: The announcement is moving forward. It’s what his parents want.

So that’s what happened. A new message pings on your screen, it’s from Heeseung.

12:08 pm | heeseung: just saw the news. i’m so sorry 12:08 pm | heeseung: i don’t know what happened but i’ll fix it. 12:08 pm | heeseung: i’m on my way to meet with sakura now.

You don’t respond, instead you fall against your bed frame overwhelmed. Tears threaten to spill but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. This can be fixed you try to reason, yeah. This can be fixed. Instead of wallowing in tears, you strip off your clothes and head into the bathroom. A hot shower…that’ll make everything better.

The water warms your skin, soothing your tense muscles as you try to wash away the sweat and grime from the night before. But your mind won’t stop racing. You think about Heeseung. About boundaries you’ll need to set with him. About Chisa—her hurt, her anger, the way she shoved you. The memory stings as do her words. You wonder if you’ll ever be okay again.

Steam fills the room, but it doesn’t clear the haze in your mind. All you can do is stand there, letting the water wash over you, hoping it’ll drown out your sadness. You spend over an hour in there, letting the water wash over you and your thoughts consume you.

When you exit the shower, the bathroom is silent save for the steady drip of water from the showerhead as you step out, your skin flushed from the heat. You grab a towel and wrap it around yourself, your hands moving on autopilot as you dry off. The warmth of the shower clings to your skin providing some comfort.

You pull on a pair of soft sweatpants and an oversized hoodie before padding back into your bedroom, you glance at your phone charging on the nightstand. Its screen lights up repeatedly, vibrating with an almost frantic urgency.

Frowning, you unplug it. The moment it’s in your hand, it buzzes again, a steady stream of notifications flooding the screen. Text after text appears, the sheer volume of them making your stomach churn.

Your sister’s name catches your eye, her message buried among others from Dani, Heeseung, and even Jaehyun.

Your breath hitches. Your sister hasn’t spoken to you in months. She claims to be too busy with her husband and kids but truthfully you think she just can’t stomach being around you knowing each conversation you’ll bring up your mother.

Why is she reaching out now?

Before you can open her messages, another text pops up at the top of the screen from Jaehyun.

12:12 pm | hyunie🐶: are you okay?

Your chest tightens. A gnawing sense of dread climbs up your spine as you respond

12:13 pm | you: ??? 12:13 pm | hyunie🐶: you haven’t seen? 12:14 pm | you: seen what?

The three dots indicating he’s typing appear and you hold your breath, dread pooling in your stomach. When the link comes through, you click it without thinking.

Your heart plummets as you read the headline: Heeseung’s Secret Romance: Scandal Behind the Engagement.

The article is a brutal exposé, detailing Heeseung’s past controversies, his relationship with Karina, the lies about the abortion then him trying to rebrand by leeching off of Sakura through an engagement and finally, the revelation of an affair. Chisa posted it anyway. She posted the exposé.

Your breath comes in short, shallow gasps as you skim the article. Chisa’s words are scathing, painting you as a homewrecker and Heeseung as a manipulative womanizer. She leaves you nameless but the implications are clear, this is her firing back at you.

Your phone buzzes again and you almost drop it. Jaehyun is calling.

You answer, your voice barely above a whisper. “Hello?”

“Is it true?” 

“...Yes.”

“Shit. Okay. Look, stay off your phone. Don’t read any more of it, okay? Yunho and I are coming over.”

You nod instinctively forgetting he can’t see you. “Okay.”

“Just… don’t spiral. We’ll be there soon.”

The call ends but you don’t put your phone down. You can’t. The panic bubbling inside you demands an outlet and ignoring it feels impossible. Against Jaehyun’s advice, you open Twitter.

Your name is trending. So are Heeseung's and Sakura’s.

You click on the hashtag, your heart pounding as you scroll through the tweets. Each tweet feels like a slap to the face, but you can’t stop. You keep scrolling, the comments getting worse and worse.

A new post catches your eye, a link to a Naver article. The thumbnail is a picture of you and Heeseung walking out of the hotel bar after your one-on-one meeting. The title is even worse than Chisa’s: Lee Heeseung’s Mistress Revealed: The Marriage Counselor Who Betrayed the Nation’s Princess

The article is a gallery of photos and commentary, each image scrutinizing your every move. This one names you outright, detailing how you entered Heeseung’s life as a marriage counselor assigned to help him and Sakura navigate their engagement.

Instead of counseling the couple, sources claim ____ became romantically involved with Heeseung, undermining Sakura, a beloved actress and national icon. Photographic evidence further suggests a relationship that goes beyond professionalism.

Photographs accompany the text.

Him picking you up for dinner, his hand resting casually on the small of your back.

You walking into the restaurant on valentines holding the bouquet he gave you.

You entering his home late at night.

You leaving this morning, followed by a quick shot of him kissing you goodbye.

The captions are unsavory.

“Caught in the act: ____ leaving Lee Heeseung’s home after a cozy night in.”, “A romantic dinner for two—how long has this been going on?”

You scroll down to the comments, your vision blurring as you read them.

⤑ she’s disgusting. how dare she betray sakura like this? +1,102 ⤑ heeseung’s trash but she’s worse. she’s supposed to be a counselor? what a joke 💀 +874 ⤑ poor sakura. she deserves so much better (╥﹏╥) +2,347 ⤑ omo she’s so brazen 💀 +366

Your chest tightens painfully and your hands begin to shake. The more you scroll, the worse it gets.

⤑ she knew exactly what she was doing. she’s a homewrecker. +613 ⤑ imagine being this desperate. she’s ruined her career for what? a fling? ㅋㅋㅋㅋ +1,209 ⤑ sakura is the nation’s princess. this woman is a nobody. she doesn’t deserve him. +4,102

Your breath comes in shallow gasps as the room seems to shrink around you. Your phone trembles in your hands, and the screen darkens for a moment, forcing you to see your own reflection—tear-streaked and unrecognizable.

You sink to the floor, your back pressed against your bed, the phone slipping from your grasp. A loud creak breaks through the haze.

The door to your room opens slowly and you look up to see Chisa standing there, her expression is unreadable, somewhere between anger and exhaustion.

For a moment, neither of you speaks.

Your lips part to say something—anything—but the words catch in your throat.

Chisa steps farther into the room, her gaze sharp and accusing. “You’ve turned into him, you know.”

You blink, confused. “What?”

Her lips curl into a bitter smile but there’s no humor in it. “Your dad. You’ve turned into your father.”

“I…”

“You always hated him for what he did to your mom,” Chisa continues, her voice rising with every word. “Every time he cheated, every time he lied, every time your mom sat crying in the kitchen, you hated him. You swore you’d never be like him. That’s why you became a marriage counselor, isn’t it? To stop people like him from ruining their families.”

Your heart pounds as memories flood back—your mother’s tear-streaked face, Chisa’s arms wrapped around you as she whispered, It’s going to be okay, I've got you. But now…

Chisa’s voice drops, the anger giving way to something softer, sadder. “And yet, here you are. Sleeping with someone else’s fiancée. How do you think that makes me feel? Watching you become the very thing you hate most?”

You open your mouth to defend yourself but the truth lodges itself in your throat. The excuses you’ve told yourself—Heeseung and Sakura aren’t really in love, their relationship isn’t real, this is different—feel hollow without him here to hold you, to remind you that you aren’t a monster because even if the engagement wasn’t real, Sakura’s feelings for Heeseung are and you knew that, you knew and still went for it.

The thought grips you, your stomach twisting as guilt crashes over you like a tidal wave. You’re no better than your father.

“Chisa…” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t mean what? To hurt people? To betray the one person you were supposed to help? You think that makes it better?”

Tears blur your vision but you don’t bother wiping them away.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

Chisa shakes her head. “Sorry doesn’t fix this. Sorry doesn’t undo what you’ve done. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re exactly like him.”

For a moment, you think she’s going to leave but she lingers in the doorway, her gaze softening just enough to twist the knife.

“He’s not a good person,” she says finally, her voice quiet but firm. “And neither are you, if you keep letting him drag you down.”

The door clicks shut behind her, leaving you alone in the suffocating silence. The room feels colder after Chisa leaves. Her words play on a loop in your head, relentless and unforgiving.

“You’ve turned into him.”

“You’re exactly like him.”

You press your palms to your eyes, trying to block out the memory but it’s no use. It claws at you.

Chisa had been there for all of it—every fight, every slammed door, every tear your mother cried. She’d been the one who stayed up with you in your room, distracting you with dumb jokes and snack runs when the shouting downstairs became too much. She was the one who held you when you sobbed after catching your father’s texts to another woman, promising you that you’d never have to deal with anything like that when you were older.

Not your sister.

She had her own way of dealing with it. When things got bad, she’d leave, disappearing for days at a time. Spending nights at friends’ houses, coming back only when she couldn’t avoid it anymore. Then she left altogether—first for college, then for her own life, far away from the wreckage of your family.

Chisa stayed.

She was more of a sister to you than your actual sister ever was. She sat through the storm with you soaked in the same despair and somehow managed to hold you together when you thought you might break apart.

And now, after everything, you’ve betrayed her.

The irony tastes bitter, twisting in your gut like a knife. You didn’t just become the thing you despised; you became the thing that broke your family.

Your phone buzzes again from where it lies abandoned on the floor. You glance at it, reluctant to pick it up but the notifications don’t stop. They come in rapid succession, each one a reminder of how far this has spiraled out of control.

Your hands shake as you reach for it, curiosity overriding the gnawing dread. The screen lights up, showing messages from people you haven’t spoken to in years—college acquaintances, coworkers, even distant family.

You clutch the phone tighter, staring at the screen without seeing it. it’s all too much. Finally, you set the phone aside and pull your knees to your chest.

You don’t cry.

Instead, you sit there in silence, replaying everything in your mind. The choice to be with Heeseung, your night spent tangled in his arms, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world. You don’t regret any of it—not the moments you shared, not the feelings that grew despite everything stacked against you. What you feel for him is real and that’s something no headline or scandal can take away.

But you also can’t ignore the fallout. Your career lies in ruins, Chisa, your best friend—your sister in every sense of the word wants nothing to do with you and the trust you’d spent years building with her is gone. You’ve lost her and the weight of that is unbearable.

The word temptation floats to the surface of your mind. It’s what started all of this, isn’t it? The pull of something you can’t have, the magnetic force of wanting someone you weren’t meant to want. 

You don’t regret Heeseung but you do regret everything it’s cost you. Temptation led you here. Desire kept you here.

And for the first time, you’re not sure how to fix it.

➤ taglist: @adoredbyjay @acousarah @fancypeacepersona @lovingvoidgoatee @seungjiseyo @starry-eyed-bimbo @cloud-lyy @lprww @mitmit01 @cupiddolle @heestruck @sol3chu @xylatox  @planetmarlowe @M1kkso @clandestineself @yuniesluv @wonniesdoll @i03jae @aggarwaldrishti @jakesfurry @hanversace @right-person-wrong-time @missychief1404 @iamliacamila @jaems-left-toe @heesngmluv @ssanhwatto @itsyagirll @theothernads

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [13] - Clouds

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Helping out an ex comes with questions.

Word Count: 3283

CW: Explicit language, angst, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

You’d had your fair share of toxic breakups but this break up with Logan?

This one took the cake.

Thankfully, you had been pretty good at hiding it whenever Theo was near and now nearing the third month of your break up, you were getting better at distracting yourself. So when Nik and Jamie invited you and Theo and Julie to breakfast on Saturday morning, you decided to go and have some fun with them. Theo was holding Nik and Jamie’s cat in his lap, petting him with one hand while he waved his fork around with the other, chattering away.

“And then I gave the wrong answer but then I changed it when I remembered what it said on my book because I had read it the night before, and Professor X said I was one of his best students ever!”

“Well this Professor X sounds right,” Jamie said with a smile. “You’re the smartest kid I’ve ever met.”

Theo gave him a huge smile. “Am I?”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely yes,” Nik added and Julie pinched Theo’s cheek gently.

“And the cutest too.”

“Thank you!” Theo chirped and brushed his fingers through the cat’s fur. “Um- did my mom tell you I have a cat too now?”

“She mentioned it,” Nik said. “Sir…”

“Sir Bartholomeow!” Theo said. “I think he’d get along well with Purrlock. Right Purrlock?”

The cat just blinked at Theo.

“So um—the other day, he wanted to play catch with me I think, so he ran away and I was running after him, and I almost crashed into Laura –she’s a new student, Mr. Logan’s daughter, and then…”

You couldn’t even pay attention to the rest of the sentence as your head snapped up and you blinked a couple of times dumbly. Every adult around the table seemed to be at a loss for words; Nik’s eyes widened, Jamie frowned and Julie’s jaw dropped while you tried to pull yourself together and snap out of the shock.

“And then I found him by the lake, and I think he was trying to make friends with the fish but I’m not—”

“Sorry—” you cleared your throat. “Bean, what was that?”

“Sir Bartholomeow was trying to make friends with the fish,” Theo repeated, taking a piece of pancake into his mouth and you sat up straighter, your heartbeat getting faster.

“No, about the uh…the new student?”

“Oh yes,” Theo said. “Laura. She’s a bit weird. She likes to glare at people and she never talks.”

“Did you say she’s Logan’s daughter?”

Theo nodded his head, chewing on his bite, completely oblivious to everyone’s reaction. Jamie mouthed ‘what the fuck’ before Nik elbowed him and you shook your head.

“Did she…did he—um, how do you know she’s his daughter?”

“Oh everyone in the school knows,” Theo said as Purrlock jumped from his lap, and Theo turned to you, pleading with his eyes.

“Go ahead,” you said and he grinned, then ran after him out of the kitchen. You let out a breath, turning to Julie.

“What the fuck?”

“How did we not know about this?” Julie whispered while Nik rapped his knuckles on the table.

“He never told you?”

“No!” you said. “No I think I would’ve remembered!”

“This just proves he was a bad idea all along,” Jamie stated and you raised your brows.

“Me judging someone for being a single parent would be a bit hypocritical, Jamie.”

“I’m not talking about being a single parent, obviously!” Jamie said, offended. “I’m talking about how he didn’t tell you anything about his daughter. Sounds like too big of a detail to keep hidden.”

You groaned, burying your face into your hands.

“I don’t understand,” you muttered before lowering your hands. “He never once mentioned that.”

“Are we sure he and the mother are separated?”

Your head shot up. “What?”

“I’m just saying—”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “No. Logan can be an asshole but he’s not that big of an asshole.”

“You said it yourself, he’s fucking with your head.”

“I said he fucked with my head,” you corrected him, your heart skipping a beat. “Which won’t happen again. I don’t even talk to him anymore, and I’ve been hanging out with Hayes remember?”

Nik looked over his shoulder.

“Theo?” he called out. “Sweetheart can you come here for a sec?”

The rushed footsteps reached your ears before Theo appeared at the door.

“Yes?” he said, making his way to you and you smiled, reaching out to fix his glasses.

“Do you know anything about Laura’s mom?” Nik asked and Theo hummed, climbing to your lap.

“She doesn’t have a mom.”

You looked down at him, softly stroking his hair. “Everyone has a mom, Bean.”

“Not Laura. Ralph says she was made in a lab.”

 You exchanged glances with Jamie.

“A lab?” Jamie asked. “How’s that buddy?”

“I don’t know,” Theo said, reaching out to pop a piece of pancake in his mouth. “Maybe that’s why she doesn’t talk. I wouldn’t want to talk to people either if I didn’t have a mom.”

You pressed a kiss on top of his head, hugging him tight.

“Can I go play with Purrlock?” he asked, looking up at you and you smiled at him.

“Sure,” you said. “Go ahead and play with Purrlock.”

                                                     *

You and Logan had managed to stay out of each other’s way since that moment in his room. He had tried to call you a couple of times but you never answered, and you had made sure not to leave the car whenever you dropped Theo off.

Logan had dumped you, so you weren’t going to let him play with your emotions just because he was jealous you were moving on with Hayes.

Which you weren’t even sure what you were doing with Hayes counted as moving on, considering you two still weren’t dating.

Theo had asked you if he could take Cheeto and Popcorn to school for the week and you had agreed after changing their tank so one with a lid on. You figured if he wanted to introduce them to Sir Bartholomeow it was better to play it safe so you had given him strict instructions never to keep the lid off whenever his cat was near.

“Do you need help, Bean?” you asked as you stepped out of the car and helped him shoulder his backpack.

“No thank you,” he said and gasped as the cat jumped into his arms. “Hi Sir Bartholomeow! Did you miss me on the weekend?”

“Hi Sir Bart,” you said with a smile and scratched at his head. “You have all your books, your phone, and the cupcakes?”

“Yeah,” he said and stole a look at the yard, then turned to blink up at you. “Mommy?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“That’s her,” he whispered. “That’s Laura.”

You looked over your shoulder to see the little girl sitting by herself in the bench, dangling her feet back and forth as she listened to music on her headphones. Now that you knew she was Logan’s daughter you could see the resemblance but you had a feeling that you would’ve been able to tell anyway seeing the way she glared at people whenever she raised her head to look at them. A small smile pulled at your lips before you tilted your head.

“Why is she alone?”

“Hm?”

“Why is she sitting alone?”

“Well, she doesn’t speak to anyone, mommy,” Theo said as if the answer was obvious. “So no one speaks to her.”

You could feel your chest getting heavy. “She has no friends?”

“No,” Theo said and you pursed your lips, then crouched down to fix his glasses.

“Then you’ll make friends with her, Bean.”

Theo pulled his brows together in confusion. “Me?”

“Mm hm.”

“But mommy, she doesn’t speak to anybody,” he whispered and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Well, then it’ll be a fun friendship. You love talking and she sounds like a good listener.”

“But why doesn’t she talk to anyone?”

“That’s for her to know,” you said. “But remember what I always say. When we have something good, it’s our responsibility to share it and use it to help people.”

He nodded, deep in thought.

“And you have a lot of friends here.”

“I do!”

“So you can help Laura have friends as well,” you told him. “Things would be a bit boring here without your friends, right?”

He nodded again fervently.

“Maybe she likes animals too,” he said, stealing a look at her. “Everyone likes animals and I can introduce her to Sir Bartholomeow and Cheeto and Popcorn. She can come with us to the lake maybe.”

“Sounds like a fun idea,” you said with a smile. “See Bean? You’re incredibly good at this already.”

He gave you a proud smile and hugged you with one arm while holding Sir Bartholomeow with the other. You pressed a kiss on the top of his head, then reached out for the small fish tank on the backseat to get it.

“Are you sure you can carry it?”

“Yes, I’m super strong,” Theo said, making you let out a laugh and you gave the fishtank to him. Once you were sure it wouldn’t fall, you repressed a smile at the happy expression on his face; a cat under one arm and the fishtank under the other.

“Have a nice week!”

“You too mommy!” he said and made his way to Laura. Laura seemed surprised when she saw him stop in front of her and pulled her headphones out of her ears to frown at him slightly, but that did nothing to discourage Theo.

“Hi!” he said, his cheerful voice making you smile. “I’m Theo, and this is Sir Bartholomeow and these are Cheeto and Popcorn. Do you want to be friends?”

Laura blinked a couple of times, then nodded slowly.

“Yay!” Theo said. “I can tell you all about them but um—I need to put Cheeto and Popcorn in my room so that they can officially meet Sir Bartholomeow. We can walk there together if you want and then I can introduce you to Ralph and Timmy and Lucas and everyone else.”

Laura looked around as if she wanted to see whether this was a joke or a threat and her eyes fell on you. You gave her a warm smile and she only stared at you before turning to Theo, then pushed herself off the bench without a word and followed Theo into the mansion while he happily chattered away. You heaved a sigh and watched them until they disappeared into the building, then smiled to yourself and got in the car to drive off.

                                                     *

“There you go!” you told the customers with a bright smile as you placed the plate on the table. “Bacon and eggs for you, and pancakes for you. Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No thank you,”

“Of course,” you said and went back behind the counter to repress a yawn. Stacey gave you a sympathetic look.

“Long night?”

“You could say that,” you muttered. “I’m so ready to go home and sleep for like ten hours or something.”

“I’d love to do that but I promised my friends we’d go out tonight,” she said. “And you’re invited as usual?”

“I’m not in much of a party mood,” you said apologetically. “Thanks though.”

“You sure? Paul and his friends are coming too.”

You raised your brows. “Is that right?”

“Don’t do that voice,” she said, pointing at you with a pen and you stole a look at the kitchen window, then turned to him.

“I’m not saying anything,” you said. “Other than that you have been hanging out with him more than usual lately.”

“That counts as saying something,” she told you, making you let out a laugh but your laughter died in your throat when you heard the front door open and turned your head to see Logan. Despite your better judgment, you could feel your heart beating faster but you frowned at yourself and pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes at him.

“The kitchen is closed,” you heard Stacey say as Logan gave you a curt smile and you repressed a laugh, then shook your head.

“Thanks Stace,” you told her and she shrugged her shoulders, then walked to take another customer’s order. You clicked your tongue at Logan, tilting your head.

“Why are you here?”

“I uh…” Logan swallowed thickly. “You haven’t been answering my calls—”

“Wonder why, you genius.”

“And I wanted to thank you.”

That made your frown deeper and Logan cleared his throat.

“Theo said you told him to make friends with Laura.”

A look of realization dawned on your face and you ran a hand over your eyes.

“I didn’t do that for you.”

“No I know,” Logan said quickly. “I know. I got the message after what happened the other day, before the mission.”

“That was you being toxic as fuck, and trust me when I say that it will never happen again buddy,” you told him sternly, looking him dead in the eye and he paused for a moment before he nodded his head.

“Got it.”

“Good.”

“Thank you anyway,” he said. “I know you didn’t do it for me but I really appreciate it, for Laura.”

“It sure was a choice to keep her existence a secret but—” you started and Logan shook his head.

“I didn’t keep it a secret,” he said. “I didn’t know she existed until that mission.”

You blinked a couple of times. “Come again?”

“She apparently was created as a part of this…project,” he said. “They were creating mutant soldiers and they had my DNA. I don’t know her mother, neither does she. She was raised in the lab by the nurses, according to her file.”

You covered your mouth, letting out a breath. “What the fuck?”

Logan let out a dry laugh. “My reaction exactly.”

You could feel your stomach doing an unhappy flip.

“Is she okay now?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Logan said. “Actually your guess would probably be better than mine.”

You bit inside your cheek and looked over your shoulder.

“The kitchen isn’t actually closed,” you told him. “Do you want anything?”

Logan hesitated for a moment. “A coffee would be nice if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing,” you said and grabbed a cup, then filled it with coffee and put it in front of him.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” you said. “So what…like, she’s a mutant too?”

“She seems to have all my abilities,” Logan said. “So that part of the project worked I guess. But they didn’t really let her out of the lab so she barely knows anything about the outside world.”

You let out a breath and Logan drummed his fingertips on the table.

“That’s why I wanted to say thank you,” he said. “I really appreciate what you told Theo. You didn’t have to do that.”

“No—of course,” you said. “I mean, whatever happened between you and me has nothing to do with her. Every kid deserves to be happy and have friends and…you know, be a kid.”

“I’m not sure if that’s in the cards for her anymore,” he said. “They raised her to be a weapon.”

“Well buckle up buddy, it’s your responsibility to change that now.”

Logan paused for a moment, then cleared his throat.

“Listen, you obviously don’t owe me anything,” he said. “But uh—do you have any tips?”

“For raising a kid?” you asked and he nodded fervently.

“I mean you’re the best parent I’ve seen, and Theo is the happiest kid I’ve ever met,” he said. “But I have zero idea what I’m doing so…”

You gawked at him before a laugh escaped from your lips.

“Well, this is weirdly validating,” you said. “I’ve been telling myself the same thing since I was eighteen and they put Theo in my arms. Interesting to see how you’re never really ready for that, even at 200 years old.”

Logan let out a small laugh.

“Nah, trust me,” he said. “Theo loves you, and you’re doing everything right. Laura hates me.”

“I don’t think that’s true—”

“Oh it is true, she stabbed me multiple times.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “You have healing abilities, you’ll be fine. I’m still not sure my eardrums will ever go back to what they used to be because Theo used to cry like a goddamn banshee for hours so like, who’s the real victim here?”

That irresistible smile curled his lips, making your chest feel all warm.

 “I think the first rule of parenthood is the crippling self-doubt,” you told him. “You’ll catch up, no worries.”

“To repeat, it’s not self-doubt if she hates me."

You pulled your brows together.

“Logan,” you said. “Why do I have a feeling that you want Laura to act like Theo?”

“I mean it wouldn’t hurt—”

“I’ve had years to build that with Theo,” you said. “It doesn’t automatically happen the moment someone says you’re a parent. You need to put in the work for that.”

From the look on his face, you could tell that he hadn’t thought about that before.

“I don’t think…” he trailed off, making you frown. “I don’t think I’m the right person for this. To be a father.”

“It’s terrifying, I get it but you’re pretty good with kids actually,” you told him. “You’re very good with Theo.”

“It’s different with Theo.”

“How’s that?”

“Theo is a part of you,” Logan muttered. “Laura is a part of me.”

You pulled back slightly, your heart clenching in your chest.

Oh.

Of course. That made sense now.

“Your self-hatred can’t run that deep,” you told him, your throat burning. “Laura being your daughter doesn’t automatically mean she’s doomed, Logan. Despite what you might think—”

“It dooms her to be a weapon,” he rasped out, the unsaid like me hanging in the air and you shook your head fervently.

“Anyone can be a weapon if you let them,” you insisted. “You don’t want Laura to be a weapon? Don’t raise her to be one.”

He held your gaze in his and opened his mouth to say something but before he could, Stacey cleared her throat loudly, making your head snap up and you saw Hayes walking into the diner. You blinked a couple of times, desperate to appear normal and pulled back a little to smile at him.

“Hey!”

“Hi,” he said, smiling back at you as he took the seat beside Logan’s. “Sorry I dropped by unannounced, I had a small break so I figured…”

From how Logan’s body went rigid, you knew he recognized Hayes’ scent because it was on you that one time. You stole a look at him and his jaw clenched but then he forced a curt smile at you.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he said, putting some cash on the counter before he stood up and you bit inside your cheek, clearing your throat.

“Sure. See you around.”

He held your gaze in his, then nodded and walked to the door while Hayes looked over his shoulder.

“Who was that?”

You paused only for a moment.

“Theo’s teacher,” you said, painfully aware that he could hear you and that made Logan stop by the door for a second before he walked out of the diner. You tried to ignore the pang in your chest and turned to Hayes, willing a smile on your face.

“I’m glad you dropped by, unannounced or not,” you told him. “So what’s up?”

14 - Shelter

[covenofagatha]

Going up

A morning of working Agatha up ends in an elevator

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: GP Agatha, cumming in pants, blowjob, slight handjob, public (no sex though), oral, light edging

A/N: I don't even know if this is good or not lol but I had the idea and couldn't get it out of my head so hopefully people enjoy it

Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn

When you wake up on Saturday morning, your first thought is: no work today! This week has been especially rough, the end of the fiscal quarter upon you, and your boss has been working you and the rest of the company to the bone. 

Your head lolls back on the pillow, tilting slightly to your left, where you see said boss sleeping next to you and a smirk spreads over your face. 

Her hair is fanned out across the pillowcase, the creases on her forehead that you’re used to seeing at work not as evident. She looks peaceful, more relaxed than she ever does awake, and it does something to your chest. 

Agatha Harkness is the Chief Operating Officer for the largest law firm in New York City. She runs a no-nonsense ship, barking out orders to everyone and anyone regardless of who you are. There’s rumors that she’s made interns pee themselves with just a single look. 

It’s no secret that she’s tightly wound and, without a doubt, a piece of work. The running joke between some of the attorneys was that she really needed to get laid. 

And while you found that incredibly sexist, that’s where you came in. 

For some reason, Agatha had always had a soft spot for you, one of the top Senior Associate attorneys for the company. Whereas when everyone else turned in reports and whatnot and got a mere eyebrow raise, she actually smiled at you. 

You were certain it was just a fluke that kept happening over and over again, but one night in her corner office, the two of you were tirelessly working on a lawsuit for a tech company and you had taken off your blazer. The air conditioning had broken, and you were working up a sweat.  

She was sitting adjacent to you on the couch, and you can still remember her swallowing hard when you undid the top two buttons of your silk blouse. She shifted, hands dropping to her lap uncomfortably, but you didn’t think much of it. 

And then you had decided that writing on paper against a book in your lap was too hard, so you had slunk off the couch onto your knees to use the coffee table as a better surface and Agatha had groaned. 

You had looked up in concern to find her fingers digging into her thighs so tightly her knuckles were white and you could see a faint tent in her pants. 

“Do you need some help with that?” You had asked, eyes wide and feeling like you were in a dream. Of course you had a crush on Agatha, she was powerful and bossy and the hottest woman you’d ever seen, but you had been convinced she would never even think of you as anything more than a subordinate. 

It was stupid to offer, she was probably going to report you to HR the next day, but she had made a small sound and gave an affirmative jerk of her head, and the next thing you knew, she had pulled out her cock and you were sucking her off right there in her office. 

Turns out, the other attorneys had been right. 

Agatha was in a much better mood the next day, actually saying thank you to the intern who brought her morning coffee instead of ignoring him completely. 

That night three months ago was the start of a mutual coworkers-with-benefits relationship, if you could call it that. You had brought it up to Agatha one time and she had snorted before fondly telling you to go bother someone else. 

With the end of the quarter coming up though, there had been a lot more late nights, including last night, when Agatha had stopped you from getting into your car after working until ten pm and dragged you into her company car, her mouth on yours before the partition between the backseat and the driver had gotten all the way up. 

The two of you had fucked for close to an hour when you had gotten back to Agatha’s penthouse apartment and promptly passed out. 

And you’re hoping more than anything that today, a planned day off, is full of more of Agatha’s cock inside you. 

Your boss stirs next to you, exhaling heavily, and when she presses her hips against you, you can feel her half-hardened length. It instantly sends a thrill straight to your stomach and you slowly inch down the covers to reveal your still-naked bodies. 

You reach out your hand and run your thumb over her nipple, watching it pebble quickly, and then skim your fingertips down the smooth skin of her back, a trail of goosebumps following. She’s laying on her side facing you so you’re able to watch her eyebrows knit together slightly. Your hand reaches her hip and then slides down and you’re about to touch her cock when she suddenly grabs your wrist. 

It makes you jump. Agatha’s blue eyes flutter open to meet your surprised ones. 

“What are you doing, babygirl?” She rasps, voice still hoarse with sleep, and it makes you shudder. 

“I thought I’d help you out with your problem,” you tease. 

Agatha hums thoughtfully, letting go of your hand and stroking her cock. You watch with rapt fascination as it hardens fully under her touch and you have to squeeze your thighs together to try and satiate the burning feeling in your stomach. “I think that’s only fair,” she decides. “seeing as it’s your fault I’m turned on.” 

You grin and maneuver her onto her back and straddle her thighs, bending over her to suck her nipple into your mouth. She makes a muffled sound and her hips jerk up, her now-leaking cock brushing against your stomach. You tease her for a minute or two before kissing down her stomach and you scrape your teeth against her hip bone. 

By the time you get to her cock, she’s already thrusting gently against nothing for stimulation, red, hard, and messy and when you run your tongue up the length while holding eye contact, she lets out a loud moan and her hand flies to your hair. You trace the vein on the side until she’s practically whimpering, legs shaking beneath you, and then you take the tip into your mouth and suck. 

Agatha keens and her back arches off the bed. “Fuck,” she mumbles. “God, babygirl, your mouth feels so good.” 

You move your head down her cock and you feel her pulse in your mouth and her hips jump, shoving herself further into your throat. You gag and she groans and you start to move faster, Agatha throbbing inside your mouth and –

– her phone rings. 

Agatha swears and scrambles to answer it, barking out a “What?” right as you swallow around her cock. She fixes you with a warning glare as you laugh, the vibrations forcing her to clamp a hand over her mouth. 

You hold her stare and take the whole thing into your mouth, rubbing your tongue against her and her head falls back onto the pillow. It’s getting harder for her to stay quiet, especially with you bobbing up and down her cock and she eventually has to pull you off her before she inevitably cums into your mouth while on the phone. 

So you just watch her, licking your lips and taking a moment to breathe. She’s getting more and more pissed by the minute, eyes becoming dark and angry, a frown etching onto her face, and you can hear the other person saying something about a contract and a multi-million dollar deal and how the company could be fucked without it, and when Agatha’s erection slowly softens, you know what it means. 

She hangs up the phone and your head falls onto her stomach dramatically. “Do we have to?” You groan and Agatha huffs out a sigh. 

“Stark Industries might be pulling out unless we amend some of the clauses in that contract. We need to go in,” she says. 

“Can I at least finish you off first?” You offer and her cock twitches at the thought. 

Agatha chews on her lip like she’s seriously considering it, but then pats your cheek. “Maybe later, babygirl.” 

You roll your eyes and flop onto the bed and she chuckles as she gets up and pulls some clothes out of her drawer. She puts on a navy blue suit and tosses an outfit at you, a black pencil skirt and white blouse. 

“Let’s go,” she orders, never out of boss mode for too long. You petulantly make your movements as slow as possible until she threatens to spank you for it later, and although it doesn’t really seem like it’d be much of a punishment, you hurry up. 

She grabs two apples from her fridge, hands one to you, and calls her car. The driver is waiting right outside when you get down to the lobby and you slide in after her. 

“You know what I’d rather be doing?” You ask conversationally after leaning forward to press the button for the partition to go up. 

Agatha’s scrolling on her phone and hums in acknowledgement. 

“Sucking your cock,” you answer and Agatha stiffens. “I love the taste of you, love how you lose composure for me, love how it feels when you cum in my mouth.” 

She’s biting her lip now and you can see the outline of her rapidly hardening cock in her pants. You reach out and put your hand on the bulge and she grits her teeth, still turned on from earlier. 

“Honey,” she warns through a clenched jaw. “Don’t.”

But you don’t listen. You slowly start to move your fingers, stroking up and down and feeling her throb in her pants. She swallows roughly and she’s getting harder, a flush settling into her cheeks and neck. 

You lean in and flick your tongue against her earlobe and she shivers. 

“Don’t let this think you’re in charge,” she says tightly. “You just wait until we get back to my apartment. I’ll remind you.” 

You laugh. “Really? Cause it feels like I’m holding a lot of the power right now.” And to emphasize your point, you give her cock a tight squeeze, immensely enjoying the way she groans. 

“You’re going to be on your knees,” she says in a low, gruff voice. It ignites your stomach. “My cock down your throat, and then I’m going to cum all over that pretty little face and you’re going to thank me for it.” 

The image securely mounts itself in your mind and you gasp. 

“And then, I’m going to fuck you into the mattress until you can’t remember your name and all you’re going to feel is my cock deep inside you,” she continues and you can feel your mind going foggy. Your hand has stopped moving, but you can feel just how much the thought is affecting her, too. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, your underwear practically sticking to you. Agatha smirks triumphantly, now both of you overwhelmingly turned on, but the joke is on both of you when the driver pulls up in front of the office building. 

You both groan and reluctantly get out of the car, despite you asking Agatha for five more minutes. The cold air in the lobby does little to quell the heat in your stomach and you drag your feet on the way to the elevator. 

Much to your surprise, there’s quite a lot of other employees working on this Saturday, most of them not from your law firm, so when the doors open and everyone steps on, all different numbers are pressed. 

With fifty-five floors, it’s one of the taller skyscrapers in the area, and the executives of the law firm are on the top. There’s at least twenty other stops on the elevator ride and you roll your eyes and follow Agatha straight to the back corner, turning around so your back is facing her. 

You go up one floor and the doors ding. Five more people get in and you’re practically on top of Agatha now with how packed it is. You move your body sideways to make more room, your hip knocking against Agatha. 

“Sorry,” you murmur and she makes a small sound, hand coming up to ruffle her hair. You pull out your phone and you’re scrolling through emails, clicking on one from one of the paralegals asking for advice about a case they’re working on and typing out a quick response, when you hear Agatha sharply inhale. 

And then you feel it. 

You had thought that once you’d gotten out of the car and you were no longer directly and purposely touching her, she would calm down. 

That is clearly not the case. 

This is the hardest she’s been all morning. 

You try and catch her eye, which takes longer than it should because of how hard she’s trying not to look at you. 

Really? You mouth when she finally gives in. 

Agatha turns uncharacteristically red and you feel your body flush. You had no idea you could affect her this much and it’s seriously turning you on. 

She tries to turn her hips away but there’s no room so your boss has no choice other than to keep her throbbing cock pressed against you. 

The elevator dings at the eighth floor. One person gets out. You tilt your head up at Agatha and find a slight sheen of sweat on her cheeks and glassy eyes. She’s staring straight ahead, lips pursed tightly together, looking like she’s in sweet, agonizing pain. 

How much stimulation is she getting right now? You’re not moving, she’s not moving, and yet she sometimes doesn’t even look like this when she’s inside you. 

Should you be offended? You decide to not be, based on what you’ve put her through this morning. 

Eleventh floor. Three people get off and she sucks in a deep breath when you can finally step away from her. Your eyes flicker down to the very visible tent in her pants and you clench your thighs together. She watches you and you swear you can see her cock throb through the navy fabric of her pants. 

Twentieth floor. More people get in and you’re pushed back against her. She lets out a small gasp and you gently lay your fingers on her wrist. 

Agatha shudders and you can feel your wetness on your inner thighs. You might have to go to the bathroom when you get out of the elevator and take care of yourself. 

Not like you would last more than three minutes right now. 

Your boss is now fully staring at you, barely any blue left in her eyes, a look you’ve never seen before on her face. 

It’s thrilling. 

Thirty-third floor. More people file out, muttering excuse me and sorry as they wade through the crowd. 

Now there’s more room in the elevator, enough room where you could step away from Agatha and give yourselves both some breathing room. 

You don’t move. 

Agatha is taking deep, slow breaths, her cheeks surely burning to the touch right now, and at least she’s wearing a dark color to hide the stain she is assuredly going to have on her pants. 

Babygirl, she mouths pleadingly when you finally look at her again and you have to stifle a moan at how needy she looks right now. 

And what kind of person would you be if you didn’t help her out? 

You’ve been standing perpendicular to her, your hip and side of your right leg pressed against her body. 

Fiftieth floor. 

Mostly everyone has cleared out by now. 

You slowly turn your body to face the doors, making sure to carefully drag your ass against her, and her hand grips onto your arm with a vice-like grip from behind you. 

She twitches and pulses and then throbs, and you can feel warmth spread on the back of your – her skirt as she cums in her pants, ever-so-slightly rutting against you. Agatha lets out a muffled groan, followed by a cough for show; there’s still three other people in the elevator. 

The elevator dings on the fifty-fifth floor and Agatha takes a shaky breath as the two of you exit. You feel like you’re burning up and each step you take reminds you of how much of a mess you’ve become. 

“You okay?” You murmur as you walk down aisles of cubicles. 

Agatha weakly laughs. “Next time I’ll just let you finish sucking me off before coming to work.” 

The thought makes you smirk and she opens the door to her office, holding it for you. She walks around her desk and pulls out a pair of underwear and pants for herself (you’ve both started having to keep extra clothes for times like these) and she beckons you into the private bathroom attached. 

You eagerly follow, and you’re even more thrilled when she slams you against the wall and sinks to her knees. Her hooded eyes look up at you as she pushes up the skirt you’re wearing and your head drops back with a gasp escaping from your lips when her mouth sucks on your pussy through your panties. 

Agatha quickly moves them to the side, having enough of her own teasing, and buries her tongue inside you and it pulls an obscene moan from deep in your chest. 

It feels so fucking good and you’re already on the edge from getting Agatha all worked up this morning. She chuckles at how wet you are, how you’re already getting her face soaked, and she swirls her tongue around your clit and your hips roll, chasing more. 

She brings you right to your orgasm – it’s almost embarrassing how quickly it happens – and you’re shaking, trembling, begging, but she stops. 

“No, Agatha, please,” you whine, hand in her hair and trying to push her back against you, but she stands back up and licks her lips. The bottom half of her face is glistening, shiny with your wetness in the harsh light of the bathroom. 

She pouts mocking and makes quick work of turning around and changing her clothes while you frantically start to rub yourself with your own fingers. You’re so close–

“Uh uh,” she tuts, catching your eye in the mirror. You almost sob and she whirls back around to suck your fingers into her mouth. They slip out with a pop! “You got me all worked up until I came in my pants like a fucking teenager, babygirl. You think I’m going to let that slide? You think you’re in charge? Well, now I’m going to get you all worked up and you will not be cumming until we’re back in my apartment, got it?” 

All you can do is whimper and the grin she gives you is wicked. With one pat to your cheek, she pushes you out of the bathroom just in time for one of the attorneys, Alice Wu, to come into her office. 

Agatha slides into her chair while you awkwardly stand next to her desk while Alice lays a contract on it. 

You can’t even pretend to be paying attention, still focused on the orgasm you were just denied and how maybe if you just press your legs together really hard–

Agatha says your name. Probably not the first time she’s said it, judging by her annoyed tone, but when you look at her, she winks, like she knows exactly what you’re thinking. 

You roll your eyes, step closer so you’re next to Agatha, and lean over so you can see what Alice is talking about. You have to repress a gasp when you feel your boss’s hand tracing up the back of your thigh through your skirt, just low enough so no one can see. 

Agatha watches you carefully out of her peripheral vision, the corners of her mouth tugging up in a smirk. 

You are fucked.