#but now with the pets and their ~unique needs

[wizard-on-whales]

Little Bird

NSFW 17+

When a Viking clan ransacks your village and the leader kidnaps you to be his bride, you have no other choice than to accept

Warnings: violent descriptions, kidnapping, unprotected sex, mentions of scars, pet names

✭-----------------------------✭

All you could hear was screaming and the sound of steel on steel. You sat huddled in the corner of your small cottage with your mother and sister, your father standing at the door with a rusty blade in his hands. You had lived your whole life in a quiet village just off the coast. Several times you had heard rumors of Vikings raiding villages and killing and raping the women and children, even kidnapping and imprisoning them. But you never thought it could happen to your village. It was well known in the area for being the poorest. People didn't need Vikings to kill them, sickness and starvation did that enough. There was nothing here for them but they came anyway.

The door burst open and in marched a large man in leather armor, a double head axe in his hands. Your father held up his sword which caused the viking to laugh. He easily disarmed your father before looking at the corner where you were huddled with the rest of your family.

“Ah…what do we have here?” The man chuckled, taking a step forward. Your father stepped between him and your family.

“No, please! They're all I have…don't hurt them.” Your father's voice trembled when he spoke. The large man's eyes landed on you once more.

“Do you think so little of me? We shall trade. I want that one for my wife and I'll leave the others alone,”The Viking laughs heartily at your father's fear before pushing him aside and stepping forward. He places his ax back into his belt and reaches a hand out for you. You stay cowering in your places, glancing from the man to your father, waiting. Your father just looks away.

“Don't be afraid little bird,” Said the Viking in a soft but gruff voice. He wastes no more time and leans down, grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder. You don't scream in fear of what the consequences might be, instead you just watch your family's faces as they all do nothing to stop the man from kidnapping you.

You look down and hide your face from the chaos outside your cottage; your village was in ruins; houses were burning, bodies lay dead in the mud, and the screams of the panicked and the roars of other Vikings mixed in a horrible melody. You were carried far away to the coast and onto the large ship which was uniquely decorated. The Viking carried you into a separate cabin, placing you down on a bed of soft, luxurious furs.

“You are safe,” he said, locking the door and tossing his belt of weapons onto the desk. He unties the leather armor he wore and tosses it and his tunic to the floor, revealing his toned but scar-filled chest. He turns towards you and takes a step, causing you to cower further onto the bed.

“Don't worry, I won't touch thou until ready,” He says softly, sitting on the furs next to you, his finger tracing your jaw and playing with your hair.

“Pretty little thing you are. In all my travels I've never seen such beauty, especially not in a poor little village as such. Fair maidens of the royal islands could never compete with thee. We'll have you adorned in the finest Viking jewels and cloth we can spare, My Little Bird.”

Over the months you became accustomed to life at sea and the rugged men and women of the clan that surrounded you. You quickly learned that the man who had stolen you away was the leader, they called him their king, and now you, his queen. And in the months, he kept his promise to not throw himself on you in unholy ways and to adorn your frame with the most luxurious clothing and jewels.

By now, the man who had kidnapped you no longer scared you. His rough hands, which had killed many in cold blood, held you with the gentlest touch. His lips would kiss your cheek, and forehead, and hands with such affections you were often confused how it could be the same man who helped decimate your village.

Tonight was a celebration feast they would hold once every month on the full moon. They'd find a place on land to set their cloth huts and build the biggest fires they could, chanting and yelling and dancing as they pleased, filling their stomachs with the finest meats and cheeses, and fruits and nuts they had gathered from their most recent pillages.

You sat at the head of it all with your husband by your side in ornately carved wooden thrones. In your hands was a goblet filled with wine and the ripest, sweetest plum James could have possibly picked for you. He sat on his own throne, drinking straight from a bottle of some other strong alcohol, gnawing on the thigh bone of a turkey.

“My little bird, how is thy meal? Sweetest drink and sweetest fruit for thine sweet woman,” He laughed heartily, grinning at you, his mouth full of the food he was eating.

“Very sweet, very lovely, my dear king,” You smile softly, nodding your head and taking another small swig of your wine.

“Pleased and satisfied, are you?” He smiled happily, tossing his bone to the side and setting his whiskey down. He stood and held his hand out for you to take. You knew exactly what he wanted as he had done so many times before. He wanted to dance. You set your own cup down and grab his hand, letting him drag you toward one of the large fires and frolic around it, hand in hand. Tonight his hair was uniquely braided, little gold cusps decorated them, a few colored fabrics weaved in, shining brightly against his golden locks. The tunic he wore was one you had crafted for him, sewing and embroidering dark blue threads in swirls across the light blue fabric to match his eyes. He wore a thick leather belt, which would normally hold his weapons for him, but tonight it held nothing but the small pouch on the side which he had slipped a handful of nuts into.

Your dress was a long green fabric that draped your frame elegantly, cinched at the waist with your own belt. The fancy golden bracelets jangled on your wrists with every move as you danced around the fire with James. Your own hair was down, a few small braids mixed in, matching cuffs adorning them to signify your marriage to the man. James steps out of the circle of dancers, dragging you with him. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him, looking down at you with the grin that you have grown to love.

“Come, my sweet one. The celebrations will last all night but you need your beauty sleep, you are looking worn. Did that wine make you sleepy?” He speaks softly, pulling you along through the crowds of the clan and to your hut. You step through the heavy drapery at the entrance and into the hut. James moves to help you take your necklaces off while you slip your many bracelets off. The loud and rowdy celebrations could still be heard a short distance away. The fires outside shone through the thin hide fabric of the hut and illuminated it as needed, casting an orange glow over the two of you.

“James…” You break the quiet between you, turning to face him. He tenderly brushes your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Yes, My Little Bird?” He questions softly, moving his hand to your waist. You look down and take his wrist in your hands, fiddling with the leather cuff before taking it off and placing it aside.

“Will you make love to me tonight,” You ask quietly, looking up at him. You could feel his hand flex in yours, his face full of a gaze you weren't quite sure of.

“My sweet sweet bird…how could I ever deny such a request?” He smiles down at you, pulling you flush against him and leaning down to place a kiss against your lips. His hands fiddled with the silver clasps of your belt and undid them, letting it fall to the ground. You reach for his, undoing it and letting it join yours. He pulls away from the kiss to study you for a moment before he grabs the hem of his tunic and tosses it to the side.

In the months you had lived under the same dwellings with him and the many nights sharing the same furs, you still blushed heavily at the sight of his bare chest. The scars that adorned it gave his rough and rugged exterior more appeal to his character. The dark and thick, but soft hairs that scattered across his skin made him look wolfish. Maybe that's why he wore that necklace you thought, your eyes gazing upon the wolf pendant at his bosom. His hands reached to it to undo the clasp but you stopped him.

“Keep it on…” You say softly, feeling more flushed as he grins down at you wickedly. His finger strokes your cheek once more before he grabs your arms and backs you toward the cot you shared. He turns you around, pressing his chest to your back as he swips your hair over one shoulder. His lips graze the bare, exposed skin of your neck, placing soft kisses up it to your ear. His hands start to slowly unlace your dress and loosen the fabric that covers you.

“Little Bird…are you sure?” He asks in your ear, his gruff voice a whisper. You look at him over your shoulder, cheeks pink and a deep need behind your eyes.

“I'm sure…I'm ready,” You say, turning in his arms and letting the loose fabric of your dress fall down your shoulders and to the ground, exposing your body fully to him in all of its feminine divinity. Your soft curves had plumped up through the months now that you no longer had to scrounge for bread scraps. Your thick, long hair framed your face and draped down to your breasts, the only coverage they had from the eyes which were staring at you so fiercely, you thought they might start to burn your skin. James moves his hand tenderly up the side of your smooth skin before slowly pushing your hair out of the way, tucking it behind your ear.

“Pretty bird,” He growls, leaning down to roughly kiss you, his hands pulling you flush against him once more. The thin fabric of his trousers exposed his excitement as it pressed against you in need. You plant your hands firmly on his solid chest, kissing him back with the same desperate need. He pushes you back onto the cot and hovers over you, his lips moving down your skin until they meet the valley of your breasts. He moves your hands from his chest and places them on his broad shoulders before he starts to lick and nip the sensitive skin. You squeeze him lightly as you feel your heart leap to your throat, the feeling of his lips on you and his thick beard tickling your soft flesh was exhilarating; More so than all the exotic celebrations and fine things you had become accustomed to; None of those could compare to the feeling of his touch.

He moves his kisses lower and lower until his face is between your legs, his eyes directly in the sight of your glistening cunt. His eyes flicker up to yours, seeing you staring down at him with a wide expression. He grins up at you, his hands gripping your thighs and pulling you even closer as he leaves a love bite on the soft flesh of them.

“Please, my lion…don't make me wait,” You tell him softly, giving his shoulders another squeeze, hoping to encourage him. He smiles once more before leaning down and placing a kiss against your sensitive bud. A shiver runs through you making him press his face further between your legs, licking and sucking away at your sex like a starved man. You moan his name and trap him between your plush thighs as they start to tremble from his touch.

A finger joins his mouth as he pushes it into you, feeling your tight velvet walls clench around it in need, sucking it in further. He moves his finger slowly in and out of you almost tauntingly; feeling your slick coat it and your tight cunt loosening around it.

“You're like the sweetest fruit, My Darling,” James says in a gruff voice as he moves his face away from your pussy, his beard wet with your juices. Slowly, another finger joins the first, stretching you further, causing you to moan. You could feel them curling, pressing just right , and making your mind melt with pleasure.

“Oh…James! I won't last long,” You tell him through heavy breaths, watching his hand and his forearm flex.

“You'll last all night, Little bird. We'll be here till the red skies appear,” He growls, smirking down at you and moving his fingers faster, his tongue going back to tasting you. You squish him between your tights once more, moaning out his name. It doesn't take long like this until you've reached your first orgasm, your walls fluttering around his fingers and your body trembling slightly under him. He removes his fingers before slowly hovering over you, placing another kiss against your sweet lips. The taste of yourself on them was exhilarating and more arousing than you thought.

He slowly stands from the cot and reaches down to untie his trousers, letting them drop to the floor, and kicking them to the side. The sight of him was unbelievable, the sheer size of his thick and throbbing cock made you believe he was about to split you in half like a twig under an axe.

“Don't be scared, My Sweet Bird. I promised I would never hurt you,” He says softly, sensing your anxiety and cupping your cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb. He leans down to kiss you slowly, resting his body weight over top of you, his hot, naked skin sticking to your own.

“I trust you won't,” You reply quietly, letting your lips dance delicately against his. His calloused fingertips drag down your side once more until it reaches your thigh. He wraps it around his waist, pulling his lips away to look you in the eyes as he slowly pushed himself into you, stretching your walls.

There was a painful sting making you moan quietly and a small grimace passed over your features. He gives you a few moments to adjust, placing small kisses against your cheek and neck before continuing to slowly slide into you. The further he went the more you could feel every inch of his girthy length filling you to the brim.

At first his movements were slow, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity you had never seen, determined to make sure he wasn't hurting you. You could feel him buried deep in you, his tip dragging slowly against your walls, torturing you in the most pleasant ways possible. When he was sure you were ready he wasted no time, picking up his pace almost ruthlessly.

“Oh! James!” You squeal, your hands gripping his arms tightly, holding yourself in place so that he didn't fuck you right off the cot. James was sure your moans were the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. He watched you with an intense, animalistic gaze.

“Fuck…I'll have you singing all night, Sweet Bird,” He growled sitting up on his knees and grabbing your hips tightly, pistoning into you with a speedy rhythm. Your eyes practically roll back into your head as you feel him all the way in your stomach, stretching you deliciously. Your trembling legs felt like jelly as they fell further open for him, letting him even deeper into you. With each thrust, you could feel his muscles flexing under your touch, the clips on his hair jingling softly as they clinked together.

The celebrations still went on outside but all you could hear was the soft grunts from James. He moved his hands from your waist and placed them by your head, leaning down to trap you under him. Your hands made their way to his back, your fingernails digging into the thick skin.

“Your mine, all mine, birdie. Just hold onto me…” He groaned softly into your ear. You squeeze your eyes shut and moan out his name once more, heat pooling in your abdomen. Suddenly he stopped his movements and rested his forehead against yours.

“Look at me.” He demanded quietly. You open your eyes to meet his gaze, his soft blue eyes watching you closely. He slowly started his movements again, this time slow and sensual. You thought you noticed him trembling lightly, but maybe it was just your own body. You place your hands on his cheeks, keeping your gaze with his.

“My pretty bird,” He groans, he thrusts himself all the way into you before he just starts slowly grinding his hips, rutting against you.

“Oh…my lion,”You moan softly, the anticipation of your orgasm starting to fill you. There was something so intense and sensual about the look on his eyes that was almost enough to send you over the edge. His lips met yours softly and that was enough, you held onto him tightly as a wave of pleasure washed over you again, your body shaking under him.

“That's it, so good…so good for me,” He mumbles against your lips. He grinds against you for a few more moments before he lets out a deep groan. You let out a breath and your head falls further back against the pillow, your eyes opening to look at him, his face contorted with pleasure as he fills you up with his cum. He opens his own and smiles, slowly removing himself from your walls and falling onto the cot next to you, pulling you against his sturdy chest. He places a soft kiss against your forehead and pulls a blanket over your bare skin. His heavy hand finds your hip and rubs it gently.

“Sleep well, my little bird,” He mumbles softly as he watches your eyes flutter closed

✭-----------------------------✭

This has been in unfinished in my drafts for FOREVER. about time I tried to finish it 😿

[un-awarewolf]

If I get any replies/DM's from the anti-grain free/science diet/Purina/Royal Canin stans due to the tags on the last post, I'm just going to block them right away. It doesn't matter if I can debate every excuse they try to provide as to why I'm "wrong". If you want to feed your pet something that is full of corn, soy, wheat and other fillers; be my guest. It's your animal, you can decide how to feed it. But let's not scare people away from feeding their animals a biologically appropriate/minimally processed diet. As long as people are following basic raw meat handling protocols, and washing their hands regularly after interacting with Any animal, your pet is Not at a higher risk of getting sick VS if they were fed a kibble. 1 in 3 cats will get kidney disease in their life due to a lack of moisture in their diet no matter what brand of kibble you feed. If you're not rehydrating your cats food, or providing them with wet food alongside it, it doesn't matter if you're feeding a special prescription kidney kibble. They're still going to struggle with kidney issues and be chronically dehydrated.

[maxsus]

First Look:Dogtown |Sims4CC|

Add variety and comfort to the lives of your four-legged friends with the “Dog town” set of five unique dog houses, each designed in its own style!

From a cheap plastic house to adorable beach house

Choose what is perfect for your furry friend. This compact set is designed to ensure that every pet finds the perfect place to relax.

!for correct work you need to have "cats and dogs" expansion pack!

This set is now available on Early Access.

JOIN

Follow me on |Instagram|X|Tumblr|CurseForge|Bluesky|

[smileysuh]

daylighter

🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo & Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. Nothing in your life has ever been as sexy as this moment. Two strong men, one begging and whining while the other dominates. You, caught between them both, the source of their torment and their pleasure. They’re opposites, in temperament as well as being, after all, werewolves and vampires have historically never gotten along- but they agree about you, and right now, that’s all that matters. 

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, threesome, foreplay, fingering, squirting, pussy eating, sadism, breast worship, Eiffel tower, blow job (m receiving), hand job, praise, dirty talk, degradation, power imbalances, dom!Wonwoo, Switch!Gyu, masturbation, sloppy Gyu, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.3k

🍭 aus.  Supernatural au, werewolf!Gyu, Vampire!Wonwoo, 

☀️ mlist + an. And with that, 2024 is complete :) I wanted to end it with a bang, and this pairing has been a staple on my blog for years now. Thank you to everyone who has supported me this year in any capacity, and happy holidays!

Prologue: 

“The ascension is in a year,” the crone sighs, looking out at the room of gathered witches and allies. “I think we all agree that the timing of Seungcheol’s departure is less than ideal, especially now that we’ve narrowed down an ancestral safehouse with adequate warding.”

You frown, and your vampire protector immediately reaches out to hold your hand, giving you a reassuring squeeze. 

As the future head of your coven, you have a protection detail, and Seungcheol has been an anchor in your life since you were eighteen. It had been a daring attempt at protecting you, after all, alphas like Seungcheol can’t just leave their packs to take on a witch princess as their ward, but Seungcheol had given up a lot to ensure your safety. 

Now, he’s returning to his pack, to his own world, and you’re not quite sure where to go from here.

“There is, however, a replacement,” the crone continues. “A beta by the name of Kim Mingyu. He is, supposedly, a prodigy. He’s the size of an alpha, with domestic attributes that make him uniquely qualified for the assignment of protecting our future leader. Seungcheol offered Mingyu up personally when he found out we would be relocating y/n to a compound. The alpha believed, and I agree with him, that, by having Mingyu on location, it would reduce the need for extra staff to deal with cooking and maintenance. By all accounts, this beta, Mingyu, and our loyal vampire protector, Wonwoo, should be able to look after y/n completely independently, which would lower the risk of demonic attack through spies.”

Wonwoo shifts beside you, and you know the stoic man well enough to understand that small movements like this are a sign of irritation.

While Wonwoo and the wolves who’ve been a part of your protection detail in the past have all had blood ties to you, the vampire has made it clear he’s never been fond of working with ‘dogs.’

But as skilled as Wonwoo is, there’s one thing he simply can’t defeat, and that’s the sun. You’re the most protected witch in the world by night, but by day, you need a different line of defence, and that’s always been the job of wolves.

There was a vampire, once, who took care of a member of your family line during the day. An ancestor of yours had done the impossible, she’d created a ‘Daylighter Potion’ that could enable vampires to walk in the sun. That forbidden knowledge had incurred the wrath of demons. Your ancestor, as well as her daywalking companion, had been lost to a bloody history, and with them, the recipe for this transformation process.

There are still hopes of recreating the Daylighter Potion, but until then, this Kim Mingyu is necessary. You can only pray he’s cut from the same cloth as your exiting alpha.   

One: 

The wards are definitely strong, something Mingyu realizes as he approaches the large compound house he’ll be protecting you in from now on. The location is also super secluded, with the nearest town over an hour away.

If you’re looking to protect someone, this is definitely the place to do it, and when Wonwoo opens the door to the large home, Mingyu realizes immediately that the stoic vampire is as formidable as Seungcheol had made him out to be.

Power oozes off the immortal being, and Mingyu, despite his size, suddenly feels quite small.

“Hi,” Mingyu says, forcing a smile and an extended hand, “I’m Mingyu.”

“You’re late,” Wonwoo responds, pushing the door open and turning to walk away, clearly expecting Mingyu to follow.

“Yeah, I uh, got turned around on the roads. My GPS shit itself.”

Wonwoo remains quiet, and Mingyu hurries to keep up with him. 

“I’ll give you a tour, then you’ll go meet y/n,” Wonwoo sighs, and thus, the exploration of the house begins.

Mingyu does his best to be quiet, to take in the information. Wonwoo seems like the type to only say something once, and Mingyu doesn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with him.

Seungcheol had also warned Mingyu about the vampire’s general hatred for werewolves, so Mingyu knows this isn’t a friendship or working relationship that will be earned overnight.

“Can I uh, ask a few questions?” Mingyu enquires as the tour comes close to an end.

“If they’re not stupid.”

Mingyu forces a laugh, but it’s clear from the vampire’s expression that he had been serious, so the chuckle dies down quickly. “Why only two guards?”

“The location is remote enough to be quite secure, as is the warding,” Wonwoo responds smoothly. “Think of this house like the Pentagon, no outside entity has ever breached it.”

“And the demons who are after y/n, it’s because she’s set to be the next crone?”

“In part,” Wonwoo sighs, folding his arms over his chest. “She’s very powerful, and there are certain potions that only she can produce, potions that were lost.”

“What kind of potions?” Witches are known for their tonics, sure, but Mingyu’s never assumed potions to be the most interesting aspect of being a spell caster.

“Old ones,” Wonwoo states, signaling the end of the line of questioning. He begins to walk again, and Mingyu follows, biting his tongue as his mind runs a million miles an hour.

Mingyu can smell the greenhouse solarium before he’s even entered it. The scent of fresh herbs, flowers and general greenery is delightful in comparison to the mustiness of everything else in the old mansion, and Mingyu takes a deep breath as he enters the space.

It’s dark out, but the room is illuminated with fairy lights, their reflections twinkling in all of the windows. It had begun to rain just as Mingyu had pulled up with his truck, and the soft pattering of water on glass is more soothing than the wolf had expected. 

“Y/N,” Wonwoo says, drawing your attention from where you’re seated on a couch, pouring over old books. “This is Mingyu.”

You look up, and Mingyu’s immediately struck by your beauty. The final thing Seungcheol had warned him about was your looks, but his description of you hadn’t done your features justice. There’s a power in your eyes, but a softness in everything else. You’re not some old crone, not by a long shot. 

Mingyu’s alpha had told Mingyu that the vampire guarding you has somewhat of an interest in you, an interest that goes beyond that of protector. Seungcheol had figured that if you, a powerful witch, were going to favour someone, it would be better if it was a wolf than a blood sucker- but even if he hadn’t told Mingyu to get close to you, one look at your lovely smile as you stand to greet him is enough to make Mingyu want to know you better.

“How was the drive?” you ask, pushing your book to the side and stretching.

Your cardigan falls slightly off your shoulder, and God, Mingyu’s eyes take in your newly exposed skin like a man dying of hydration takes in water. He swallows the lump in his throat-

“The dog got lost,” Wonwoo responds before Mingyu gets the chance to.

You laugh. “That happens around here,” you assure him, “you’re definitely not the first.”

“It’s uh, a nice house,” Mingyu offers.

“It belonged to an ancestor,” you say smoothly, “so did these books.”

The werewolf smiles. “Looking for family recipes?” 

“Something like that.” 

Oh, so you’re potentially as secretive as Wonwoo is. What could you possibly be looking for in all these dusty old books that you don’t want to tell him about?

“You must be tired from your drive,” Wonwoo states, turning to Mingyu. “You should go to your room and rest, I’ll take care of y/n now, and when the sun rises, I’ll come get you for your first shift.”

Two: 

You wake up slowly, yawning as you stretch. Your motion knocks a book off your bed and you groan. You’d fallen asleep late in the early morning hours, pouring over books with Wonwoo beside you. Your vampire guard is nowhere to be seen, but there’s a knock on your door and a moment later, Mingyu is poking his head inside.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, just dropped a book,” you respond, leaning over your bed to pick up the diary.

“What were you reading?”

“An ancestor’s journal,” you groan, still trying to shake away your morning grogginess. 

“Any hot gossip from the middle ages?” the werewolf jokes with a boyish grin.

“Nothing too interesting,” you grin. “Give me a sec to get dressed, then we’re going to go for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“In the forest, I need some mushrooms that aren’t growing in the solarium.”

With a nod, the werewolf goes back to his post outside your door. You take your time getting ready, even going so far as to brush your teeth. Werewolves have sensitive noses, and the last thing you’d want is for some hot beta to smell your morning breath.

Half an hour later, you and Mingyu are walking through the woods.

You’d written a list of various mushrooms and plants you’d need from your readings last night, and Mingyu is holding your basket as the two of you scour the trees and forest floor for potion ingredients.

You notice that Mingyu is quite twitchy. Every sound, every bird flying overhead, draws his eyes.

“We’re quite safe here, you know,” you laugh, thinking his behaviour is adorable.

“Can’t let anything happen to you,” the werewolf muses.

“You sound like Wonwoo.”

“Has he been protecting you for long?”

“Since I was eighteen,” you nod, bending down to collect some moss. 

“You two must be close.”

“We are.” Your relationship with Wonwoo isn’t something you spend a lot of time dwelling on. He’s your guard, and you’re pretty sure that’s all you are to him, a precious witch he needs to protect due to vampire blood pacts.

You care about him, sure, but Wonwoo’s never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, so you’re okay with it being a one sided affection.

“Anyways,” Mingyu sighs, reading your cues and changing the subject, “what potion are you going to make?”

“There are a few I want to try, old things from the texts.”

“Anything interesting?”

“I found a perplexing potion for dog smells, not that I’m saying you smell, but I know Wonwoo always hated Seungcheol’s scent. I figured he might not look so sour whenever you’re around if you smelt better.”

To your surprise, the werewolf laughs. “So you’re making me cologne from moss and mushrooms?”

“Something like that,” you smile.

“Wonwoo was being secretive last night about the potions you make, I figured maybe there was some, I don’t know, super love spell or something crazy that you’d be creating.”

“No super love spells, I don’t believe in those,” you admit. “There are old potions in the texts on the property, things that were lost, for one reason or another. My brewing skills are a little rusty so I figured I’d start with the more mundane recipes before I try anything too extreme.”

“How extreme are we talking?” Mingyu asks. You cast him a sideways glance and he holds up a hand. “I don’t mean to pry, I just… I don’t think I’ve ever met a witch before, I don’t know much about what you guys do with those big pots and stuff.”

“Cauldrons,” you correct him, your body relaxing again. You take a deep breath. “Mingyu?”

“Yeah?”

“I can trust you, right?”

“A hundred percent,” he nods, an ernest expression on his face.

You stand up from your moss patch, moving to set some in Mingyu’s basket. “There’s a specific potion I want to make, and I think the recipe might be somewhere in the old books here.” 

“What kind of potion?”

You take another deep breath, trying to decide how to word your response. “Basically, my line has a strong tie to vampires, and we have this tie, because one of my ancestors made a potion. We call it the Daylighter potion, it enables vampires to walk in the sun.”

Mingyu’s jaw drops as he stares at you.

“Yeah, I know, it feels like fairytale, part of me isn’t sure it’s even a real recipe- but the vampires who swear to protect my family think it was real.”

“Does Wonwoo think it’s real?”

“Yes, it’s one of the reasons he’s protecting me. Could you imagine, being a vampire who could walk in the sun? He would be the most powerful vampire in the world.”

Mingyu frowns. “Is it a good idea? To make him more powerful, I mean.”

You contemplate the question for a moment. “Wonwoo has never been anything but good to me. Sure, there are repercussions for knowledge like the Daylighter potion recipe, I mean, my ancestor who created it went missing and was found dead months later-”

“Did she use it? On a vampire?”

You nod. “By all accounts, she used it on her own protector.”

“And did he… you know, did he kill her?”

You shake your head. “No, he was found dead with her. Besides, when vampires make blood ties to witches, they have a curse set on them, they can’t harm us, directly, or indirectly.”

“Sounds like a powerful curse,” Mingyu frowns. “Do uh… the werewolves that work with you have the same curse?”

“Do you need to be muzzled, Mingyu?” you grin. 

He shakes his head. “Definitely not.”

“Good.”

You continue your foraging, and Mingyu is quiet for a while before he begins asking questions again.

“So uh… do you just want to use this Daylighter potion in Wonwoo because he’s your protector, or…”

“Why are you so curious about my relationship with Wonwoo?” you counter. 

He shrugs, but it’s way too nonchalant of a motion to be believable. “No reason.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but decide to let it go. Mingyu may be eluding to things, but it’s his first day here, if he wants to speculate about your connection to Wonwoo, he can guess all he wants. He’ll see how things work around here soon enough. 

Three: 

Wonwoo is exiting his blacked out bedroom the moment the sun has set sufficiently for him to stalk around the old mansion.

He has a one track mind, and the vampire follows his senses to the dining room, where you and Mingyu are sitting to eat dinner.

It takes a moment for Wonwoo to survey the surrounding area. The smell of garlic and ginger is quite potent, and it appears that the wolf has made you some sort of ramen. “Wonwoo!” you grin excitedly, “Mingyu’s an amazing cook, I wish you could try this!”

The wolf’s heart skips a beat, and it irks Wonwoo, who simply scoffs and heads to the kitchen to grab his blood bag. He’s irritated when he’s hungry, and Wonwoo can feel himself calming down as he rejoins you in the dining room.

Wonwoo takes his seat next to you, mindful of the books strewn about. He picks one up, beginning to flip through it. “How was your day?” he asks you.

“It was good,” you respond casually. “We went for a walk, gathered some moss and mushrooms, I’ve got a potion brewing right now that I think you’re going to like.”

Wonwoo casts you a sideways glance, had you found the Daylighter recipe? 

“It’s like werewolf cologne,” Mingyu pipes up from the other side of the table. “Gonna make me not smell so bad.”

Wonwoo’s gaze shifts to Mingyu, and he feels irritation bubbling inside of himself again. Logically, it’s clear that the new wolf is trying to be friendly, and he’s taking steps to mask odor- but Wonwoo just can’t find any friendship in his heart for Mingyu.

He gets the sense that you and Mingyu have bonded today, and the way you’re eating up the ramen Mingyu made isn’t doing anything to help settle the uneasy feeling in Wonwoo’s stomach.

Seungcheol’s an alpha, and Wonwoo had respected him. Cheol had come with one goal, and one goal alone, to protect you. As an alpha, he had a whole life to go back to- but this beta, well, Wonwoo’s not too sure about how this ‘protection detail’ might pan out.

It’s clear Mingyu’s attracted to you, Wonwoo had seen it in his eyes the moment he’d met you last night. This little wolf crush is irritating, and Wonwoo hates being irritated.

Wonwoo’s gaze shifts to you. It’s unclear to him how you feel about your new day guard. You seem happy to be eating, so any emotions you have toward the werewolf will be skewed due to the joy you’re getting from the ramen.

No, Wonwoo will have to watch the two of you together closely, but, at the moment, he’s more concerned about getting Mingyu out of here so he can enjoy you himself.

“It’s about time you go to bed, wolf,” Wonwoo says.

“It’s still early,” Mingyu argues.

“Sunrise is at six fourty-five,” the vampire counters. “I’m sure you’ve had a long first day. You should rest.”

This time, Wonwoo makes sure to leave no room in his tone for objection, and with a very doglike look of defeat, Mingyu sighs.

“Okay, yeah, I can go to bed.” 

Wonwoo watches as Mingyu lifts up his bowl of ramen, and in two massive, wolfish slurps, he devours the rest of his food.

“Goodnight, y/n,” Mingyu smiles before heading to the kitchen to put away his dishes.

The werewolf lingers for a few minutes, and Wonwoo relaxes when he finally leaves, lumbering up to his second floor bedroom.

“You could have been nicer to him, you know,” you muse, lifting up a book to scan the potion recipe there.

“I could have been,” Wonwoo agrees, leaving it at that.

The two of you rifle through books as you eat your dinner, and then you head to the living room. Your nightly ritual consists of watching movies together, giving you a bit of a break before you go to read before bed.

Wonwoo knows you’ve been wearing yourself thin with all the books you’ve been flipping through. You’d spent the first three days locked in the house and thoroughly examining the library with Wonwoo before Mingyu had shown up, and Wonwoo would be surprised if you’d slept even eight hours in that three day period.

No, you need rest, even if it’s only when sitting next to him on the couch with a movie going.

You fall asleep in no time, and Wonwoo lets you be. He picks up a potions book, flipping through it while the film continues in the background.

Wonwoo won’t let anything hurt you, and he’ll lighten your load in any way he can, even if it means scanning stupid witch recipes. 

Four: 

Mingyu’s been your guard for around a week now, and things are running smoothly, however, you can tell Wonwoo’s still not happy about the situation. It’s midnight and the two of you are in the solarium, you’re getting bored of going through books, so you sigh, setting yours down.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Annoyed,” Wonwoo responds smoothly, not looking up from his book. “I swear I’ve read over fifty different love potions this week, and they’re all just as useless as the last.”

“That’s because love potions don’t work,” you sigh, moving closer to Wonwoo. “Each potion has a different flaw, so each potion is adjusted to make up for that flaw, only to be ruined in some other way. But hey, you know that’s not what I was asking you.”

“You asked how I was feeling.”

“I mean… how are you feeling about this whole Mingyu thing?” 

“I feel,” Wonwoo sighs, “like we better find this Daylighter potion soon, because that werewolf cologne isn’t working as well as we thought it would.”

“Is it just his smell you don’t like?” you ask.

“I don’t like dogs,” Wonwoo states, still not looking at you.

“I know werewolves and vampires don’t get along, but I mean, he’s a nice guy, don’t you think?”

Wonwoo stays silent, an answer in and of itself.

You  groan. “Even if we do find the Daylighter potion, even if I’m able to brew it, you can’t protect me twenty four seven. I think Mingyu is going to be with us longer than anticipated.”

“I can protect you,” Wonwoo declares, finally raising his eyes to meet your own. “When you brew the potion, and I can walk in the sun, I can protect you always.”

“Even vampires need a little rest every now and again,” you sigh. “Besides, is that really what you want? To protect some young witch until she’s an old lady?”

Wonwoo’s eyes shift downward again. “You’re not just some young witch.”

You continue staring at Wonwoo, trying your best to read him. You wonder if maybe he does care for you, if Mingyu’s seeing something you’re not. Why would Wonwoo be so protective of you if he didn’t have some sort of feeling for you? He clearly doesn’t just want the Daylighter potion so he can leave you and go be a powerful vampire elsewhere.

God, he’s so confusing at times.

You let out a breath. “I told Mingyu about the potion.”

“What?”

“The Daylighter potion, I told Mingyu.”

Wonwoo closes his book, and you can tell from his expression that he’s irritated. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Who’s he going to tell?” you retort. “Seungcheol? Even if he did, what would Cheol even do about it?”

“If the wolves ever found out there was a potion to make vampires walk in the sunlight, they’d come destroy this whole house, and they’d kill you too, just for good measure.”

“Seungcheol just spent years protecting me,” you argue. “He would never do that, and besides, Mingyu won’t tell anyone.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“I just am, call it witch’s intuition.” 

To your surprise, Wonwoo actually cracks a smile. He shakes his head, releasing a sigh. “Fine.”

“Fine,” you echo, picking up your book again to continue reading.

The two of you sit silently as you work, but your mind begins to drift.

In a way, it’s almost as if Wonwoo feels threatened by Mingyu, as if- he’s jealous. There’d never been this aura when Seungcheol was around, but then again, Seungcheol had never been a real threat, even though he was an alpha… maybe, especially because he was an alpha.

You’re attracted to both Wonwoo and Mingyu, but you’ve always pushed that attraction aside with your vampire protector, always convinced yourself he didn’t view you in that light.

Mingyu’s arrival is stirring the cauldron, and you’re not quite sure what to make of it. 

Five: 

It’s been almost a month with no issue. Mingyu’s gotten used to everything, used to the constant reading, the constant witchy little foraging adventures. He’s just gotten used to you, and maybe, in someways, Wonwoo as well. 

The werewolf is currently sitting outside your bedroom as you shower in your ensuite. The two of you had been checking wards when it had started to rain, and you’d been shivering so much when you made it back to the house that Mingyu had insisted you heat yourself up.

He does his best not to listen when you’re in the shower, not to be overtly aware- but even with two doors between you, his senses are too strong not to be honed in on everything, especially with a full moon approaching in three days.

You have a bodywash you make, and although the strong pleasant scent of eucalyptus and rosemary is predominant in the air that wafts under the doors, there’s something beneath it too, a smell that Mingyu knows all too well.

He can’t hold it against you though, he’s pretty sure you’re all a little horny from being cooped up like this- well, maybe not Wonwoo, but Mingyu’s definitely been feeling it. The bathroom is the only place you have any real privacy, and lately, Mingyu’s noted that you’ve begun to use the seclusion to your advantage. 

The running water muffles your sounds, but even the world’s best witchy bodywash can’t cover your scent, and Mingyu sits there, doing his best not to gulp it down like a starving animal.

He can feel the blood rushing to his cock, and he does his best to turn his brain off, to calm down- after all, he can’t have you exiting the shower and seeing him hard in his pants.

God, Mingyu had never even considered that horniness would be a problem in a situation like this. 

At least he gets to go to his room every night and do what needs to be done- but you, you have a guard within 10 feet of you at all times.

He wonders if you do this at night, when Wonwoo’s outside your door. And for the first time, Mingyu wonders if Wonwoo’s as tormented by the sexual nature of seclusion as he is. 

It’s not something he’ll be able to ask the vampire, as much as Wonwoo tolerates Mingyu now, that’s a line he won’t cross. 

Six: 

When Mingyu had first come to the house, he’d just finished a full moon cycle. Wonwoo had spent a couple of hours with him while you were sleeping one night, preparing a game plan for the wolf’s ‘time of the month.’

As your night protector, Wonwoo had told Mingyu to go deep into the woods on the night of the full moon. If he was far enough away, the thought was that Mingyu would just stay in the forest, leaving you to your own devices for the night.

Even if Mingyu did make it to the house in his raged-out wolf form, Wonwoo would protect you, and Mingyu had given him permission to do so.

While Mingyu can transform at any time, full moons are the only transformations that are purely animalistic. All Mingyu is, his very soul, practically disappears. Full moons are when werewolves are at their most dangerous, but Wonwoo is confident in his strategies after spending years helping Seungcheol through his dark side.

Cheol had always spent the day after full moons passed out in the woods somewhere, his body recuperating from a mind/body disconnection of that caliber. Once a month, Wonwoo would do a double shift, and you’d spend the day resting with him in blacked-out rooms. 

The two of you get through many books, and when you’re hungry, Wonwoo lets you head down to the kitchen for no more than ten minutes just to grab leftovers. 

It’s a decent set up, and Wonwoo enjoys getting to be with you for a lengthy period. However, the night after the full moon, when you go to sleep, Wonwoo leaves you to head into the forest. Mingyu, like Seungcheol had been, is not hard to find. His scent is overwhelming, and Wonwoo discovers the large man asleep in a bed of moss.

Wonwoo’s no stranger to nudity, not after dealing with Seungcheol, so he simply bends down, lifting Mingyu onto his shoulders.

‘This is just a professional courtesy,’ the vampire tells himself as he takes Mingyu back to the house, gently lowering him into the tub. 

Mingyu’s covered in dirt, and blood too- if his entire being wasn’t tainted by the scent of dog, Wonwoo might actually be tempted to go in for a bite, but the thought of drinking from Mingyu makes Wonwoo’s nose scrunch as he turns on the water.

Wolves can handle heat, and Mingyu groans a little, shifting in the tub. The bathroom begins to fill with steam and Wonwoo finds a wash cloth. He coats the fabric in body wash, and then, with a sigh, Wonwoo begins to wash Mingyu.

The wolf’s arms are especially dirty, so Wonwoo starts with those, and little by little, Mingyu begins to regain consciousness.

Then, all at once, the werewolf is thrashing awake, pulling his arm away from Wonwoo. “What-”

“Relax, you had a particularly bad change last night,” Wonwoo sighs, putting the wash cloth down.

“Were you just…” Mingyu’s confused gaze dips down to the discarded cloth, “washing me?”  

“You smell terrible,” Wonwoo states bluntly. “Seungcheol had a habit of coming home from full moons and just getting into bed. We don’t have staff here, and I refuse to have ruined sheets, or change the laundry schedule.”

There are definitely factual, logical reasons for Wonwoo taking care of Mingyu, and without those reasons, Wonwoo would never dream of bathing a dog. But… Mingyu has been a good addition to your protection detail. He’s substantially more respectful than Seungcheol had been. He’s clean, and he cooks, and the kitchen is always spotless after he makes you meals. 

While Wonwoo respected Seungcheol, the vampire, as much as he hates to admit it to himself, somewhat enjoys the young prodigy wolf.

Wonwoo doesn’t respect the clumsy, gentle giant, not by any means, but perhaps, the vampire is starting to realize, there’s more to judging someone than just by their ability and enthusiasm for violence.

Seven: 

You’re sitting in a field of flowers, and the colors are wonderous. The sun is out, and the dress you’re wearing has the perfect amount of flow to it as you lounge on your picnic blanket. 

You lean back, releasing a deep sigh, and that’s when a hand drags up your arm.

You turn to see your vampire protector and your heart leaps in your chest. “Wonwoo! The sun!”

“The sun doesn’t matter anymore,” he shakes his head. “You cured me, remember?”

“I did?”

“The potion,” Wonwoo grins, leaning forward, his lips ghosting over your throat. “You cured me of my affliction to the sun.”

Confusion is bubbling inside of you, but as Wonwoo begins to kiss your neck, the confusion dies down. Your fingers thread in his hair. “I did cure you,” you muse, giving in to the feeling of him. 

“We found the recipe in the book, at the house.”

“The house,” you murmur. 

“Which house was it again? I can’t remember.”

He doesn’t remember the house? That’s odd. Wonwoo remembers everything-

A distant voice draws your attention. It’s calling your name, and it sounds so familiar-

“Tell me where you are,” Wonwoo urges.

“We’re in a field?”

“Tell me where you are,” the vampire repeats, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing painfully. When you look into his eyes, they’re completely black, and your heart leaps in your chest. Horns grow out of his head, and a moment later, it’s no longer Wonwoo in front of you, it’s a demon.

“Y/N, wake up!” a booming voice tears you away, and suddenly, you’re not in the field anymore. Your eyes snap open and you sit up abruptly, heart still racing in your chest. 

You feel arms wrap around you, and you realize it’s Wonwoo, the real Wonwoo. 

“I had the strangest dream,” you breathe, still trying to make sense of the whole thing.

“It was an incubus,” Wonwoo tells you. “I could sense that he’d entered your mind.”

“He was trying to find out where we are, to see if I’d made the Daylighter potion yet,” you whisper.

“Did you tell him anything?” Your vampire protector freezes next to you.

“No.” You shake your head. “I didn’t say anything.”

You hear someone release a breath, and you look up to find a frazzled Mingyu standing there. His hair is messy from sleep, and he’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of boxers. “What the fuck is an incubus?”

“Incubi are above your pay grade,” Wonwoo states simply, holding you closer. “Demons don’t generally get involved with lower levels like us, but the Daylighter potion would disrupt their system.”

“Right,” Mingyu nods, but you can tell he doesn’t fully understand. “Anyways, are we good? You’re good?” He approaches you, holding out a hand.

You grab his extended palm, squeezing gently. “I’m okay.”

As your heart stops racing, your body begins to focus on a different feeling.

It had been an incubus in your dream, and incubi feed off of one thing: sexual energy.

You suddenly feel very hot, in bed, between Mingyu and Wonwoo- God, you’d woken up from a nightmare only to find yourself in your best daydream.

Wonwoo stiffens beside you, and Mingyu’s grip on your hand tightens, his pupils visibly blowing in size. 

Can they… sense that you’re horny?

Fuck… can they smell it with their God damned super senses?

You suddenly feel like a bunny caught between two predators, but for some reason, you’re not actually scared. Both men have the capacity for violence, but you know, in your heart of hearts, that they would never, ever hurt you. 

“We should let her sleep,” Wonwoo says, voice low.

He begins to pull away but you cling tighter to him, your grip increasing on Mingyu’s hand too.

“No,” you breathe, swallowing thickly to get rid of the lump in your throat. “I uh… Don’t go.”

“Y/N,” Wonwoo warns, “This could end badly.”

“At this point, I don’t care,” you admit. The vampire looks at you for a few seconds, and you can tell he’s trying to get a read on your emotions. You cup his cheek with your free hand. “This is long overdue.”

Wonwoo stares at you, and for a moment, you think he’s going to pull away, but then, he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours for the very first time. He’s kissing you softly, showing a gentleness that you hadn’t quite expected.

You release a groan immediately, shifting closer-

Mingyu tugs in your hand. “I’ll just leave.”

You break your kiss with Wonwoo, turning to look at the wolf in the room. “Don’t go,” you whimper. “I want both of you.” 

You catch Mingyu’s gaze shifting to Wonwoo uncertainly, and you feel the vampire tense at your side.

“Both of us?” Wonwoo asks, voice shockingly level considering what you’d just suggested.

“Both,” you repeat, nodding. “I just- I don’t know, you’re both my protectors. I feel like, if I only slept with one of you, it would throw off the dynamic.”

“So you want us both… for the dynamic?” Wonwoo clarifies.

“That sounds horrible,” you groan. “I’m still sleepy- look, I’m attracted to both of you, I care about you both in different ways. Please don’t make me choose.”

You watch Mingyu and Wonwoo exchange a look again, but this time Wonwoo sighs and Mingyu shrugs.

“I won’t step on your toes,” Mingyu promises, addressing the vampire.

Wonwoo releases another exasperated breath. “If anyone knew I was agreeing to share a bed with a dog-”

“He’s a werewolf, don’t be rude,” you chastize, nudging Wonwoo in the ribs.

“Dude, you’ve already seen me naked,” Mingyu points out, and your heart nearly lurches out of your chest.

“What?”

“He carried me in the other night, after the full moon. I woke up in the bath and he was practically grooming me.”

Your eyes shift to Wonwoo in shock and he downplays it with a shrug. “I told you, I don’t like dirt on the sheets.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure we’re about to make a mess of this bedding,” Mingyu says, voice lowering as he steps closer. 

“I don’t care,” you breathe. “Enough talk.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” Mingyu grins, leaning down and grabbing your jaw. He brings his lips to yours and you immediately groan, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. He’s so warm and big, there’s a muskiness to his scent, but it doesn’t remind you of dog. It reminds you of the forest, of sanctuary, and it makes you lean in even more as Mingyu kisses your breath away.

Wonwoo shifts beside you, his hands fanning up and down your arms, then, you feel a second set of lips on your shoulder.

Your sleeping shirt has shifted down a little, allowing Wonwoo to have full access to your skin. Each cold kiss is a contrast to Mingyu’s warmth, and it makes you shiver between your two large protectors.

It seems Wonwoo’s the one with less patience out of the two men, which is something you’re not expecting as he grabs the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it off your body.

You’d not been wearing a bra to bed, and your nipples pebble at the cool air of the room when they’re newly exposed. You groan when two hands grab your breasts, one hot, one cold. It seems both men have a thing for tits, and you can’t say you’re mad about it as they begin to massage you, drawing even more sounds of pleasure from your lips.

It’s Wonwoo who pinches your nipple first and you gasp against Mingyu’s mouth, breaking the kiss to turn and look at Wonwoo over your shoulder. He kisses you deeply, his free hand grabbing the back of your head to draw you close.

You get so lost in Wonwoo that you don’t realize Mingyu has adjusted until wet, hot lips wrap around one of your nipples.

You whimper loudly, pulling away from Wonwoo to look down at Mingyu. His eyes are closed and he groans as he begins to suck diligently on your sensitive bud, his tongue lapping at you in a way you’ve never quite experienced. 

“Shit,” you moan, threading your fingers through Mingyu’s hair.

“I’m getting tired of his smell,” Wonwoo sighs beside you. “I know a way to cover it up.”

Mingyu pulls off your nipple, confusion written on his face.

“You both trust me, right?” the vampire asks, looking between you and the wolf.

“Yes?” you offer, not sure what else to say.

“Y/N, lay on the edge of the bed, Mingyu you’re on the ground below,” Wonwoo instructs.

You exchange a glance with Mingyu, but he shrugs, following through. Wonwoo helps you to the edge of the bed, adjusting so he’s behind you, your smaller body between his legs, ensnared.

“Take her shorts off,” Wonwoo instructs, and Mingyu’s even quicker to follow through with that command than the first.

You release a shuddery breath as your silky shorts are dragged down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to the two men.

Wonwoo’s hand wraps around your body, his fingers seeking out your clit.

You groan as he begins to stroke the sensitive bud, his lips tracing kisses along your throat. “Be good for us,” Wonwoo warns, his digits easily pushing into your wet core.

You whimper, shifting in his embrace. Wonwoo’s free hand braces across your chest, grabbing your breast and pinching at your nipple.

A quiver shakes through your thighs, and when you look down at Mingyu, you find him watching each movement with extreme interest.

Two of Wonwoo’s fingers begin to work open your pussy, and he begins to crook them up toward your gspot, making your legs shake even more.

“Have you ever squirted before?” Wonwoo asks, breath hot along your ear.

It feels so odd to be hearing him speak to you in this context, but at the same time, it feels so right. 

“I’ve never-” you shake your head, swallowing thickly as your words get caught in your throat.

“Good, then we’ll be your first,” Wonwoo smirks against your neck. “You’ll feel pressure, don’t try to fight it, just let your body do what it’s going to do, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod. 

Wonwoo presses one more kiss to your shoulder before his hand begins to move again. He expertly thrusts his fingers up to that special spot, and within seconds you can hear the wetness of your pussy with each movement. 

Mingyu gets closer, and he’s on his knees now. He’s looking between your pussy, your breasts and your face, as if he can’t quite decide what to focus on.

“Gonna squirt on your wolf, make him smell like you, mark him the way wolves usually mark their mates,” Wonwoo tells you, his voice low in your ear.

You whimper at his words, skin beginning to tingle as pleasure unlike anything else builds in the pit of your stomach. 

“Rub your clit for me,” Wonwoo commands next. “I think you’re just about ready for it.”

Your hand is shaking as you bring it between your thighs, gently drawing circles on your sensitive bud as Wonwoo continues to work your pussy, his motions getting even faster, and harder-

You groan desperately, throwing your head back against Wonwoo’s shoulder as a powerful release overtakes you. It’s like a pressure on your abdomen, but it’s so delightful at the same time, your body overwhelmed by it all.

You can’t open your eyes, can’t do anything but rub your clit as Wonwoo makes you feel something you’ve never felt.

You’re aware of a wetness between your thighs, but you can’t bring yourself to care as Wonwoo continues to work the pleasure out of you.

Finally, he’s tearing his fingers out of you, only to land a gentle smack to your pussy that has you yelping and shaking.

The moment his hand is gone, it’s replaced with a mouth, and your entire body jolts, eyes snapping open to see Mingyu between your thighs. He grabs at you, keeping you steady as his tongue pushes into your tight pussy, lapping at the walls that Wonwoo had just ravaged with his fingers.

The werewolf sucks your clit into his mouth and your body shakes, chest heaving-

Squirting hadn’t felt like an orgasm per se, it had been an entirely unique experience. It was pleasurable, and amazing, but the build up hadn’t been like that of a vibrator or the like- but what Mingyu’s doing to you is familiar. You can feel the coil tightening in the pit of your stomach as he ravages your pussy.

You love how messy he’s being, how sloppy- his tongue is everywhere, in the best possible way.

“Gyu-” you whimper, reaching one hand down to tangle in his hair. You don’t want him to move, don’t want him to go anywhere- your muscles are already tensing in anticipation of the orgasm he’s going to give you, and you’ll be damned if you miss out on it.

“He feels good?” Wonwoo asks in your ear. 

“So good.”

“I’ll give it to the wolf, he knows how to eat.”

There’s something about the deepness of Wonwoo’s voice, the sinful context of what he’s saying- it’s the last straw you need to fall over the edge. Your muscles tense incredibly tight before snapping, pleasure flowing through you like a river.

“Fuck!” you whimper, beginning to thrash- only for both men to hold you down. It’s clear they’re not going to let you run away from the feeling, and they keep you where they want you while Mingyu eats you through your high.

Your entire body is on fire with the pleasure, and you can feel it in every fiber of your being. It’s all consuming, in the best way.

You’re crying by the time Mingyu releases you, pulling away from your pussy. He stares up at you with dark eyes, and when he stands, you notice your squirt dripping down his chest. He’s covered in you, in your scent, and you realize why Wonwoo had wanted foreplay to be like this. Now, all either of them will smell is you, and you think they prefer it this way.

“How are we going to do this?” Mingyu asks, voice gruff, his cock straining against his boxers.

“We’ll take turns,” Wonwoo says factually, beginning to massage your breasts again. “As much as I think we’d all enjoy double penetration, I don’t want to break her. That’s something we’ll have to work up to.”

Mingyu nods. “Turns.”

“I’ll go first,” Wonwoo sighs, kissing your throat. “I’m not as into a mess as you are.”

Mingyu groans, but he doesn’t fight it.

“Because you’re both being good,” the vampire continues, “y/n, you can straddle Mingyu and I’ll fuck you from behind while you both toy with each other.”

“Please be fast,” Mingyu begs, “I don’t know how much I can hold off.”

“You’ll have to,” Wonwoo counters. “Only good dogs get treats.”

An expression blooms across the werewolf features, it’s a mix of lust, annoyance and confusion. You can tell he’s turned on by what Wonwoo just said, but there’s a lack of connection between the feeling, and the logistics that are probably running through Mingyu’s mind.

Unlocking new kinks is always confusing, but that’s not something you dwell on as you becon Mingyu to get onto the bed.

He lays down and you’re quick to grab his boxers, dragging them down in record speed.

Fuck, Mingyu’s huge- it makes you drool. “I want to suck him off,” you whimper.

Mingyu groans deeply. “Fuck.”

“You can do whatever you want,” Wonwoo coos as you get into position, on your knees, looking down at Mingyu’s massive cock. 

You grab the base, pumping it gently and looking up at Mingyu, who shifts desperately against the sheets.

He grabs the blanket, and you can tell he’s already close- you kind of love having this power over him. If the act of eating you out is enough to make him close to exploding- well, you wonder what sucking him off will do.

Two hands smooth across your ass, and then you feel Wonwoo’s cock swiping between your pussy lips. 

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, threading his fingers through your hair. “Can you… can you put it in your mouth?”

“You better not cum down her throat without asking permission first,” Wonwoo warns.

“I won’t, fuck, I won’t,” Mingyu whimpers, guiding you gently to his cock.

You lick at the head of it first, getting a better gauge for his size.

Mingyu shakes beneath you, hips twitching. You can sense he’s at war with himself, part of him clearly wants to apply pressure to your head and force you to take him, but another part is trying to be respectful of you. You wonder if this clash between animalistic and human sides is a result of the recent full moon-

Wonwoo’s cock slips into your wet core and you groan deeply, sinking more of your mouth onto Mingyu, who echoes your sound of pleasure.

You begin to suck on the werewolf’s tip as Wonwoo starts to slowly thrust into you, giving you more and more of his cock until he’s flush to your ass.

“That’s it,” Wonwoo groans, grabbing your hips. “Taking us both so good.”

The praise makes your entire body vibrate with energy, and you moan around Mingyu’s cock, sucking him deeper into your mouth until he’s practically hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck, fuck-” Mingyu is straining now and you can feel it.

“Almost looks like boytoy is going to pop before he even gets a chance at your pussy,” Wonwoo chuckles.

“No!” Mingyu blurts, “I’ll be good, just, fuck, hurry up!”

Wonwoo might not be the nicest in bed, but you are, and you pull off Mingyu’s cock, stroking it. “Take some breaths,” you tell him, resting your cheek against his thigh.

Mingyu begins to take audible gasps as he focuses on slowing himself down. You stroke him languidly, taking your time as Wonwoo’s pace increases behind you.

“You’re too nice to him,” Wonwoo groans, gripping your hips harder as he rails into you.

“Fuck, one of us has to be,” you whimper, closing your eyes so you can focus on the pleasure that’s beginning to surge through you.

“This isn’t good cop bad cop,” Wonwoo points out.

“True, but I’m also not a sadistic dom like you are,” you fire back with a moan.

You hear Wonwoo chuckle. “I guess that’s true.”

He adjusts slightly, and now, each thrust has him hitting a spot deep inside of you. “Kind of want you to cum again,” Wonwoo admits. “Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t-”

“Three times isn’t that bad,” Wonwoo points out. “Besides, Mingyu’s going to pop the moment he’s inside of you, so it’s not like he’ll make you cum.”

That’s a very good point, you realize, and you slip your hand between your thighs, rubbing your clit.

Your pussy clenches tight around Wonwoo from the stimulus and you both groan. 

“That’s it,” Wonwoo breathes. “Squeezing me so well.”

Mingyu groans above you, Wonwoo’s dirty talk doing as much to turn him on as you.

“Rub harder,” Wonwoo commands, and you do as you’re told, whimpering from how good it feels. “Mingyu, tell her how good she is, the sooner she cums, the sooner you cum.”

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good!” Mingyu blurts out immediately. “Your mouth, your hand- fuck, I can’t imagine how your pussy is going to feel, oh my god-”

His hand flexes in the bed sheets and Wonwoo chuckles.

“Cum for us, please, I need to feel you,” Mingyu begs desperately. 

Your core is throbbing from his words, throbbing from how well Wonwoo is fucking you.

“She’s close,” the vampire muses. “Her perfect pussy is just sucking me right back in.”

Mingyu lets out a strangled sound, and the noise is enough to throw you over the edge.

Nothing in your life has ever been as sexy as this moment. Two strong men, one begging and whining while the other dominates. You, caught between them both, the source of their torment and their pleasure. They’re opposites, in temperament as well as being, after all, werewolves and vampires have historically never gotten along- but they agree about you, and right now, that’s all that matters. 

Your core clamps down on Wonwoo’s cock, squeezing him desperately as your orgasm overcomes you.

Your hand motion on Mingyu’s cock stops, body too overcome by the feeling of cumming to pay attention to anything else.

Moans and whimpers escape you, your eyes clenched shut as waves of pleasure surge through your body. Wonwoo fucks you through it, and then he releases a small gasp, his thrusts coming to a stop. You can feel his cum filling you up as he gives three more shallow efforts of movement.

You’re both breathing hard, and before you can even fully recuperate, Mingyu’s tugging at you. “My turn,” he says desperately.

Wonwoo laughs, and you can only whimper as one cock pulls out of you. Mingyu is quick to drag you up his body, and then, his own length is entering your core, stretching out your pussy unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

You moan desperately, burying your face against Mingyu’s throat. 

“I’ve got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you as he begins to fuck up into you. “Fuck, so good, shit-”

He’s definitely not going to last long, so you do your best to focus on how good he feels. You can’t even bring yourself to care that his chest is sticky and covered in your squirt, in fact, the sinful aspect kind of turns you on even more.

Your core is still throbbing from your orgasm with Wonwoo, and each time your pussy contracts around the new, large intrusion, Mingyu gasps. His breath is hot against your throat, arms strong around your body as he holds you, fucking up into you like a wild man.

“Shit, shit, shit-”

“Cum for me,” you tell him, nuzzling against his jaw. “You’ve been a good boy, let go.”

Mingyu releases a strangled sound, and then he’s squeezing you tight, filling your pussy completely as he cums deep inside of you.

It feels good in his embrace. You’re not being crushed, instead, it feels like a protective weighted blanket, and he’s so warm too- God, you could fall asleep right like this, right now, his massive cock still buried to the hilt in your wet, throbbing pussy.

Mingyu’s heart is racing in his chest, and you’re both breathing heavily, but slowly he releases you.

“Take her to the shower, I’ll clean this all up,” Wonwoo’s voice draws you out of your daze.

“Can’t we just sleep?” Mingyu groans.

“You werewolves and the most unclean people I’ve ever met,” Wonwoo snaps, and you feel Mingyu sink beneath you, dejected.

��Come on, Gyu, a shower would be nice,” you encourage him, pressing kisses against his throat.

“Okay,” Mingyu sighs.

He stands a moment later, cradling you in his arms as he takes you to the bathroom. The two of you begin to wash each other, careful of all the cum. He’s so soft with you, so gentle, and you’ve never been this relaxed.

When you’re both clean, you go back to your room, collapsing onto your bed. Wonwoo sits on one side of you, Mingyu on the other. The werewolf tugs you to his chest, being your big spoon while your hand is in Wonwoo’s lap.

“Sleep with us,” you urge him.

“I can’t, but you two should get some rest,” Wonwoo sighs.

You’re so exhausted you can’t even find it within yourself to argue, and moments later, you’re falling asleep, basking in the warmth of the man behind you, and the comfort of your vampire protector watching guard. 

Eight: 

Wonwoo’s thoughts are turbulent as you and Mingyu sleep next to him. The sex had been amazing, and shockingly enough, Wonwoo hadn’t quite minded having the werewolf there. It’s clear that Mingyu is good for you, and at the end of the day, your wellbeing trumps Wonwoo’s own possessive tendencies.

He’s not one to dwell on things, so Wonwoo reaches for the ancestral diary on your bedside table. It’s not a recipe or spell book, so you’ve not spent a lot of time going through it, but Wonwoo just need something to distract himself. 

It’s only hours later when Wonwoo comes across a specific passage that makes him stop. It’s the first mention of the Daylighter potion he’s seen anywhere, and he continues to read, eager for the recipe.

‘The potion was supposed to cure sun affliction, and it did, but the concoction did more than that. It cured the vampirism as a whole. My protector, my guardian, now but a man. Powerless as a babe, but as fierce as he’s ever been. No other vampire would want this, so I’ve torn out the page with the ingredients. This potion, perhaps, is best left in history. No one should have the power to cure vampirism, least of all the witches. This could shift the tides in a war that’s been lasting centuries. The witches should not have this power, nor should the wolves or the demons. No one should have this power. The Daylighter potion was a success, but it was also the worst thing I’ve ever created. May the Goddess forgive me for this abuse of power.’

Wonwoo rereads the passage five times before he puts the book aside, trying to steady himself.

This whole time- they’d assumed the potion would cure a vampire’s weakness to sun. No one ever considered that the Daylighter potion might cure vampirism all together.

Wonwoo had wanted the potion so he could protect you day or night, but how could he protect you if he was a mortal?

If he was a mortal… if he was like you and Mingyu, could he grow old with you?

But… what use would growing old with you be if he could never keep you safe?

Wonwoo’s overcome with emotion as he stares down at you and Mingyu.

This was never an outcome he’d expected, and he’s not sure how you’ll react. 

The vampire decides not to tell you about this information. He decides to simply be there for you as long as you want him. He decides to let you sleep, unburdened by the discovery he’s just made. And finally, Wonwoo decides that you are more important than him being a Daylighter. He’ll choose the eternal night with you over the sunshine, and it’s his own choice to make.

Wonwoo doesn’t know who he is if he’s not your protector, so he decides that’s exactly what he’ll continue to be.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I love working on fics that center on these two, and It was so fun to write their dynamic :) Thanks again for supporting me this year, and I can't wait to see you guys in 2025!

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. You’ve learned new spells and potions, but your education in a more sexual nature has grown too. Being with two men has its own learning curve, and you’ve been a more than willing student.

cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, double penetration, anal, oral, pussy eating, spanking, praise, dirty talk, degradation, mentions of porn, threesome, pussy stretching, breast worship, overstim, multiple reader orgasms, etc…  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.9k I teaser wc. 120

🌙 starring. Wonwoo & Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been four months of living in a house full of books, but it’s been two months since Wonwoo revealed to you the truth about the Daylighter potion. 

It has been hard to accept at first, and many night had been spent discussing it with Wonwoo. Your vampire protector has stood firm on his opinions, and you’ve had to accept the fact that he wants to continue to be immortal, not only for you, but for himself.

Wonwoo isn’t the oldest vampire ever, but he’s by no means the youngest either. You can’t really imagine him going back to a human form, to lose his strength and speed- no, he’ll continue to be a vampire, and the Daylighter potion has been pushed aside, no longer a priority.

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[simpjaes]

DAY-SHIFT. (p. sh)

― part one here! After finding out that your boss has seen, heard, and instructed you through some pleasurable nights while parading around as a faceless cam-boy, you decide that your best course of action is to: call out sick. use vacation days. avoid Park Sunghoon at all costs. Unfortunately, ten days doesn’t appear to be nearly enough time to erase what’s happened, and Sunghoon refuses to be avoided. or the one where sunghoon pretends that he isn’t an anxious mess over accidentally exposing himself and you just so happen to have a lot of fucking empathy. 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― boss / cam boy!sunghoon x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT― 14.5k 

CONTENT― forbidden office romance kind of, smidge of angst if ur sensitive, mentions of predatory behavior from sunghoon, he is more desperate than he is dominant, just the way we like it.

NOTE ― bro im so sorry this took way too long to write, it also is way longer than it's supposed to be. but yknow. i had to do him right lmfao. NOT PROOF READ.

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― perverted sunghoon, heavy petting, making out, foreplay on a chair lol, desk sex, very intimate shit ok? ok., pussy eating, jerking off, finger fucking, fingers-in-mouth antics, gagging, implications of something more than just an office fling, unprotected sex, he fills you UP!!! YIPEE!!! 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Avoidance.

That is the only way you know out of any awkward or unsavory situation. Avoid, avoid, avoid. Find a new job, change your name, dye your hair– question all of your life choices up to this point.

It’s the fact that never in your life have you had an interest in live sex cams. It was always just a porn video or a nice erotic novel for you. Sometimes curiosity gets the best of you though, like it does all people, and it’s not like you thought anyone would ever know who you are or catch you in the act of feeding into your curiosities. 

The one time you ever navigated to the live camera feed on your favorite porn site did shift your sexual appetite a little bit. A whole new world of seeing exactly what you want without needing to search for far too long for that perfect video…for a cost, of course.

You made good money already, and it’s not like you weren’t going for that promotion at the time either. You thought, why not? Why not pay a pretty, faceless man for some anonymous jerking off and move on with your life? 

The one time you found something to satiate the late night body-cravings, the point of pleasure ended up being…your boss?

Small world? Miniscule, fucking tiny little world. 

For days you wondered if Sunghoon’s text to you was just a coincidence. After all, the faceless man on screen didn’t say a word to you after you uttered the name of your boss. Even if he directly said your name. Even if Park Sunghoon uttered your false name at work. 

Consistent back and forth in your head. From, “No, how could that even be possible? No way is it him.” to “but Mr.Park started being weird after the first call, he used both names, he played off of the boss/employee dynamic.”

You’re going crazy as you send another email to your department, apologizing for taking so many days off but not truly apologetic. It’s been ten days now and Sunghoon has yet to text you again. 

That little “Can we talk?” can be heard in your head in his voice. Only now recognizing how clear and unique it truly is when he does speak. You try not to realize how similar the cam-boy sounded to him. Only connecting the dots when they force you to do it, really. You still try to convince yourself that the text was about firing you, given his actions at work that very same day. 

Maybe he was avoiding you because he felt awful about needing to fire you? 

Maybe he sent that text message to start the process of pushing you out? 

After all, it’s still very difficult to imagine Park Sunghoon having a cock that nice, or cum in that amount. Given, it’s not like you ever thought about him jerking off or anything, it’s just–

You don’t fucking know. Your brain is a mess of shaking anxiety and echoes of sexual frustrations and moans. 

You were refunded your money. He texted after the session. He said your name. It’s him, isn’t it?

You refuse to fucking find out.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

From:...[ HRatyourjob@workemail.org ]

CC:...[ parksunghoon@workemail.org ]

BCC:...

Subject: Time off Request: Rejected. Insufficient PTO.

[insert your name here],

The time you have requested from the 27th to the 3rd has been rejected due to insufficient hours. As of last Thursday, you are no longer meeting the minimum hour requirement as a full-time employee. Your PTO is at 0 hours and 00 minutes and you now have three unexcused absences. Please return tomorrow with a signed order or note that exempts you from work. If you move forward without returning to the building, this will be grounds for termination. Please review the company handbook and job abandonment guidelines. 

Additionally, COO Lee, myself, and Division manager Park will be scheduling a meeting with you in the upcoming days, failure to appear will result in immediate termination.

Thank you,

HR

Well, fuck. You knew the time to avoid this would dry up, and this ten day hideaway to fake your death didn’t quite pan out.

Devastating, truly, that you have to walk through those doors with the same legs your boss may or may not have seen spread open for him through a grainy webcam image. Horrifying, that you have to look him in the eye and explain that you really were sick for the past ten days, that you definitely were not hiding the shame of your sexual desires.

The worst part about all of this? Not just the embarrassment but the fact that…you liked it. On that night, had he admitted it was him, you may not have ended the call yourself. It felt like it added some danger to your arousal at the time. Which, naturally, makes you more embarrassed now. Mostly because, at worst if that was Mr.Park, it was predatory. At best though? You very well may have consented.

But the what ifs don’t matter now. The only thing that matters is forcing yourself through the awkwardness of being at work after avoiding it for so long already.

Fortunately for you though, work is…weirdly normal. In fact, no one acts like you’ve missed ten days at all. You are greeted by the usual co-workers, you sit down at your desk and can log in as usual, and there are no warning emails or invitations for what would be considered a meeting of termination either. 

The day goes by just fine, suspiciously so. Sunghoon, though you’re avoiding him at the moment, doesn’t appear to be too out of character either. At one point, you were forced to drop corrected paper work off in his office, and he gave you the same usual and small “Thank you” before you stepped out with your legs threatening to buckle. 

Then again, his “casual” appreciation could just be your mind playing positive little tricks on you. Maybe it wasn’t casual at all. Maybe that little uncharacteristic breath afterwards isn’t just in your head. You didn’t make eye contact with him during that brief moment, and you did rush out quite quickly so you wouldn’t really know. However, in the deepest part of your brain his voice really does match the one who said all those dirty things to you. 

Maybe you’re still overreacting.

Or maybe you dreamed all of this up. 

You choose to remain unaware of the awkwardness around you solely because everything else is normal. Deep, deep down, you know. But you’re not giving that truth a chance to thrive or run your brain anymore.

And just as the day comes to an end, you’re actually feeling better. Anxiety is draining out of you, fear and embarrassment sit dormant in some hidden part of your brain over the small possibility of virtually fucking your boss. It seems you’ve let this work day clear up all of that fear in your head.

You were wrong, right? It wasn’t him, right? He’d have tried to defend himself by now. What boss wouldn’t be absolutely terrified that you’d report him, anyway? After all of that?

You actually feel a little dumb at the possibility of Mr. Park ever wanting you sexually, or ever even wanting to speak to you in that way. Asking to see your pussy? Telling you how to touch it? No, that’s definitely not him. Couldn’t be him. 

And your eyes do stray after a little while. Just to steal glimpses into his office, feeling relieved and weightless now that it appears your fears are over and finally understood. Doesn’t change the fact that now when you look at him, you might be wildly fucking attracted to him. Because fuck, imagine if that was him. You’re kind of forced to put his image to the faceless cam-boy now, not that you want to do that or anything. It just…you can’t really blame yourself for it.

You lend yourself a little laugh. As happy as you are that you’re able to convince yourself that it’s not Sunghoon’s cock you’ve yearned for, you really wouldn’t mind sleeping with someone as handsome as him. 

Crazy how the lack of anxiety lets you think those types of things though, isn’t it? When your brain is no longer fogged by fear or embarrassment, it’s like the clarity can sometimes be scarier simply because you don’t know how true certain statements are. Even through all of that fear, maybe a part of you wished it was him. 

Even with the weight on your shoulders lifted, in hindsight, maybe you’re even a little disappointed that it wasn’t. 

And, just as you’re preparing to clock out and head home with a big secret crush and a little pep in your step, you hear the familiar notification of an email. No problem, probably just a daily report or something. 

From:...[ parksunghoon@workemail.org ]

CC:...

BCC:...

Subject: Mandatory Advising

[insert your name here],

Please come to my office before you leave for the day to discuss your conduct as of late. 

Thank you,

Park Sunghoon

Division Manager

000-000-0000 ext. 000

Well, double fuck. To think everything was fine despite you being well aware of that shit HR said to you previously? 

You barely recognize how the email is sent directly to you from Mr. Park, not including HR or COO Lee. In fact, the anxiety wells up inside of you so quickly that you nearly have to dry heave a few times before taking a deep breath. 

In your head, it’s not even about the web-cam session with a faceless man anymore. Your anxiety about that died the moment you successfully lied to yourself enough, now you’re genuinely just afraid you’ll lose your job or that beloved promotion you worked so hard to be qualified for. You just had to let your anxiety run your life for the past ten days, didn’t you? After all, skipping work to such an extent? Everyone had to have known that it was a lie eventually.  

So, you stand to your feet, brush off your thighs, and attempt to keep your heart from pounding as you make your way to Mr. Park’s office expecting to see HR, COO Lee, and a severance package on the desk waiting for your signature. 

Instead, you walk in to just find your boss. He’s looking at you as he normally would, eyes focused on his screen before glancing at you for a moment and nodding his head to one of the chairs in front of his desk. 

“Mr. Park–” You start, nearly wincing at the way you say it because, well, you haven’t said it since the night you had your pussy out on display. It’s only natural to physically react, right?

“One moment.” He says in a small voice, clicking a few times with the mouse as you watch the monitor light shine across his cheeks with each window he minimizes. 

It’s silent for a few moments as you awkwardly look around an office you’ve been in countless times. His lights are always dimmed, the temperature is always comfortable. You’re gonna miss this office, though it’s not your own. It was a nice, brief escape before all of this if you’re being honest. 

“How was work for you today?” He turns his attention to you, finally adjusting and rolling his chair to center himself in front of you behind his desk 

You pause at the question, unintentionally tilting your head at it like a puppy. “Good? Normal, I guess?” 

You watch as he nods with a tight-lipped expression, eyes falling to his desk as he takes in a deep and disappointed sounding breath. 

“Well, that’s one of us.” He huffs out, causing you to feel a bit confused with his tone. Is he being…passive aggressive? And when he snaps his eyes from his desk straight to your own confused gaze, you can almost sense a bit of something else in them compared to usual. 

Not anger. Not disappointment. 

He looks worried.

“Eleven days–” Sunghoon drones on with an exhausted tone, cutting himself off with another breath that shows you were right to assume his current displayed emotion. “You have ignored my text messages for eleven days.” 

You’re shocked by that because as far as you’re concerned, he has not texted you.

“What are you–” You furrow your brows at him, frantically pulling out your phone. “You haven’t texted me. See? The last one I got was–” You take a second as you pull up his texts and remember the exact time he texted you. So late into the night, right after…that. Naturally, you silence yourself, afraid to say it out loud.

“On the contrary,” Sunghoon denies your proof. “I texted from my personal phone.”

You hesitate again, looking down and noting the notifications under the tab of  “message requests.” To be fucking fair though, you didn’t even know that existed so you never really paid attention to it. Especially as you practically avoided your phone out of fear that he’d be texting you again. 

You were thankful he didn’t. That comforted you. Now though? Your comfort is replaced yet again with anxiety because, well, he texted you consistently after that night.

“Oh–” You say quietly, seeing a glimpse of “Please, let me call y–” in one of the messages.

“I didn’t see those.” Quickly, you turn your screen off and shove your phone back into your pocket, nervously clasping your hands in front of you and looking to the floor. 

“I will reiterate then.” 

You can hear the leather on his chair squeak against his expensive suit when he leans forward, both hands splayed out on his desk in a wide and intimidating stance in front of you. 

“Wait–” You look around the office now. “If you’re going to fire me– shouldn’t the others be here too?”

Sunghoon pulls back at that, narrowing his eyes before lending a very small and even more nervous chuckle.

“I’m not firing you. I told them I’d take care of your sudden and, quite frankly, unhelpful vacation.” 

You look to the floor again, feeling scolded for your actions but having a genuine reason. If Sunghoon truly is aware of that reason for your absence, he understands too, right?

“I have been beyond inappropriate with you.” He blurts now, that same leather squeaking as he leans back again and looks away from you the moment you snap your head up. “I have reason to believe you’ve not yet reported me, and I’d like to ask for the opportunity to explain myself before you do.” 

You feel a chill wash over your whole body, cold sweat peaking right at your temples as you stare forward. He’s being so professional about this, and that lie you’ve convinced yourself of is showing it’s face as just that, a fucking lie.

So this is it? 

So there it is? A semi-admittance that it was him? That little feeling in the back of your head that wishes it was diminishes within an instant. In fact, you narrow your eyes at him, your nose crinkles, and you feel frustration bubble up in your gut.

“So you admit that it was you?” You ask, needing a full confirmation. 

“Yes.” Sunghoon sighs, leaning back somehow further, creating as much distance from you as possible before unintentionally rolling his eyes. Mostly due to the fact that he was stupid enough to let this happen, mostly to shame himself. “What I did was inappropriate and unacceptable. I didn’t intend for this to ever happen.”

Now you feel a bit…pissed off.

Like? Oh, he didn’t intend for this to happen? What? You mean he didn’t intend to let you fucking find out! Well, as good as he is at playing the part of a slutty man on the internet, he’s not so good at acting in real life, now is he? Saying your false fucking name at work, saying your real name with his cock out?

What in the fuck are you supposed to do about this? Why is he giving you the ability to report him? He’s the one with the power here. He could fire you now and bury the information if he so pleased. After all, He’s besties with COO Lee, right? That bitch in HR has an obsession with him too. Hell, everyone here loves the guy. 

You’re just a bottom of the barrel employee trying to work your way up. If you got him fired, surely he’d make damn sure you never work for a decent company like this one again. Additionally, you don’t even want to report him.

Yeah, it was fucking weird that he just knew it was you and kept going. Super strange that he had to have known after the first call, only to ask to see you in the second one. Why does that turn you on in the midst of this anxiety induced spiral? Why the fuck is the idea of Park Sunghoon apologizing for masturbating to and for you so alluring?! 

Sure, maybe it’s kind of nice knowing that someone of his status would ever find an interest in you, but it doesn’t quite wash the frustration away. You have every right to question, and every right to be pissed off about it. 

Still, in this quiet room, Sunghoon is stoic and all you can think about when you look at him is the way he said “if I were your boss i’d–” and the way he fucked his palm while saying it, implying he wanted it to be you while simultaneously knowing it was you watching. 

Since fucking when did Mr. Park ever show a sexual interest in you? And if he did, why the fuck couldn’t he have just been normal about it?

“That was really fucked up, you know that?” You argue immediately, voice shaking at the speed of which your emotions shift. Your resolve isn’t quite as clear as it probably should be. Perhaps you should report him, or maybe you already should have. But, it’s not like you accepted the truth until he demanded it of you.

You would have let it slide. Both of you could have pretended it never happened. You could’ve gone home and continued working, never paying a cam-boy again had Sunghoon not called you into this stupid, comfortable ass office. 

“In my defense, I was just doing my job. Though it’s my own fault for not telling you, my job here was at risk if you had found out.”

“You made me talk about you.” You roll your eyes at him now, gaining the power and control over the conversation. “And you thought I wouldn’t find out?! What? Did that get you off or something?”

“I–” Sunghoon stops himself from answering that question truthfully. He quickly tries to explain away the stutter instead. Never has he been scolded by an employee, but you’re well within your rights to do so. “I wasn’t in my right mind. I never get called by name during these sessions and I apologize for having you say it.”

“And you want me to report you?” You raise a brow at him. “Want me to just storm right into HR and tell her how you’re a fucking pervert? Want me to tell her how you told me to repeat your name? To thank you for it? Is that really what you want?” 

Are you enjoying yourself a little too much? Maybe.

Sunghoon doesn’t respond though, instead, he runs his hand through his hair and sighs from the stress welling up inside of him. He can only act calm and collected for so long, and it’s been eleven days already. He hates how hearing you say those words goes straight to his cock at a time like this, he hates even more how all of this could have been avoided if he had simply declined your second call. 

But you’re not wrong. He is a pervert, and he did tell you to thank him for the pleasure you were getting from his voice and half image alone. At the time, he was so turned on he really just couldn’t help himself. You fed his sexual appetite unknowingly and now this is the consequence of his action. Being a known pervert.

Is it what he wants though? To be reported? Humiliated?

Fuck.

Arguably, just having you humiliate him like this is enough. Drives him crazy, really. Whether it be from arousal or guilt, or both. 

And for the first time since you started working here, you see him for what he truly is. A strong man to an extent, but he’s crumbling under his own mistake and it makes you wonder just how far he would’ve taken it had you not found out. 

“And what if I didn’t realize who I was fucking myself for?” You glare. “Would you have asked for more? Avoided me here even more? Would you have declined my application for the assistant position because you can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re a fucking pervert?!”

Sunghoon raises his hands in defense. 

“Please–” His voice sounds panicked. “Please, keep your voice down.”

“Answer the question, then. Just fucking own it at this point.” You throw your arms up now, letting them fall back down in a slap to your thighs. “Would you have made my work-life miserable just so you could watch me get off to you? Knowing the whole time? Would you have kept on with that boss slash employee shit just so it felt more real for you?” 

Staring forward at him, you watch him accept that everything you’re saying is likely exactly what would have happened. Maybe he really will try to own it. Which would be… a good thing if you decide to let your own resolve falter.

So fucking secretive, huh? An actual, real life degenerate? And it’s Sunghoon of all people? 

“Maybe…” Sunghoon trails off, making himself seem much smaller than he usually is on a day-to-day basis. “I mean, No–I,”

Oh, he’s actually stuttering.

“And you want me to tell on you? You want me to fuck your life up?” You raise a brow. “As if I didn’t pay you to do it?”

In all honesty, aside from the anxiety and awkwardness, and despite never once thinking of Sunghoon too sexually, things have changed. Drastically. Especially after being confronted with this situation and he’s not intimidating you or using his power to control you. No, he’s giving you the power and quite frankly, you don’t know what to do with it. 

Are you basking in it? Absolutely. Is it nice to see him cower in front of you? In that big plush chair that costs more than your monthly income? Hell yeah.

But goddamn, had he approached you before all of this and asked for a date, or showed interest, you would have gladly partaken in a secret romance with him. He’s intelligent, attractive, clean, and has money. It’s not like you ever expected the guy to go home and fuck himself on camera. 

You never thought he was the type to be so lonely either. Or so desperate, judging by how he acted during those two sessions. Arguably, you always wondered why there was never a ring on those pristine fingers. 

And while you were definitely the victim in this situation, you feel more embarrassed than you do violated. Many nights you thought of how he spoke, how he said how badly he wanted you. It’s embarrassing because you’re starting to love the idea of who those words really came from. The Park Sunghoon, so untouchable in the business world. So untouchable by women and men solely because he appears to be too expensive, too pristine.

But you…

You’ve seen him dirty. 

Part of you wishes you didn’t pay to be humiliated like this. The rest of you wishes you didn’t fucking like it as much as you do.

“It’s only fair.” Sunghoon explains with a short breath. “I feel awful for what I’ve done, and I should have told you the moment I recognized her as, well–” He pauses with a pained face, as if he hates hearing himself say it. “You.”

“Then, why didn’t you?” You raise your brow again, nearly forgetting you’re at work, solely focused on the conversation at hand and feeling relieved at the way it’s going.

Sunghoon shifts in discomfort, looking away from you.

“Do you want honesty?” He asks in a quiet voice, leaning forward on his desk but refusing eye contact. He keeps his gaze lowered the entire time, his voice small and shaky. 

There’s still people in the office, though his door is closed and it’s unlikely he can be heard.

You nod to him with an even smaller “Go on then.”

“I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t you.” He says, shifting his hands and picking at his cuticles. 

Man, he really knows how to act sorry, doesn’t he?

“I avoided you after that first call, solely because I think I wanted her to be you. Which is…incredibly inappropriate.” 

He looks up at you now, searching for a reaction and only seeing you nod at him. His eyes shift right back down as he continues. 

“My avoiding you led you to– um– more services.” He explains quieter, admitting in full the situation he’s allowed to take place, seeming more and more insecure with his words than he ever has before. “I can admit that I have fantasies and needs.” 

Silence. 

“After that first call, I couldn’t help but be entirely attracted to you. The idea of–”

You suddenly find yourself thinking back to all of those things he said to you again, parading as if he wasn’t your boss, telling you what he'd do if he were. He seems to have accidentally found a sexual interest in the dynamic…and he fucking dragged you into it with him. 

“Mr. Par– Sunghoon.” You cut him off, actually feeling a bit of pity now at his admittance. 

His words make you feel like maybe he’s not entirely just a pervert who was intending to make you get off to him from the start. If anything, he probably felt uncomfortable at first knowing who was on the other end of the call. It’s the fact that his real life job was at risk if you found out, and still he indulged despite that. He accepted that second call, he asked for more, he acted like he really does want you.

 To the extent that losing his job was in the front of his mind and he still did it. He ignored the danger of it and prioritized getting off…with you. You find yourself wondering if this would have happened to any other employee under him if they happened to stumble across his stream too. 

Part of you wants to pretend he wouldn’t, because the idea that all of this is happening solely because it was you? It hits a little too hard, a little too deep. 

“Okay, okay. Stop,” You say, keeping your eyes on him and willing him to look up at you. “You don’t have to keep explaining, I get it.”

“No.” He does meet your eye this time, stopping your brain of all thoughts at how differently you see him now versus all the times before. “I do.” 

He’s so honest. Probably too honest for his own good. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at his job, maybe that’s why everyone loves him. Maybe a bit of lying would help him in this situation if it were anyone else, but for you? 

You kind of enjoy the way he’s telling the truth. Admitting that he was desperate, apologizing for wanting you even if just for a brief moment.

“I asked you to turn on your camera for selfish reasons. I asked you to say my name, then I made the mistake of exposing myself because I–” He hesitates, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply through his nose. “I struggled to pretend it wasn’t me, and that she wasn’t you. I very well knew what I was doing, and at the time, I wished that you did too.”

More silence as you stare at him, stunned, slightly in awe. 

“But I knew you wouldn’t have reciprocated. What I’ve done is criminal, and I am encouraging you to report me for it if that’s what you deem necessary.” 

“And if I don’t?” You don’t leave any more room for silence now, feeling desired and validated. 

You can’t pretend that you’re mad, though you were previously. You simply can’t pretend that, now at least, you wouldn’t reciprocate. If anything, you’re more interested now than you think you ever would have been before. 

“We can forget any of this ever happened. I’ll stop streaming and accepting private calls, and we can hopefully move forward without any ill-feelings of one another.” He blinks at you, near pleading with his eyes. “I’ll push your application through– That is, if you still want the position.” 

Sunghoon does wince at the bribe, considering he���s never done such a thing let alone commit acts of sexual harassment, or perhaps even non consensual foreplay with someone. It really really wasn’t entirely intentional, and he’s disgusted with himself. If you report him, he’d take the hit to his reputation and career, but if you don’t…what then?

Ill-feelings, he says? If anything, you might feel more ill parading around like you wouldn’t want him to do all of those things he said previously, with free-will to say as he pleased without the fear of you knowing who the words were coming from. 

“Can you please stop with the professional talk?” You hum out with an exhausted eye roll.  “I don’t want the promotion if you’re just offering it so I don’t rat you out.” You narrow your eyes now and lean yourself forward. “You hope to forget this ever happened? Really?” 

Carefully, the two of you watch each other for a while longer. Sunghoon looking like he’s about to catch himself on fire, and you, looking annoyed and amused. Still, the thick air in the room starts to feel suffocating under the pressure of the “issue” at hand as you scold him further. 

“What you did was predatory. But– I don’t want to ruin your life over this.” 

You watch as Sunghoon listens, his posture opening up a bit more as you speak, showing that he’s being relieved of his stress through your words alone. 

“Are you trying to hold a promotion over my head over this?”

Before he gets the chance to curl in on himself again, you answer for him. 

“Maybe.” 

You continue too, not letting him speak for the time being. Or, rather, giving him a chance to breathe. 

“Should you change your username and continue doing what you want behind closed doors because it’s no one else’s business?” You really watch him this time. “Yes.” 

He blinks at you, raising a brow in slight confusion. 

“Did you take advantage of me?”

He nods before you whisper out another “yes” yourself. 

“Would I let you do it again…?”

Oh, for Sunghoon, it’s hard to breathe right now as he anticipates what you’ll say. Is it going to be a ‘no’ this time? Are you going to stand up and change your mind? Despite just stating you don’t want to ruin his life?

God, hasn’t he already let you?

“Yes.”

Pause. 

“I’m sorry?” Sunghoon responds in disbelief, shifting his eyes to his hands and then back to you. “Come again?”

“Sunghoon.” You make it a point to call him by his name now, ignoring the etiquette of a proper boss and employee dynamic. “I am humiliated by all of this but I can see that you are too. You’ve admitted your guilt and even go as far as encouraging that I report you.” You pause again, knowing that this isn’t where the conversation should be going for any, uh, normal person, you suppose. 

“If you had just told me. If you had said anything about wanting to, like, fuck me, I would have done it with or without the promotion on the line.”

Does that make you sound a little desperate? Yeah. But it’s not like he doesn’t know how badly you need to be fucked. After all, you know, the cam sessions and stuff. You were literally paying a stranger to get you off. 

Shouldn’t he, of all people, know that you were bad-off enough to get laid?

Sunghoon’s issue though, is that he never looks at his employees sexually. No matter how pretty, no matter how much they flaunt themselves at him. He never has, and probably never will again. If it hadn’t been for that single first session with you, all would be well. But now? He’s too attracted to you. 

He wants you so badly.

“If you tell me right now that you want me, in the same way you did on that call–” You stop yourself to really look at him. With the way he swallows, the way his lips slightly part, the way his hands show signs of eleven days worth of nervous habit cuticle picking. “If you do all of those things you said you’d do ‘if you were my boss’...”

“Wait, wait–” Sunghoon stands in a rush, causing you to jump slightly at the sudden sound echoing off of the walls in the office. “Do you understand the consequences of what you’re implying right now?”

“If I fuck my boss, we could both be fired?” You smile, feeling the confidence raise within you. Watching the way he reacts to your lewd words face to face rather than through a microphone. 

“That would be…correct.” He raises a brow. 

“Well, technically, you’ve already been fucking me.” You look away from him, feeling a bit shy even with the confidence, but never having spoken to a man so bluntly before like this? It’s a bit scary. “Would it really make anything worse if, you know, I do reciprocate?”

Goddamn. Sunghoon might be a bit smitten. This situation could have gone a thousand different ways, and you offer the one that includes your legs spread across this fucking desk and his face buried between them?

Oh. Never has he been so willingly turned on at work. 

“Is this what you want?” He asks in a breath, shifting his eyes to the door and walking towards it, immediately reaching for the lock but not quite turning it. 

“Is that what you want?” You counter, turning and staring at the lock. 

Sunghoon hides his nod, wanting you to be the one to answer first. After all, hasn’t he been self-indulgent enough?

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He finally breaks and says it, blatantly, not sugar coated, yet still sweet when the words hit your ears. “After all this, you still want it?” 

You nod, dipping your head a bit against your shoulder. 

Click. 

“I guess I should have known.” Sunghoon plays with his words now, hand dropping from the now locked door and eyes entirely on you. “Do you want me to fuck you, or would you prefer–”

“You.” You smile, feeling your skin prickle at the electricity that enters the room through breath and words alone. It’s the way he already shifted. Like all of that anxiety melted out of him within an instant. 

“No, no.” He stalks towards you now, the nervous Sunghoon is no longer in sight as he makes himself seem bigger, taller, far more intimidating. Just like he was on camera. “The me you saw on screen is not the same as what you’re seeing right now.” He tries to explain. 

“Oh?” You tilt your head, and he only finds that cute. 

Far too cute. 

“You’d do as I ask, right?” His voice shifts to a raspy whisper as he centers himself in front of you, both hands reaching the arms of your chair as he hovers above you. “I’m far more tame online.” 

Tame?! That’s what he calls tame?! 

You stare up at him, keeping your jaw from falling slack as you physically see him shift from being your boss into being a man with a need. Not just any need either. A need for you.

Part of you wonders if he ever truly felt bad in the first place about all of this, because the shift from just moments ago is so dramatic it’s almost scary. 

“So, tell me.” He leans down, inches from your face as his eyes start to fall to a half-lidded stare at you. “You’ll do as I say? You’d let me do it all for you, and not ask me to stop until I feel it best, yes?”

You swallow and slowly nod. Oh god, it really, really, is him. 

“And while at work, you’ll behave?” He continues, lips now ghosting over yours to the point you can almost feel them press down. He’s implying that if you don’t tell, that this won’t be the only time too? Shit. He’s entirely aware of why this shouldn’t be happening, but still making it happen.

 “No matter what I do to you, where or how I do it, you’ll behave?”

You can’t help it when you lift your chin, just a bit to rest your lips against his words, eyes falling closed and hands hesitant to reach out for his perfectly ironed shirt. 

You feel his smile against your lips, with that sharp-toothed grin he rarely offers. 

“Ah, so it’s true.” He murmurs against you, his hand reaching for yours and guiding it for you, straight to his belt. “Dirty, dirty girl.”

A small, pleased, sound leaves your throat when he does kiss you, adding his own pleased hum alongside yours as his hands still hold yours in place over his belt, not quite letting you do anything just yet.

”Gonna be quiet–” He whispers into your mouth, just against your tongue before licking out and against it. “Even when I tell you to moan my name?”

You really shouldn’t be surprised, but you still are. You like this Sunghoon better than the one who stutters and picks his cuticles. He’s owning it, and in a way, so are you. 

 After all, it wasn’t until today that you truly learned what Sunghoon is like when he’s aroused. Not that you ever should have known in the first place. The fact that you do know, the fact that he’s showing you? It just makes this all the more arousing, in your opinion.

All he needed was a green light and within seconds it seems, Sunghoon became the need you’ve been chasing for months now through porn sites and erotic novels. 

You nod to his words, trying to drop your hand just a bit to feel what you’ve already seen. Just to feel how warm he is, how—

“Is that so?” Sunghoon whispers in an amused tone, guiding your hand right back to his belt, only to drop his other hand straight between your legs. “You’re supposed to do as I say. If I tell you to moan my name, you do it.”

Oh, the sexual confusion of what to do and which Sunghoon to obey. All you can do is continue to nod for him, hanging your head with a breath at the way he cups his hand over the entirety of your core. You wore pants today in order to hide your shame, to try and feel invisible based on previous circumstances. You’re not so happy about that now, as you try to feel his touch through the thick fabric only to shamelessly thrust your hips up and against his palm.

He moves his lips to the top of your head now, hovering over you in a perfect stance of power, hand gently rubbing up and and down despite your hips asking for a harsher touch. If anything, it makes him feel better knowing how you react to this. 

In actuality, his relief is sending his arousal through the roof. Not only are you not going to rat him out but…you want more of it? More of him, in particular? Not the facade of him online? 

At this point, if he gets caught, you’re both going down in flames. So, why not enjoy the ride?

Truly, it’s laughable in the way he’s just as amused as he is turned on, relishing in the fact that he wants you and you’re letting him have you despite his past actions. You’re messy too, he’s seen it, and now he gets to feel it. 

“Mhm,” Sunghoon hums against the top of your head, now pressing his own hips forward against your hand. “Feel that?”

The electricity? How hard he is? How needy you are?

”Yeah…” You sigh absentmindedly, bumping his chin with your head when you try to look up at him. You only blink twice before he coos out with a sad little sound. 

He doesn’t say a word after as he removes his hand and instead, grabs both of your hands and places them on his shirt. 

“Go on.” He smiles, waiting to see you to start fumbling against his buttons. 

And fumble, you do. Touching him, for some reason, feels so dangerous. Knowing you’re the one removing his shirt, watching his skin be revealed as it begins to fall open by your own doing? It’s electrifying. Enough to lose your train of thought as you study how toned and smooth his skin is. Just like how you had seen on camera, so clear in front of you now. You’re aching for him by this point, being able to feel his body heat, touch him, feel his eyes on you. 

If you had really known back then who it was you were talking to, you very well may have pretended to not know as well, judging by the way your entire body catches fire for him. 

And as his shirt falls completely open, he’s satisfied with the way you do it. Complacent and docile beneath him, nervous fingers shaking much like he did for the past eleven days. With those pretty eyes looking at him, like there’s nothing in your head at all. 

He chuckles at you, grabbing your hands again and placing them right on his chest, helping your hesitant touch to massage and caress each bump and toned muscle. He intentionally flexes the further down your hands go, all the way back to his belt. 

There, he looks down at where you touch, then back at you with a quirked brow. You stare  up at him, blinking, face feeling hot, and it’s like you move your hands on instinct. The sound of his buckle being unclasped echoes in the room, and his eyes only darken with the sound.

The sound of it slipping from the loops when he takes it upon himself to remove it completely for you, the sound of his breathing, the sound of that zipper, the button, the shuffling of his pants being skewed down just enough to fit your hand inside.

He moans at the image alone, loving the way your smaller hand looks slipping down his pants, the way your breathing is somehow even as if you’re trying to keep yourself calm. So calm, so pretty, but he knows how needy you are. He shouldn’t, but he does, and he uses it to his advantage. 

You’re the one who moans this time upon feeling that little twitch of his cock urging you to grab. And he helps you too, with the way he guides your hand under the front of his pants further, forcing your fingers to grab and grope the thick of his cock, uncomfortable and pressing between his briefs and undone zipper. 

“Still, you’re just looking.” Sunghoon comments, pressing his hips forward slowly and gently. “I’m right here.” He continues to explain the situation to you, as if you’re not experiencing it. “You need me to show you how to touch me too?”

You hesitate with a groan caught in your throat. You’re still processing the size difference that you feel now versus what you saw. Bigger. Thicker. Heavier than you would have expected against your palm. Honestly, you were so focused on the fact that Sunghoon’s cock is currently fucking forward against you that you almost forgot how to jerk a man off by yourself. 

His hand had been doing all the work for you, and you’re quick to take over. 

Sunghoon lends a very small gasp at the way you try to grasp, and instantly both of his arms shoot to the chair behind your head. He grips it, dropping his chin to the top of your head before thrusting a bit harsher into the grip you try to hold on him. 

“Harder.” He exhales, his cock twitching in your weak hold. “Grab me harder.”

You do, squeezing the bulge before intentionally adjusting it for him, allowing the head of his bulbous cock to peek from the top of his briefs. 

His relieved sigh is enough, you can’t help it. With his chin sat atop your head like this, you have no choice but to watch the way he moves his hips. Just like he did on camera. His abs flex with each movement, his arms grip behind you on the chair tighter, and you couldn’t pull your eyes away from his desperate body even if you wanted to. 

You thrust up too, as if your body craves what you’re already touching. And you do crave it, so much so that your clit aches against the denim you’re rubbing up against. Unfortunate that you wore these fucking jeans, honestly.

“Mr. Park–” You let out a small and frustrated cry, using your other hand to try and fail at unbuttoning your own pants. 

He hides his smile at the way you’ve reverted back to his professional title, but pays no mind to it because that’s what he wanted to hear in your voice that night. A desperate sound of his name, a plea, a cry. He can’t help but cling to it and bury that pretty voice into the darkest parts of his brain. A memory he’ll revisit time and time again after this. That sound, those pretty lips, this weak grasp you have. For the time being, it’s his. You belong to him right now. 

“Hm?” He hums out, fucking his hips forward while tilting his head back to look at you. “What is it, baby?”

Oh. You lost your train of thought. 

Thankfully, he seems to do the thinking for you as he shifts his eyes down and watches you try to both please him and remove your own pants. A cute sight to him, really. Someone who was just scolding him for wanting this, fumbling for more? 

So cute. 

He chuckles, pulling his hips back from your hand and grabbing it, unbothered by the loss of your touch. Instantly he intertwines his fingers with yours, and grasps your other hand from your pants to do the same. Both your arms raise by his guidance to the back of the chair before he releases them. 

You watch with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes as he lowers himself, right onto his knees before he unbuttons your pants for you and very politely pulls them from your legs. 

“This what you want?” He smiles, lying his cheek right against your exposed thigh and taking a deep inhale. It’s taking everything in him not to fawn over the woman who had him in his thoughts for the past however long, truly. 

Then again, he’s weak. He doesn’t even look up at you through his words and, instead, nuzzles his nose right up and against the seat of your panties before inhaling with a pleasant hum. “To have me finally touching this pretty pussy for you?” 

God damn, if you didn’t already know it was him on that camera, you do now. He speaks the same type of words, with the same confidence, the same sultry tone…

You can barely comprehend the way he slowly takes his own pants off because you’re too focused on the way he runs his lips across your skin with dirty thoughts spilling from them. Fingers tucked under either side of your panties in preparation before he eventually pulls them off of you. 

“Did you wear those pants to hide yourself from me?” He comments now with an amused tone. “Knowing you wanted me to take them off of you anyway?”

You shake your head at him, holding your breath. You did wear them to hide, but you never would have expected this situation to go in a direction involving his mouth anywhere near where you need it. Sure, you assumed he would have rejected you, you assumed that if it was him– he’d have been so disgusted with himself that he’d only gag at your presence. 

But no. You were bold in your words, and he seems to feed into that. 

“No?” He furrows his brows and lifts his head. Now lowering your panties much like he did for your pants. He’s quick with his next action, seemingly hiding his own desperation through playful comments at you. “Why not?” He adds, instantly pressing his thumb against your clit and fucking shining his eyes up at you with a semi-pouted mouth. 

You roll your eyes back at the sudden pressure, relaxing your shoulders and slouching down in the chair. Your legs spread further on instinct, granting him a full view of your sticky cunt parting open for him.

His eyes glance down, peering into the heat you offered once before ever knowing it was him looking. Clicking his tongue, he can’t help but bite his lower lip to hold himself back. He hopes you don’t notice the way his hand finds its way to his own cock, he really, really hopes you don’t see him act so pathetic over this. 

But you do. The moment your eyes roll back into place and get a look at him. One of his shoulders is moving, but the action is hidden by not only the chair, but his fucking face. He’s got his lips parted and he’s licking his lower lip. Slicking it up with his own saliva before–

“So quiet,” He hums with glistening lips, lending himself a light hold with his cock and pretending it’s you doing it for him. “You have nothing to say for yourself?” He adds now, inhaling once more the scent of your slick dripping for him as he leans in just a bit more.

“Oh–!” You yelp slightly at the feeling of his teeth digging into the flesh just to the side of your core. He bites down harder and harder, licking the flesh between his teeth before sucking hard against it. The sweat and scent of your full-day at work does nothing to calm his raging cock. He loves it and it only grows his appetite for you. Licking, sucking, nibbling at the skin until he’s sure he’ll leave a nice, painful swell to rub against your panties later. Only then does he release your skin from his still-tasting mouth. 

The relief when he releases your thigh is short lived because he offers not even a full two seconds before you feel his mouth circle your clit. Like he can’t help himself, like he can’t tease you right now even if he wanted to. 

 A flick of his tongue sends a shiver down your spine straight to your toes and you can’t stop your legs from immediately wrapping around his head. You hear his muffled “mmf” when you do that, but he keeps you from apologizing for it because his free hand goes straight under your ass and scoots you even closer to his tongue. 

And if you didn’t already think Sunghoon knew how to use that mouth for more than just being a professional business man, you do now. With the way that same tongue that used to taste the morning coffee you’d bring him now tastes you. Deeply. 

He licks, flicks, and sucks every fold. Slurping up any dripping heat that slips out of you before pressing his tongue in and nuzzling his nose against your clit. He’s not quiet about it either. He moans with each lick, hums every time your legs squeeze around his neck, slurps and loudly sucks. 

It’s pornographic, it’s sexy, it’s–

Suddenly, you feel a sharp jolt shoot through you, having not even noticed his hand moving from your ass to your front, moving straight up under your shirt. His fingers immediately find your nipple and pinches hard. So hard that your previous moan only becomes prolonged. Grows louder, breathier. 

He pinches and massages your nipple with the intent to keep you loud for him. Office setting or not, he could give less of a shit about that right now. He ignores the strain on his wrist from your bra, he uses his other hand to grip himself harder, and you can’t help but squeeze him tighter between your thighs until you’re, quite literally, shaking.

Your hips are sliding against his face with each jolt of pleasure, practically riding him, and his cock is now entirely neglected because you can’t help but want more. You need more. And he gives it, by now releasing himself and keeping both hands on you. One holding the outside of your thigh, almost pushing you to squeeze tighter, the other incessantly abusing your nipple. 

He chokes out a moan through his messy movements, never quite knowing where to put his hands solely because he wants to touch all of you. His cock is just fine being neglected, he thinks, as he realizes just how much pleasure he gets from feeling you wrap yourself around him like this. 

It feels better than jerking himself off. 

“Mr. P–” You sigh out, still not quite used to actually calling him his name, but the sound of it reminds you time and time again how wrong this situation is supposed to be. 

You’re sitting on this soft chair, pussy being spread apart by a tongue none other than the man who signs your paychecks. And just this morning you were terrified of him ever even getting a glimpse of you without pants on? God, how stupid could you be? You should’ve been chasing this man’s touch since the day you looked at him for the first time. 

“Fuck–” You moan out for him, brain spitting thoughts at you as each second passes. The danger of this, the fact that he genuinely got off to you before you knew it was him. The secrecy of his perverted thoughts and actions…it’s all so… “So, you’re so – hot.”

You feel him laugh, kissing the pulsing hole of your pussy when he pulls his tongue back to swallow. And for just a few moments, he turns his head, gripping your thigh with his teeth once again before speaking back to you, muffled by the hot skin. 

“Yeah?” He laughs, now pulling his hand from your bra and lifting to your chin, pointing your gaze down at him, forcing you to see the way your thighs nearly suffocate him against your pussy. “Then keep your eyes on me.”

And you do, especially when he uses both of his hands now, nudging them between your legs and forcing them from his shoulders. He rests your legs on the arms of the chair instead and flicks his eyes up at you. 

“You watching?” He makes this a point, blowing a small breath of air straight at your clit before receiving a dazed and slow nod from you. “Keep your legs open too.”

That’s the last thing he says before his mouth is full again, sucking your folds between his teeth before tucking his tongue right back into your hole. He tastes for just a few moments before you feel those same lips on your clit. He lets it throb in his open mouth as he listens carefully to your little sounds, especially now that he’s sliding his fingers into you. 

You gasp, holding your breath at the feeling. His fingers slide in, reaching deep before he scissors them open. And all you feel from it is pleasure. You can’t help that your eyes roll back again, but you do try to keep your gaze fixed on his. With his eyes so rounded, blinking up at you with his strong jaw moving with each swallow of his own muffled moans. 

He sucks your clit, fucks your cunt open, and relishes in the way he will soon get to splay you across his desk and really let you have it. 

And he does this for a few minutes, though in your head it goes by so fast that you nearly get whiplash from the way he pulls back with a wet sound and grins at you.

“Aw, baby–” He coos at the face you make, seemingly disappointed to lose all stimulation at once, but he’s quick to lift to his feet and lean back over you. 

Oh, his cock. It’s right there. 

Oh.

His face– 

“You’re so fucking wet right now.” He murmurs against the corner of your mouth with a raspy whisper, easily and without warning slipping two of his fingers right back into the heat that he just denied himself of licking more. “You hear that?” He continues with a sharp toothed bite to your lip. “How wet you are?”

You groan at the way he slams his fingers in, out, in, out, in…He keeps them there, pressed so far into you that you can physically feel the way your pussy tries to push him out again.

“Could slip it in right now–” He moans out at how tight you clench just his fingers. “Fuck, could be so deep in you.”

Your face feels hot as a bashful feeling overtakes you. His voice hits so much harder when you feel his breath along with it. His fingers, his cock right up against you. You want him to slip it in. To stuff his cock in you so fast, no room to adjust, not a second to even catch your breath. 

God, you need it right now. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a real person touch you, you can’t help that you feel so desperate. The clench isn’t on purpose, your body tells him all he needs to know, all while he tells you all you could only wish to hear fall from someone’s lips.

And not just anyone. His lips. 

You shoot your arms around his neck and it's not really intentional but– an actual kiss. You need it. 

He seems pleased by it though, with the way his tongue immediately asks for more. One hand moves to brace your cheek, the other still fucking into you so good that you can’t keep a single moan down. He takes full control of the initiated kiss solely because you kissed him first. Almost hungrily, he licks into your mouth with his own muffled groan, encouraging you to keep being pretty like this. Just so you can see what he’ll do to you. 

And, damn. He guides your body like a puppet, stiffening his shoulders when he licks into your mouth and threatening to pull away by raising  himself up just a bit. He knew you’d chase the kiss, and you do. You lift with him, your ass lifting from the chair just to keep his tongue against yours, and he takes the elevated position and angles his hand just a bit. There, his fingers fuck into you harder, faster, so much fucking deeper until– you feel his fingers stop at a painfully deep spot inside of you. 

He pulls back from the kiss, looking down between your bodies, and your eyes follow his gaze. Right there, he’s placed his knee up against his own wrist, forcing his fingers to remain deep and unmoving in you. 

You take in a sharp inhale, seeing the way he lets your body fall back to the seat of the chair, only forcing him to skew his fingers and– “Oh, god!”

You moan out so suddenly that it even shocks him for a moment, but he takes your weakness and uses it to his advantage. Quickly, he licks into your moaning mouth, tickling his fingers upwards, pulling even more animalistic sounds from you. 

“Yeah?” He whispers frantically, so turned on by the way your entire body stiffens. “Right there?” He continues, leaning his full body weight forward with his knee, wincing at the way he presses his cock against anything he can find in the process, just to get you off right here, right now. 

You nod just as frantically, toes curling, arms shooting to the chair in a form that should appear as discomfort, but really you’re just bracing yourself through the tensing of your muscles before all of them relax and pulse at once. 

Your ears pop, but you can still hear your desperate cries of his name somewhere distant. You can even hear him, humming and encouraging your orgasm. You wish you could hold your eyes open to see him, to grab him and force him to fuck his fingers hard into you. God, you could take it right now. You could take just about anything to heighten this feeling of stars bursting behind your eyelids. 

Somehow though, it’s like he knows. Half-way through your orgasm, you feel the weight between your legs shift and his fingers start moving again. Still, your eyes are squeezed shut, and you can't help but to lunge forward and hug against his neck, clinging to him through the prolonged orgasm that his fingers alone have brought to you. 

“Squeezing me so tight–” Sunghoon groans, unsure of if he’s referring to the way your needy cunt crowds his fingers, or the way you cling to him like a lost pet, begging for him to never leave your sight. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.”

You hear those words over any of his others. So clear in your head as you snap your head up and look at him. You see him lower his gaze, but your grip doesn’t quite allow him to actually look down at you. Not when he has to physically hold you up anyway. Still, he looks amused up there, knowing that single compliment must’ve hit somewhere inside of you.

You’re not sure why, through all this, Sunghoon calling you pretty makes it so much more intimate. And even as your legs continue to shake, and you release your death grip hug on him, he keeps himself crowded up to you. He’s somehow out of breath just like you are, relishing in the calm silence of your post orgasm as he…Jesus.

It’s not just your imagination. Somehow, it is intimate. It’s the way he pulls his fingers out and both hands shoot to your face. First, he kisses you as if you’re a long lost love. Deeply, slowly. Then, he’s putting one hand at the small of your back, nudging his knee right back between your legs, and pulling you right up against him. 

“Who did you cum for?” Sunghoon asks, pulling back just to lick against your lips and stare directly down at you. “Say my name.”

You don’t hesitate, echoing out with a winced expression, still so out of breath while rubbing your clit to the expanse of his thigh. 

“Su-Sunghoo-Sunghoon-” 

“Yeah?” He encourages you, hearing his name heat his ears up. He moves his pussy-slicked fingers to your mouth while you cry his name, and easily presses your tongue down with them, sliding the digits further and further down your throat. “Sunghoon.” He says his own name. “Say it again.”

You gag around his fingers, unable to obey his demand. 

“Sung–” He inspects the way your tongue struggles against the intrusion in your mouth. “Hoon.” 

You swallow around them now, sputtering, tears now running down the outer apples of your cheeks. He watches you do it too, wondering how good that would feel if it were his cock you’re swallowing around. Knowing you’d probably do it for him if he wanted to right now. 

But…he needs more than that. Despite how delicious you look while gagging, his cock has been neglected and he needs to fuck out the stress from the past however long you’ve been avoiding him. It’s like his brain breaks with the action as he watches you take his fingers in whatever way he offers. You let him do whatever he wants. You’re obeying. 

“Up.” He suddenly says, pulling all physical contact with you away as he turns, steps out of the pants restricting his ankles, and swipes every pen, file, and picture frame off his desk. “Come here, baby.”

You feel like you’re melted to this chair right now, in all honesty. You’re still trying to catch your breath just from touching his cock before he decided to make you see fucking stars, to think you can stand right now is insane.

So, when you don’t immediately hop up and throw yourself onto his desk, he turns to look at you. 

You’re splayed out, legs still spread, toes still curled. Your chest is heaving to breathe, eyes wild and lips so fucking kissable. 

“Oh, fuck.” He sighs to himself in realization, relishing in the image of you he’s only recently been craving. “Look at you.”

You lift your arm to hide your face, feeling apologetic for the way you’ve lost the ability to exist as an active participant right now. Even more apologetic when you glance down at how fucking hard his cock is. Raging hard, so pretty with the tip sputtering precum for god knows how long. 

He watches you stare, and lends you a few moments to catch your breath by gripping it himself. Leaning himself against his desk and twisting his wrist with a tight grip at the base. 

“Is this how you looked at me when I did this before?” He asks, flicking his wrist still with each drag. “So out of it, you look like such a mess, babe.”

You find yourself humming a confirmation to him as you watch, almost reverting back to who you were during that first session. Unseen, only heard, all while you got to see him pleasure himself to almost nothing. You gave him nothing. 

You’ve still only given him nothing. 

And so, very slowly, you force yourself to stand on shaking legs to take those two strides to his desk. Something inside of you tingles when he drops his cock and opens his arms for you, like a good boss would do in this situation. Supporting your unbalanced weight, letting you walk into his comforting grasp. 

“Said my name so pretty, you know.” He comments gently when he holds you close to him. Hands reaching down from the grip around your waist just to grab both of your fleshy ass checks and squeeze them. “You want more, yes?”

He’s quick to the point, only allowing the short and sweet moments to last just enough for them to stick in your head. Just enough to have questions about his actions. Just enough to give him anything, everything, he could want if it involves your body.

You nod almost shyly, dipping your head down and leaning against his chest. 

“Let's get this off of you then.” He smiles with a gentle voice, reaching to the hem of your shirt and pulling it straight up, watching how you lift your arms to help him. “Mhm–” He hums again, loving how the bra drags off of you along with the shirt. He lets both of his hands brush your nipples before he goes back to gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them. 

Spreading them so wide that, once again, you have to lift on your toes just to let him play with your body. Which, oh man. Always wearing his button down shirts, his blazers, his long-sleeve shirts. You can’t help it when you tug at the opened fabric of his shirt, asking silently that he shake it off. Wanting to see his arms, wanting to see the strength in them.

And he does it without hesitation, letting his hands fall from you just for a moment to shake his shirt off, only now hugging against you again and forcing a position change. He turns both of you so now you’re up against his desk, and he’s standing in front of you.

It’s easy for him to push you back in a kiss. Your legs open for him on instinct anyway, so he need not worry about prying those legs open again. You do just as expected when he pushes you too. Your ass hits the desk and you lift on your toes to sit on it. Your legs spread wider, making room for him to step even closer, cock right up against you when he closes any amount of distance, and still? He’s kissing you. 

All across your face, down your neck, back to your lips. And his hands just keep feeling. Massaging your tits, lending small taps to your ass, holding your chin, jaw, neck, and then…he runs them through your hair. 

The feeling is so good you almost forget how you’ve been trying to steal a glimpse of his flexing arms as he grabs at you. Goosebumps prickle and you let out a groan at the pleasure of it. He keeps one hand there now, smiling against his kiss to your ear. 

“You like being pampered?” He asks, now gripping a fist full of your hair and skewing your neck to the side. “Like being moved around like a puppet?”

Never once have you thought about your sex life that way, but when you think about it…maybe. After all, you did enjoy being told when and how to touch yourself, being allowed or forbidden from cumming. Now, with him quite literally moving you around with just a simple grip of your hair? Yeah. 

“By you–” You mutter out as you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling and feeling his tongue lap against your earlobe. 

“Just me?” He leans back, using that same grip in your hair to force you to look at him. “You’d give me that power?”

You nod against the grasp, lips falling open in a moan despite not being pleasured by anything aside from the stinging against your scalp as he pulls little hairs a bit too tightly. 

“You know–” Sunghoon starts now, pressing his hips forward, dropping his other hand to his cock and slapping it right against your weeping cunt. “If I had known you were this dirty...”He sighs out at the image in his head, thinking back to all those times he silently complimented you in his head. Back then, never would he have made comments about your legs out loud, or how your tits would look in certain shirts. Thinking back now, he’s always found you quite beautiful.

Quite fuckable, even. 

You listen to the silence waiting for him to continue, feeling the way he presses the hardened head of his length against your clit repeatedly. 

“I would have propped you up on this desk months ago,” He smiles now, leaning in real close to your ear as his grip in your hair loosens just a bit. “Could’ve had you moaning my name this whole time.”

Then, you feel it. The way he adjusts his weeping cock lower, prodding at your hole just a bit until his tip is entirely enveloped by your clenching walls. 

You swallow a moan and hold your breath, legs shooting around his waist and instinctively trying to force his hips to move forward, trying to force him to penetrate you deeper.

“Shh,” He coos out, holding his hips firm and not letting you control his movements. Then, he kisses just under your ear before peppering them all the way back to your lips. He doesn’t kiss you though, no, he chuckles at you for trying. Watching you let your tongue fall from your mouth, inspecting the way you’re entirely in tune for him right now. “You really want it, don’t you?” He whispers just above your lips. “Want me to fuck you right here, right now?”

You nod absentmindedly, legs still trying to force him to move, arms clinging under his biceps, head still forced into whatever position he keeps it in by the hair. 

“Please–Sunghoon.” You cry in a small voice, feeling as if you’re going insane by the feeling of his tip sitting comfortably in you. 

“You’re so cute.” He smiles, lending you another inch of his length before letting his hand fall from your hair. There, he grips your waist instead, letting a strained grunt fall from his own lips this time. He’s really trying to remain collected about this, and he’s unsure himself why he’s enjoying the act of teasing you like this. He feels like he’s teasing himself more than you right now, seeing as how it’s taking everything in him not to stuff his cock into you hard and fast. “So–so, fucking cute.”

You clench around the few inches in you and it appears that’s all he needed to break entirely. Is he controlling you, or are you controlling him? 

Honestly, who gives a fuck?

You feel his arms shake when he plants them at either side of you, pointing his cock straight into you and sliding in fully. There’s a groan from him that you want to hear so badly, but your own heart beat is thumping in your ears so loudly that you miss half of it. 

The stretch is delicious, and the fact that it’s Sunghoon doing this to you makes this all the more enjoyable. The man who you’ve seen day after day, now holding himself up on the desk you’ve signed papers on with and for him? All so he can angle his hips and shove his cock in? Just to let his arms frantically wrap around your waist? Just so he can scoot you forward on this desk, using your leaking slick to slide you back and forth in time with his hips? 

That groan you wanted to hear? He hasn’t stopped. He’s essentially, controlling the entire situation and when you half open your eyes to witness his face, you’re forced to roll your eyes back in a moan matching his. 

He’s fucking you so deeply right now that all you can do is moan, all you can do is forget the embarrassment, the victimization, the way he’s doing this to you despite the risk of reality crumbling. He could lose his job, you could lose yours, and yet still– he’s fucking you like he doesn’t care.

So, you choose not to care either in the form of grabbing his hair, forcing his head back, and attaching your lips right against his adams apple. You feel him swallow and breathe out a shocked sound, and then? You suck.

Intentionally, you suck, bite, and lick, harder and harder until there’s a deep purple mark there. He doesn’t even fight it, though you feel him try to move his head just to keep you from going too insane with it. You don’t care though, because still you feel his cock splitting you open, forcing you to adjust to him. 

“Ah,” Sunghoon lets out another breath with that familiar chuckle, “Marking me now?” 

You hum a confirmation as you move to a new spot on his neck, absolutely fucking marking him. Feeling devastated by the idea that he’d do this with any other employee. Or any other person in general. 

“Making me all yours, huh?” He continues with his cocky words, feeling the way your pussy clenches him tightly, dripping all over his desk. He’d let you make him yours, with or without the bruising from your mouth. 

“Mhm.” You hum pleasantly, letting out little yelps each time he slams into you. Letting out full moans each time his arms wrap around your waist tighter. 

You continue with the act, littering his pretty neck with your touch and loving how he just lets you. Knowing that he’ll show up at work tomorrow looking a bit tired, but glowing nonetheless, trying to hide all these marks with that tight-necked collar he likes to wear. 

“Whatever you want.” He breathes, letting his hips lose rhythm for just a moment as he feels his muscles tighten. “Fuck, you’re still so tight.” 

You feel like you’re on top of the world as he compliments you, to the point you’re not sure when you’ll cum because your whole body has seemingly been feeling euphoria anyway. Everything feels good, even if his cock reaches deep enough to cause little jolts of pain. The sound of the desk scooting back through the force of his hips is enough to make you take it. Enough to squeeze your legs around him tighter, enough to clench, enough to– forget what you’re doing and let yourself fall into it with him.

Your head falls back from his neck and you pant out little half-calls of his name with each thrust. Your legs loosen from around him too, but his grip on your waist only pushes you back on his desk. Until he’s leaning forward so hard with each thrust that suddenly your back meets the cold wood.

Sandwiched between him and his desk, he follows the action, his hands quickly moving from your waist to your tits, pushing them together just so he can nuzzle his face between them.

There, you look at him. You really look at him. 

What a messy, messy, man. Always so pristine during working hours, now looking so wrecked and out of it as he chases a pleasure that you hope only you can give to him. 

“Mr. Park–” You sigh out in a pleasant voice, watching the way he sucks your tit into his mouth before his eyes open wide just so he can look up at you through each thrust. “Harder.”

You can physically see the way his eyes darken when he pops off from your tit, hands now going back to the desk as he hovers over you and intentionally rolls his hips. 

You feel his cock loosen you up painfully before he intentionally fucks into you. Dragging all the way out, just to push forward in a deep and painful thrust. Over and over again, all while he’s staring straight into your eyes.

As you look up at him, you see the intent in his face. The way he wants to give you exactly what you want. Sweat shining from his cheeks, his neck littered with pretty colors. Oh, he’s actually heavenly when he fucks. 

Better than what you thought that guy on camera would have been. He’s not nonchalant like he was when he was performing. He’s entirely in tune with you and what you want. Like what you want is what he wants. 

You can tell he’s paying no mind to his own face or expression, blatantly putting all of his thoughts into how he’s pleasuring you, his eyes searching your face to tell him he’s doing well. To tell him you feel good, to tell him you’re close or–

“Fuck–” He sighs out, teeth tracing his bottom lip as he glances up, keeping pace with the way he’s been plunging into you. “I can’t keep looking at you,”

You smile, feeling dazed and far away. It feels like it’s just you and him. You’re not in his office, on a desk, or doing anything you shouldn’t be doing. 

“You hear me?” He drops his body weight on you again, letting his hips move freely as he chases and chases. “I’m so close.”

Oh. 

“Then look at me.” You huff out, now shooting a hand between his flexed abs and simply…touching your clit once.

 “Oh–shit.” 

It hits you so fast. Just a simple touch causes your pussy to clench Sunghoon so tightly that he mimics your sound. 

“Ah, fuck- fuck,” His voice sounds frantic as he tries to pull out, only to feel your legs shoot back around him. This time, he lets you force him to stay. He lets those legs of yours push him back in, so deep that he knows he can’t fight. “No, no–” He chokes out, uncaring if his hips show you that he’s lying with his words. “I’m cumming– I need to–”

“Stay!” You shake beneath him but your voice sounds pleading, pressing once more to your clit before letting it go. You clench him again, essentially letting your body finish him off. Letting those clenches squeeze him so tightly, making sure he couldn’t fathom ever wasting his cum. “Don’t pull out.”

He doesn’t. In fact, he presses impossibly deeper, trying to bury his cock into you to the point it even pains him. Arms shaking as he tries to hold himself up again, only to drop his lips to yours under his own weight. His hips are so tense between your legs, his cock is so stiff that you can feel each pumped release, and still you’re experiencing your own euphoria through it. 

To the point your toes are curling and you barely notice the way you leave welts across his back from your fingernails through the intense orgasm. To the point his slack lips against yours feel more natural than anything else. Not kissing, just close. So close that–

He kisses you. 

After it’s all said and done, he still kisses you breathlessly. Passionately almost, clinging to you as his cock twitches as it grows flaccid inside of you.

He doesn’t pull out, he just…kisses.

And as you lay against his wooden desk, body coming down from the pleasure you’ve felt more than once within the past hour, all you can do is let your brain think on its own. Without shame, without embarrassment or anxiety. 

You thought Sunghoon would have been in control the whole time. Teasing you, maybe even making this experience more painful than it needs to be. But no, he…

He’s soft. Gentle, almost. 

Only now do you recognize that as badly as he probably wants to appear harsh, like the confident man he is on camera, you think he needs something else. Not just power, not just money or control. Not even just fucking. 

You think…maybe, Sunghoon needs connection. 

Intimacy. 

And that’s proven when he does finally stand on his own buckled knees, pulling you up with him into a hug where he still kisses you. Up until he takes that shirt you unbuttoned and holds it between your legs, scratching the back of his neck with a shy glance at you. 

“Sorry for the mess.” He echoes in a meek voice, holding that shirt firm against you. “Guess I just couldn’t help myself.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Days later, you find yourself in his bed. Which should have been expected probably. Still doesn’t change the fact that every few hours, you remind yourself the reality of the situation.

It’s not just any bed you’re in. It’s Sunghoon’s bed. 

“Oh, right. The promotion.” Sunghoon suddenly calls out mid-episode. 

You’ve been here with him all day. To the point neither of you bother to put on clothes now because you know the spark will come back at any given time and you’ll be all over each other again. Still, lazing in his bed with him on a Saturday afternoon is nice. 

“I’ve been a bit occupied but– the interviews for the assistant position has been pushed back a bit due to you not coming to work.  I was supposed to notify you when you got back, but you know, we had priorities–” 

Sunghoon sighs, embarrassed. It’s nice actually, seeing him in his natural element. Allowing you to see him as more than just the guy that wears a suit and tie every day at work. 

“Unrelated to us…doing this, but, you’re up for the interview. Just need to schedule it with me. If you still want to be my assistant, I mean.”

“Oh, I can only imagine what that could entail.”

Sunghoon seems offended by this remark as he pulls back with furrowed brows.

“Excuse me?”

“Did you fuck the last one too?” You give him a playful smile, prodding at his soft-skinned chest.

“Absolutely not?!” 

“You’re still gonna fuck me too though, right? Even if I’m constantly having to nag you for signatures and meetings?” 

Sunghoon stares at you before smiling. 

“Well, let's see if you get the job anyway. Rhonda from Marketing is applying too.”

You lend a half-joke gag at him. 

“Is it too forward to ask for special attention for the position along with a sexual favor?” You tread the thin line. “I’m half joking but wouldn’t it be like…normal for us to be seen around each other at work if I’m working a job that requires it?”

Sunghoon thinks hard.

“You’re really asking to fuck your way up the ladder?”

“Aren’t you the one who offered it so I wouldn’t tell your dirty little secret?” You narrow your eyes at him. “But no, I’m asking for the job I’ve been trying to earn for ages. Besides, I’d still fuck you anyway.”

“Fair.” Sunghoon thinks harder still. “Rhonda would probably find out too, if she were to get the position anyway, considering my assistants are often intertwined in my personal business as well.”

“Oh, I’m personal business now?”

“Babe, my hand has been on your tit for an hour now.” 

Well, he’s not wrong.

“Rhonda is really close with HR too…” You trail off, feeling a bit anxious. “I think she’d hold it over both of us if she found out.” 

“In all fairness, you’ve been considered for the job more than a few times the past few months. Rhonda only applied during your two week avoidance of me. The reason she’s even up for the position is because my boss thinks you’re too flaky.” 

Oh, so you have a chance with or without putting his dick in your mouth again?

“Who else has applied?”

“Confidential.” Sunghoon shrugs. “I still have to follow company rules even if we’re breaking a few of them right now. What I can tell you is, over fifteen other candidates have already been phased out by me personally.” 

You pause.

“Why?”

“Bad matches, mostly. Two of them have been caught talking shit about me through the company emails, and the others? Many outside applicants, all freshman college students with strict schedules.”

“Being my assistant is not an easy job, and even before all of this, you’ve practically been doing the job already, better than the current assistant I have.”

You damn fucking right you have.

“How many are still in the running?”

“Two.”

Oh, this job is soooooo yours. 

“Just, one more thing.” Sunghoon sighs. “If you get this job, we cannot be fucking in my office. No sexual stuff at work. We can take lunch together, or I’ll bring you home after work, but absolutely nothing at work.”

Oh, he thinks you want him that badly? 

“Who says I need to fuck you during work hours anyway? I know how to control myself.”

“It’s not you who I’m worried about.” Sunghoon looks away, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah?” You smile. “You gonna be calling me into your office just to torture yourself?”

“Oh, absolutely.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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[jayparked]

texts with boyfriend yang jungwon

PAIRING: yang jungwon x female reader GENRE: crack, smut-ish ; mdni AU: established relationship WARNINGS: in the words of the wise ronnie "THE WAY [THIS] MATCHES HIS FREAK", everyone a lil bit horny here, kill john lennon joke from that one south park episode, he's really dramatic for no reason, pet names, ipad kid jungwon SNAIL TRAIL: HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUNGWOOONNNNN 🥺i'll never forget when i first saw jungwon's iconic "strawberry with chocolate video" in a 'iconic kpop lines' video on tiktok. when i saw that clip i was like "idk who that is but i fwu heavy i'll protect you with my life." and now here i am making content for him 🥺 jungwon does sosososo much behind the scenes for little recognition. the way he is one of the best dancers and has one of the most unique voices in the entire industry yet steps back to let his other members shine does not go unnoticed. he's taken on so much responsibility at such a young age and i love how he still gets to be silly with us and his members despite having that leader role. please never stop being who you are jungwon, you are such a unique soul that i will cherish every chance i can. thank you for being such an inspiration, place of comfort and peace, and a reliable person to fall back on whenever i need a good laugh. i always said it seems like this is jungwon's first life that his soul is experiencing and what an honor it is to watch him shine. happy birthday my peace 💛 and as always, shout out to my gang @sungbeams @dazzlingjaeyun @heejamas thank you guys for helping me form my ideas and for looking these over before i post them! i appreciate you guys so much

♡ pls like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! ♡ masterlist ♡ all rights reserved jayparked 02/08/25 do not copy, repost, or translate

[obeymissmaddy]

Click here to listen to my oldd intro.

Click here to listen to my oldddddd intro.

update: I encourage alllll subs to make captions in devotion of me. It's a great way for you to show me how much you adore me, my permanently owned subbiesssss.

Turn on notifications for my posts. Allow me to fully mold you/ warp your mind. This is a part of your training protocol, my permanently owned servants/toys. 🔔🔔🔔

update for all the pup subs, betas, sissies, femsubs, cucks, finsubs, fincucks, hypnotoys, etc. etc. etccccccccccccccccccc. that keep asking me if I'll own you: Here goes, ALL of you are welcome to serve me, darlings. If you exist, I'll gladly put you to use and own you. Welcome home, my permanently owned lil hypnotoys. ✨

It's only a matter of time before I own 100k slaves, darling. Come join my slave and simpy army today.

How to join my slave, simp, and hypnotoy army? It's very, veryyy easy, actually.

Step 1: Change your username to something that shows your devotion to me. Check all the fan and simp accounts that comment on my posts for inspiration if you need some. Make it fun. Be creative, show your personality, my eager little toy. You are about to join them in a moments notice, my eager & permanently owned servant.

Step 2: Then, make this gif your new header. Mark yourself as my property. Change your bio to a beautiful one that shows your devotion to me, my simpy slave. If your profile pic isn't cute already, go change it to a fun or cute one, my eager little slave.

Step 3: pin this post right here, and finally, once you have done all of that, start commenting on all of my posts from this moment on. Only from today on. Make your comments unique and beautiful. Make yourself stand out from the crowd. Try to outdo all your fellow slaves n simps, and maybe, maybe if you are a good slave, I may end up giving you some special attention one day. Keep showing devotion. The more consistent you are and the longer that you serve me, the more you'll stand out. If you want my attention sooner, you can send me your initial right now, my weak lil toy. Come back here at least once a day, my permanently owned simp/hypnotoy.

Turn on notifications for my posts. Allow me to fully mold you/ warp your mind. This is a part of your training protocol, my permanently owned servants/toys. 🔔🔔🔔

update: I removed the payment links from my bio. DM me: ''I wish to serve.'' and I will dm you my payment link. Once you have sent me your initial tribute I will allow you to begin your journey of being my permanently owned little subby/toy, darling.

Click here to find out what a ''lil maddy'' is, my adorable lil maddy. Hahah.

DM me: ''Please Mistress!'' if you can't afford your initial and I will put you to use in different ways. I'm claiming you as mine right now darling. I'm claiming you as my slave right now. No matter what, you are about to join my slave and hypnotoy army, right now, my eager little simp. Check the comments on all of my posts. You will join them next. Your training protocol is about to officially begin once you've DM'd me.

Welcome home, darling. Don't message me until you have listened to and followed the instructions I give you in my intro audio above. Sit back, relax, put in earphones or put on headphones and let me guide you straight into my lap. Your journey with me starts now. The most profound domination in the world awaits you once you are mine, pet.

If you long to be my paypig or fincuck, I've got a different intro for you right here. ✨

Once u click on ''Keep reading'' you accept your complete and total surrender to me, subby. I challenge you to not click it, but we both know you can't help yourself, lmao.

See? Hahah. You are beyond predictable. So simple. Such a good and eager little simp for me. Ur now officially mine forever, darling. My permanent servant. My permanently owned toy. My litttle simp. Ur so easy. It's adorable. Mine now, tomorrow and forever. I make the rules. You just obey them. How funnnnn hahah. Welcome to forever, subby.

First of all, I'm the #1 caption domina, the #1 hypnodomme and the #1 findom/ femdomme in the entire world. No matter what, no matter who you are, I'm the domme you have been looking for your entire life in every single way. I mean that darling. Our dynamic will be one of a kind. I'm very open minded and own all sorts of subs. My fav is turning you into nothing but my obedient toy. I'm here to take you to brand new depths of submission. Oh, and all my captions aside, what you'll experience once you've sent your initial will far outshine anything on my tumblr page. Like I said in my intro, they were just one part of guiding you to complete surrender to me and me alone, my good little toy. Your new life is starting right now. You are about to truly submit.

Once you have submitted, you'll be able to earn the greatest and most intense hypno recordings/ files you will ever get the honor of experiencing in your entire life. I am the actual greatest hypnodomme in the entire world and you are incredibly lucky to have found me, my obedient and permanently owned little toy. Once you have earned listening to them, you'll wish you had found me much, much sooner. Welcome home, my perfectly obedient and good little toy. What I do isn't just the most real, raw and profound domination in the world. You will submit to me in ways you can't even imagine. I will take you to depths you didn't even know existed. I will give you a personal experience. A journey. One that has been waiting for you your entire life. Your submission to me is the thing you have been looking for.

Because some subs didnt realize the bar at the top of this post is audio, I'll just say it here once time: The little bar above is audio. The bar with my ''OBEY'' logo. Yeah, that bar lol. Click on the little arrow on the left of it and put your sound on for it to start. I had a bunch of subs message me that they didn't realize it was audio even when I clearly stated so above, so just mentioning it here one final time hah.

Alright, now go on and listen to it if you haven't already, my little subby. I'm here to take you for a spin. Not just any spin, the wildest adventure of your entire life. Of you entire subbbbbbby little life.

From this moment on, I'm your owner. I make the rules, you just obey them, darling. There is no reality in which you aren't owned by me.

Whether you are a beta, (fin)cuck, sissy, vanilla sub, hypnoslut or anything else. Whoever you are, Wherever you are from, I'm here for you, darling. You may call me Mistress Maddy, Miss Maddy, Mistress, Miss or Mommy. All of those are fine by me. I so look forward to getting to know you, darling. I actually mean that. It's always fun and exciting to get to know a brand new toy. Thats you, subby, hehe.

Welcome home, subby. You've finally found your true calling in serving me. That thing you are feeling rn is my complete control over you setting in. Only one tiny little step awaits you. You are almost there.

It's more than clear by now already but I'll just write it here either way. I don't do bland, boring or vapid domination. I'm here to take you deeper than anyone ever has or ever will. Whether you are looking for some quick fun or a permanent/ long term domme/sub dynamic, I'll give you the most exciting experience of your life. I'm the most fun, brilliant, gorgeous and powerful domme you will ever have the honor of serving darling. You know what you have to do now. Serving me will be a true experience unlike any other. Welcome to your true calling.

Sending me your initial will not only allow you to DM me, but will officially begin your journey as my permanently owned servant. You were always meant to be my permanently owned servant, subby. But you won't just be my servant, we'll have A LOT of fun together. So much fun hahah. I look forward to it already. What are you wating for. So many fun surprises are ahead. You'll be able to earn your first hypnosis recordings from me and so much more as soon as you have sent me your initial. The most powerful and intense ones you will ever have the honor of experiencing. I'm the most exciting experience of your life. Hop on in darling, you are ready. I'm what you have been waiting for. You finally found me, my permanently owned subby.

Oh, and btw, on a small final side note, my initial should honestly be much, much, muchhh higher for the personal attention and exciting experiences that you'll get to have to honor of experiencing with me. Like I said, what you'll experience with me will be the most exciting and rewarding experience of your entire life. But, I want all subs to be able to submit to me which is why my initial tribute amount is only $100. Talk soon, my good, obedient, and permanently owned subby.

Once you have sent your initial message me: ''Initial sent, Mistress.''

If you're reading this, DM me: ''Wow!'' and I might give you a very special surprise sooner than later, my eager little toy. You are about to be permanently owned by me.

[heegyukeluv]

CHAPTER ONE: you&me

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: Each new cycle marks a new chapter in life’s story. You, once so sure of your choices, found yourself questioning everything when you met Heeseung, someone too perfect to be real. He adapted to you effortlessly, and it felt just as natural for him as it did for you. Now, you and Heeseung were starting a new chapter together, one that would unfold shared.

my's note: sub hee for my one and only babi!!! HOPE YOU LIKE IT LOVE!!!

warnings: university teacher y/n and university teacher heeseung, pet names (baby, babe, love…), yn is a menace ngl, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, SUB HEE!!!, protected and unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (m), nipple play (m), handjob, blowjob, cowgirl/riding, overstimulation, edging, drooling a lil, fingering (f), bathroom sex, reader calls hee ‘good boy’, lowkey teacher kink but not really he just uses the word once and in a teasing way i swear… lmk if i missed something!

wc: 33k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @tinycatharsis

No matter how consistent your routine had become, there was always a flutter of nerves accompanying you as you crossed the tall iron gates, the friendly greeting from the security guard sounding like a familiar melody to your ears.

It was nothing like the first time, of course. You could vividly recall the ache in your stomach from the sheer nervousness and the fear of making mistakes or embarrassing yourself. Your legs trembling, your eyes darting everywhere, and even your voice had betrayed you, faltering when you tried to interact with your superiors. But now, there was a core of pleasant anticipation – an excitement for the unknown.

After all, teaching might be routine, but every lesson offered a fresh opportunity to explore the day.

You had always embraced an open, flexible teaching style, striving to be the kind of professor who not only imparted knowledge but also genuinely listened to students and their unique perspectives. This approach wasn’t just a personal trait – it had significantly enhanced your professional reputation.

In fact, it had earned you a place on the director’s radar, leading to better positions in a surprisingly short amount of time.

In the academic hierarchy, older and more experienced educators typically had first pick of the subjects they would teach at the start of the year. Newer teachers were left with the “leftovers” – the so-called duller, broader courses that, in some ways, stifled creativity.

But you had made the best of it. You worked tirelessly, and in just two years, you achieved remarkable goals that reshaped how the director viewed you. Now, you held a slightly higher position with more freedom in choosing your courses. Of course, there were still teachers ahead of you who claimed the more prestigious subjects, the ones you could only dream of teaching someday.

It was the beginning of a new year, which meant an influx of fresh teachers. In your field – psychology – this was relatively rare. The college’s prestige meant they only hired truly promising names, which resulted in a very niche demand for positions. This, in turn, created a noticeable lack in areas like yours, where teaching needed to be particularly well-structured and thoughtfully delivered.

This semester, your schedule included Social Psychology, Personality Psychology, and Statistics.

Statistics was still a taboo subject in the field – many students avoided it like the plague, and you had been one of them as well, both as a teacher and as a learner. Yet, much to your dismay, the “dreaded course” had been assigned to you and you couldn’t do anything other than accept your fate.

And you did embrace it as a self challenge, to think beyond the usual in order to offer something engaging and valuable other than the basic 1+1 concepts that so often felt lacking. 

As you made your way, you didn’t expect any new hires in your department at all, as no one had informed you otherwise. So your surprise was undeniable when you walked into the faculty lounge and immediately spotted an unfamiliar face – or rather, a back.

It appeared to be a man, his posture slightly hunched forward, his broad shoulders and apparent firm back hinted at his height, significantly taller than you.

He was dressed in the typical attire of a freshly hired professor: slacks, dress shoes, and a neatly tucked-in shirt beneath a blazer that, if you were honest, hugged his frame almost too perfectly.

He was also murmuring something under his breath, a sort of self-assurance mantra that sounded similar to: “You’ve got this. It’s fine. They’re just teenagers. Or young adults. It doesn't matter. You’re smart.”

With your curiosity picked, your steps led you to fully enter the room, the soft click of the door coinciding with your calm, yet friendly voice breaking the air.

“I used to say the exact same thing to myself.”

The man turned abruptly, now offering you a full view of his face as his hands froze mid-motion, still in the process of fastening his blazer. 

Wide, startled eyes locked onto yours, resembling a deer caught in headlights moments away from disaster, like he was doing something wrong. Maybe he felt like when you’re doing exercises in your room and your parents step in, the embarrassment flowing through every inch of your skin.

His lips, glistening in a shade of red, hung open in shock while quick, uneven breaths escaped them, a clear sign that the surprise had been mutual, though his seemed far more intense.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” you murmured, a slightly shy smile gracing the corners of your lips as you blinked, softening your features. 

Taking slow, deliberate steps, you closed the distance between you two, with the man now completely silent, but turned to face you entirely, his demeanor awkward and endearing in a way that tugged at something warm inside you. Something oddly.

“Y/N.” You extended your hand as politely as you could, ignoring the tingle on your fingertips as you waited for the ensuing touch. The man stared at your fingers adorned with beautiful rings for a brief moment before jolting and taking it in his with a careful grip, greeting back.

“Heeseung. Lee Heeseung.”

You couldn’t deny nor hide that his voice was somehow comforting, not too deep, not too high, just perfectly balanced to surprise you with how your heart picked up its pace at the sound.

His touch was different too; palm warm and slightly sweaty, likely from nerves, but you didn’t mind. If he was indeed a new hire, a little nervousness was to be expected. Not to mention the divergence of his steady and kind grasp.

The silence that followed as you released the handshake bordered on awkwardness, your eyes trying to focus on anything other than the man that now could be named as Heeseung. However, an unusual aura seemed to draw your attention back to him, like a silent hypnosis, magnetic, an irresistible force pulling you to trace the fragments of what was laid bare for you to drink in about his undeniable beauty.

And Heeseung took a moment to take in your appearance as well, shamelessly letting his gaze wander over your figure and consequently becoming unaware you did just the exact same thing. 

You wore fitted black slacks that subtly accentuated your thighs and waist, paired with a loose blouse tucked haphazardly into your waistband on one side. A casual yet stylish look, adequate to your job, and sufficient to drive some guys – Heeseung, in specific – to teeter the edge of losing his breath. 

One hand held your bag while the other toyed absentmindedly with the necklace around your neck, a gold watch wrapped around your wrist that stirred Heeseung’s acknowledgment about your liking for accessories.

You had your posture relaxed and seductive, even, as your piercing gaze drifted through Heeseung’s body. Attractive – undeniably so.

He looked like the kind of professor who would easily become a hit among the students – and maybe some other teachers – and you couldn’t help but wonder what and when rumors might start circulating about him.

Back in your day, you had been the subject of whispers yourself. At first it had intimidated you, not knowing how to take in the compliments and the murmurs around you, but you soon decided to switch it into confidence, growing more comfortable in your role with each passing day. It even helped you connect with your students in a way that felt natural and genuine, a give-and-take dynamic you had come to love.

“So… Heeseung,” you cleared your throat, breaking the mutual analysis with a sharp cut. The sound of your voice pulled his attention back to your face. You smiled at his flustered cheeks and innocent gaze. “You’re new here, I assume?”

“Yep. First day,” he replied with an obvious nervous sigh, nibbling his bottom lip before tilting his head with a curious expression. “Any memos?”

A soft hum was your initial response, paired with a thoughtful look as your eyes went towards a random spot to the side, most likely you were in deep thought to find the right answer. Heeseung mentally cursed himself for finding you cute with the subtle pout of your lips and the slight furrow of your brow that added to your charm.

At the same time, he didn’t judge himself too harshly. You were undeniably beautiful, and he was frankly surprised he was managing to have even this minimal conversation with you without much stutter.

“Don’t drink the coffee from earlier in the morning,” you finally concluded, nodding slightly to yourself. Heeseung narrowed his eyes to you before a smirk creeped on the corners of his mouth. “It’s awful. The one during the lunch break is much better.”

Then you then motioned in the direction of Heeseung’s chest with your chin, both your hands now firmly gripping your bag’s strap, because your fingers buzzed with a sudden need to be the one undoing his buttons.

“And maybe leave the top button of your shirt open, if you’re comfortable. If you’re too stiffly dressed, the students might see you as overly serious…” You paused abruptly, your eyes widening slightly, gesticulating amidst your awkward state. “Not that being serious is a bad thing! It’s just… you know. Teenagers. Appearances sometimes mean everything to them.”

Heeseung breathed out a soft laugh, his eyes curling into small crescents as he did. “Don’t worry, I get it. That was actually one of my concerns, to be honest.”

As he calmly spoke, his hands began to undo the buttons of his blazer, revealing the shirt beneath for your hungry gaze, as well as a small glimpse of his bare chest. For reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you found yourself momentarily distracted by the sight, an unwelcome heat rising to your cheeks because, yeah, you could tell by the face and part of the exposed neck that Heeseung had honeyed skin.

But damn. Was there a reason for him to be completely attractive? He probably had some terrible habit, or a major red flag, or was burdened with deep personal flaws, because a man that good-looking rarely had good character.

Snapping yourself out of it, you took a step back and forced a strained smile, more than ready to escape before your thoughts could spiral further, fearing your composure would crumble completely in front of Heeseung and ruin the first impression you made on him.

Not that you cared much about making a good impression, but he seemed to effortlessly bring out behaviors in you that were just a little beyond your control and definitely unusual from you.

“Well, enjoy your first day,” you said in a tone that hinted at goodbye, already tracing your path to the door. And when everything appeared to be falling into place, you casually let it slip, exuding a natural sense of sensuality. “I hope we’ll see more of each other around here.”

Unfortunately or not, Heeseung caught on right away. And to make matters worse, he mimicked your tone, a little more shy though.

“Thank you, Y/N. I hope so too.”

The following weeks at work went as normally as possible. Classes here and there, some students sharing personal topics with you because they felt comfortable, lunch breaks, and some free hours that always led you to the teachers’ office room to review your lesson plans and prepare for the upcoming ones, along with the daily reports you needed to write in short, concise paragraphs, just for bureaucratic purposes.

You had already filled out your syllabus for the semester, which was promptly reviewed and approved so you could start your journey in that academic year. But still, there was that unmistakable nervous feeling that seemed to follow you around.

Part of that sensation stemmed from personal anxiety, which you were able to slowly dissipate as you worked through your teaching plans, which is exactly what you were doing at that very moment.

The teachers’ room wasn’t usually filled with other professors because many preferred to occupy other spots on campus that offered just as much comfort, or even stay in their cars, claiming that they wouldn’t be disturbed in any way.

You had found yourself visiting the library and even an open area near trees and nature to catch up on your studies and lesson plans. But there, in that air-conditioned room, where coffee was free and easily accessible – and, by the afternoon, delicious – and a comfortable chair awaited, it seemed like the perfect place to try and get your head together.

There was something tangled inside you, something that didn’t seem to have a clear root, as if something clouded your ability to see what was causing you such distress. Everything seemed to revolve around the damn statistics class, which had become a growing source of stress in your planning.

Every time you thought about it, your head seemed to spin. You had taught it quite a few times, with the next class coming up in a few minutes and the sensation of lacking overwhelming you.

It almost felt pathetic, and it made you laugh without humor when you remembered your students asking how a psychologist like you could have moments of anxiety.

And then there was the part of the class where you would say that when you’re a psychologist, you don’t stop being human. Emotions, sensations, feelings – they all stay with you, even when you know relaxation techniques or how to listen to other people's problems.

Thinking about that calmed you a little. Reminding yourself that you’re human, that you feel and can feel the way your body decides to feel in certain situations. It’s natural to feel anxious about something beyond your control or something you’re uncertain about, and just admitting that is a step towards something that could bring relief.

Unfortunately, sometimes you can’t just ignore the situation, not when you’re a teacher who needs to take responsibility for the subjects you teach, since the future of your students passes through your hands every lesson and that alone carries a height of tons.

“Am I interrupting?”

Nothing had prepared you to hear someone’s voice weaving through your tormented thoughts, so your immediate response was to tense up and widen your eyes, your pulse increasing its beats significantly as your gaze lifted to meet the owner of your startle.

A breath escaped from your parted lips and formed a single name. “Heeseung?”

Your heartbeat sped up even more. 

The shock was evident in every part of your body, from the way you had stiffened entirely, to the clear flush on your face. Noticing your state, Heeseung chuckled softly.

“That’s me.”

Without a single word, your gaze instinctively swept across every detail of him, and you had to restrain yourself from succumbing to the impulse of simply drooling as you did so.

Heeseung was dressed casually, that little heads-up given him earlier the week lingered on the back of his mind long enough for him to abandon the idea of being too formal and dress more laid-back, without losing the air of vanity and elegance he enjoyed to carry.

Today, he wore a simple white dress shirt and black pants, ones that hugged his long legs with perfection. Gold-rimmed glasses rested on his nose in a ridiculously attractive way, framing his face with care, and his ears were adorned with equal gold earrings, gleaming like drops of sunlight, perfectly attuned to his skin as if they had been forged by the same fire, crafted to exist as one.

There was no reason for that man to be walking around so excessively hot like that. 

Noticing your silence and spaced-out look, as if you were somewhere else, Heeseung got worried.

“Is everything okay?” The question was softly thrown at you, while he settled into the chair in front of the desk where you were hunched over various papers.

You cleared your throat and straightened up, blinking in embarrassment while fixing the papers. You – and your environment – were a mess, and Heeseung wasn’t helping much so far.

“Uh… Kinda,” you forced a smile, struggling to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

Damn, how easy it was to be attracted to attractive good-looking men – a serious pleonasm. “I’m a little…” Your head tilted quickly to the side as you sucked on your teeth, hissing. “Overwhelmed?”

You had bumped into him in the hallways since exchanging names in the staff room, but always in a rush, stuck in your respective hectic routines, never having time to chat. 

There was this weight of curiosity about how he was adjusting, how he was handling the burden of being a newly hired professor at a university, if he had already shaped his persona for the academic context, among other things, that hovered over you.

Still, one thing was undeniable: he looked great, as always. And that made everything even more chaotic for you.

“With what?”

The way Heeseung asked carried a genuine air of interest, rather than superficial curiosity, the kind of just being polite or whatever. That alone was enough to make you feel comfortable opening your mouth and spilling all your anguish. He might have been newly hired, but he exuded an air of care that instantly put you at ease.

Out of habit, you bit down on your lower lip. It was a clear tell about a specific kind of nervousness that settled in your stomach whenever you were up to something, ready to dive into some mess, probably scheming. At least, that was what your friends always said about you in moments like these.

Heeseung noticed the movement immediately, his gaze fixed on the way your teeth pressed into what looked like an impossibly soft lip, which only served as an invite to his eyes to linger longer, refusing to let go. He couldn’t quite tell if it was the subtle gloss coating and glistening under the light, or its natural color, but some detail about it had him completely mesmerized with such a particular and random trait.

Heeseung considered himself someone ridiculously and pathetically drawn to specific details in people when he found himself captivated by them. There were plenty of other aspects of your figure that caught his attention – like the elegant curve of your collarbone or the way you always seemed to wear at least one accessory perfectly aligned with your outfit.

But in that very moment, your lips took center stage, basking in the spotlight of his focus.

Maybe it was because he had been wondering about their taste over the past few days, ever since your first encounter. Whether the softness they seemed to exude was as velvety as it looked. Whether they would fit seamlessly against his. Whether they would deliver that fleeting, cloud-like sensation they wordlessly promised to anyone paying close enough attention.

For that reason, he caught the exact way the pressure of your teeth against your lip eased and unraveled – a simple, subtle movement that somehow felt magnified under the lens of his gaze. And the reason the lip biting was undone was because it had been dissolved when you said something he completely missed.

“Sorry,” Heeseung shook his head, as though it helped his mind to snap back into reality. “Come again?”

You giggled at his adorableness, casually placing your hands on the table and fiddling with your ring.

“I asked if you know anything about statistics.”

Only then did Heeseung lift his gaze, praying that the warmth spreading through his cheeks and to the point of his ears was merely a sensation, not an obvious giveaway that he was embarrassed, exposing its redness. 

“Uh, it's... not really my thing,” he scratched the back of his neck, desperately avoiding your piercing stare.

How did something so simple manage to throw him off so completely? Maybe it was because you subtly leaned forward, closing the distance between your faces while maintaining an almost too confident air.

Everything about you screamed confidence. You carried yourself with ease. Your steps were purposeful, yet casual. You smiled effortlessly, but never lost your composure; you knew how to assert yourself without being stern. He had heard whispers about how amazing your classes were and how you effortlessly mastered every subject you taught. And on top of that, you were, quite simply, breathtaking.

“But do you think you could help me?”

Heeseung nearly choked on his saliva, finding it hard to swallow the nervous lump that grew down his throat. You briefly took notice of how prominent his Adam’s apple bobbed, and for some reason you wondered if he was sensible in that area. 

“Well, I guess... I could try. Can’t make any promises, though…” He answered with his voice sounding tentative and sincere. His eyes shifted to the papers scattered in front of you, then back to your face, that now held a hint of a cute smile.

A cute smile that hid something darker beneath it.

You cocked your head to the side ever so slightly, allowing your eyes to quietly travel across Heeseung’s features. He hadn’t been concealing his shameless gaze on your lips earlier, which triggered your natural instinct to take control – a role you relished.

The way Heeseung faltered in front of you was curious. The clear struggle to collect himself, to answer without his voice betraying him, trying desperately to maintain eye contact and failing adorably, only made you want to dive deeper into that kind of conversation, to dig out each reaction he managed to express before your presence.

What had started as a simple request for help between colleagues now bordered on something far more seductive.

“Don’t worry about it, Heeseung,” you made sure to let his name sound even more velvety, boldly placing your hand on top of his with the silent excuse of showing the papers in front of you. “I just need a little guidance. I feel like part of what I’ve planned for my lessons isn’t good enough.”

Ah, yes. Lessons. That was what you were talking about. For a brief moment, Heeseung wondered how the air between you had shifted so easily, from the awkward tension to something electric and tantalizing, stirring his heart to skip several beats in such a short amount of time. And it wasn’t the first time.

Even in your first meeting, the exchange of glances had been too intense for a mere greeting between coworkers.

“Hm,” Heeseung nodded, swallowing hard again because he hadn't expected the subtle touch of your soft hand on his. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but it definitely affected his body. “Let me see.”

When he took the papers into his grasp, he solely visualized smudges, scattered letters, and nothing that made sense to his poor dizzy head. Not because of the content – although he struggled with statistics –, but purely because of the weight of your gaze resting over him, analyzing every tiny reaction with a seriousness and intensity that felt too much to bear without wavering.

Heeseung felt like he was going to explode at any moment and couldn’t help the urge to escape the invisible strings that captured his entire being, each of them being held by your pretty fingers.

From the first time you met it should have been just another common interaction with a colleague – like it had been with Lia, Sunghoon, or Yunjin. A polite greeting, a quick “good luck,” followed by a kind smile and that was it. Except, with you, it wasn’t.

He remembers how the sentences you two traded didn’t leave gaps to develop things beyond the standard colleague relationship, even though something definitely was left open, unresolved. 

A flavor similar to craving settled at the back of Heeseung’s throat, like you were crafted specifically to intrigue him, sparking a quiet and relentless desire to keep you close, even if only to watch you from a certain distance.

He often caught himself looking for you throughout the day, whether in the cafeteria during his lunch break, where his curious gaze wandered over the other professors in the hope of spotting your face among them, or between classes, when he would seize a moment to head to the restroom and secretly wish to run into you along the way.

And he had, in fact, seen you a few times since that first day, mostly in the corridors – which, admittedly, were far from ideal. It was rare to find you in the faculty lounge, and even when he did, you always seemed to be in a rush – though, to be fair, so was he most of the time.

None of these fleeting encounters allowed for a proper conversation, the kind where he could ask you something personal and hear your assured tone as you answered, only fueling his curiosity further.

Heeseung wanted to know you. To uncover details that weren’t obvious to everyone else. Sure, many had seen the way you acted as a professor, but did they know your favorite movie? Maybe they did – but did they know why? 

He wanted to dive deep, to understand the layers of you. And he didn’t blame himself for being interested in a colleague. The only thing that might hold him back was the possibility of rejection if he dared to push too far – but even then, he figured it would be worth the risk.

The real challenge was finding the courage to even try.

Seeing you there now felt like a stroke of luck. He had dismissed his students early, and it just so happened that your free period coincided with his. What caught him off guard, though, was simply you. Captivating, magnetic, brimming with confidence.

There was no certain way to pinpoint whatever generated his enthrallment towards you; maybe the manner you behaved around the campus, exuding your unmistakable graceful confidence marked something profound, and so far unnamable, in him. Or perhaps how your hands carried your bag nonchalantly, wrists always packed with accessories that jiggled softly, creating a delicate melody as you walked.

Everything about you had an irresistible air, an atmosphere nearly too blinding, and perhaps that was the hardest part to loose his nerves around you.

“Heeseung?” 

Your voice calling his name was more than enough to bring his existence back to the harsh reality where he had to face you – and your mesmerizing form –, with expectant eyes that also showed somewhat a darker emotion. 

Heeseung didn’t expect his voice to sound so quiet and distant when he answered, let alone his eyes to glance up expressing the way he got lost, but he was far too gone to properly understand the scenario. 

“Yes?”

On the other hand, you were really enjoying the unfolding scene, where Heeseung clearly fought his demons in order to keep his composure. Toying with the devil, you pushed further.

“Is it good?”

“What?” He was too adorable for your heart to handle, blinking his big bambi eyes in confusion before the whole skin of his face turned into a faint crimson tone. “Oh, yeah. Right,” he finally cleared his throat, moving his gaze back to the paper. “I… Mmh, I’d change this part,” he pointed to a specific paragraph where you also had highlighted it; automatically, you moved a bit closer so you could see it with him. “To something more dynamic, like… Using examples?”

You leaned in just enough to make him glance at you nervously, your voice dipping into an unmatched softness. “Examples, huh? What would you suggest?”

Heeseung shrugged and averted his gaze, his brow furrowing deeply as he struggled to come up with an appropriate example. Yes, he had read your lesson summary amidst the chaos in his head. And yes, he wanted to help you. But you – simply you – with your sweet citrusy scent, your effortless, self-assured demeanor, and the way your body leaned closer and closer to his, were utterly suffocating his straight thoughts.

You noticed how he pouted slightly as he focused, which left you experiencing a weird fondness, melting in your chest. 

A few seconds later, his gaze flickered between you and the paper. “Uh, maybe you could tie it to something relatable, like…” He paused, hoping his racing mind wouldn’t betray him too much. “You could compare it to... say, a study on preferences. Like how many people prefer... uh, dating versus not dating,” but of course, his brain had to go there. “I mean– You could show the numbers and... interpret what they reveal, use graphs and tools to illustrate how your students might apply statistics in psychology, for research and similar– Damn, sorry. I don’t need to explain that part to you. Definitely not.”

His rambling was both amusing and endearing, and you had to summon strength from the depths of your soul not to reach out and pinch his adorably pouty cheeks. Fuck it, why did he have to be like this?

“I got it, yeah,” you cut in with a low laugh. “That I can do. Thanks, Heeseung.”

His name rolled off your tongue like honey, leaving him flustered yet oddly satisfied at the sound of your appreciation. Heeseung started to wonder if you might need more help, just to hear you say his name again along with a few praises.

You softly took the paper back and jotted down a note where he had demarcated, making sure to remember and use the tip later. A quick glance at your watch reminded you that your time was running out – you needed to get to the dreaded class you were about to teach.

“Well,” gathering all your materials and placing some inside your bag, you began. You liked to carry your lesson book in your arms, it gave you a particular sense of authority and acknowledgment that only you understood. “Unfortunately, I need to go.”

As you stood up, Heeseung followed your movements with careful attention, his own body wanting to get on his feet as well, much to copy you and maybe walk you to your class. He held himself back, because that would be too pathetic. And he had already exhausted his quota of embarrassment in front of you.

You looked at him, continuing, “But before I leave, I have one more question for you.”

“About what?” He asked, his voice soft but tinged with confusion and curiosity.

“Do you fall into the group that prefers dating or not dating?”

You giggled at his immediate response; his wide eyes, his hands fumbling nervously, one of them darting to adjust his glasses as your unwavering gaze lingered on him.

“Um,” he shifted in his seat, not daring to look at you. “Dating.”

That had been a calculated move on your part, a way to test the waters and find out if he had any romantic ties. Surely, a man as handsome, intelligent, and kind as Heeseung had someone. But the way he answered, paired with his demeanor around you during your few encounters, piqued your curiosity and strengthened your belief that he wasn’t taken.

“Just to clarify, Heeseung,” you said, placing your book back on the table and flattening your hands on its surface. Leaning slightly forward, you closed the space between your faces. Heeseung swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on your unwavering ones. “Are you single?”

“Yes,” he answered shyly yet promptly, his cheeks now burning with heat. “I am single.”

“Good,” you said with a satisfied nod, not even attempting to hide your delight in his response. Straightening up, you grabbed your things and prepared to leave, a smile dancing on your lips. “Very good, Heeseung.”

You had a lecture to lead in a few minutes and hoped to grab a quick bite while reviewing your notes – a personal mantra that steadied your nerves and boosted your confidence, a ritual that you tried not to break. However, fate had different plans for you that day, starting with the unusual buzz of conversation seeping through the door of the faculty lounge, indicating more people had the same plan of occupying the room.

What caught you off guard, though, as your hand settled on the knob and you gently pushed the door open, careful not to disrupt the animated chatter, was spotting Heeseung's bright presence among the group of professors.

The instant hush that followed sent three pairs of eyes towards you, yet yours locked singularly on his. Hesseung’s expression softened automatically, shifting from the lingering remnants of a joyful laughter to something tender and inviting.

Even by the distance, you could nearly feel his irises glimmering with warmth, a genuine glow of happiness lighting up his features little by little. Internally, his heart picked up its pace, the contrast of nervous energy coursing through his body was almost palpable, his palms already growing clammy.

“Please, carry on as if I’m not here,” you quipped with a cheeky smile, not bothering to properly greet each individual. “Pretend I’m a ghost. I’m just here to grab a book,” you added, weaving a subtle lie into your words as you made your way towards the bookshelf in the corner.

A few chuckles rippled through the room before the conversation resumed, now with only two participants since one of them felt the urge to follow you every move. You wondered why you had gone through the effort of lying and how you would deal with your lunch plans elsewhere, considering none of the current people aligned with your usual solitary break.

Well… One of them could maybe help you.

“Hey,” a quiet voice cut through, pulling you from your thoughts as you lingered too long by the shelf. Your head snapped to the side, finding Heeseung standing there with an easy smile, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark grey slacks.

“Hey,” you replied, instinctively shifting to face him fully.

You couldn’t help but let your gaze wander, now practically a habit during these fleeting encounters. Today, Heeseung in a turtleneck was a sight you hadn’t been prepared for. The sleek black fabric paired with a gray blazer and silver accents from his accessories left you more breathless than you cared to admit. Lethal for your heart. Effortlessly, attractively hot. 

“Wanna grab some lunch together?” He asked with an air of casualness, which diverged entirely from the usual demeanor he displayed around you.

Your eyes sparkled with amusement, the corner of your lips curving as a shadow of a mischievous smile appeared before his boldness. Accepting the invitation veered slightly off your schedule, but the idea of speaking with him alone – and the fact that he had taken the initiative – was far too tempting to pass up.

Biting your lower lip in a futile attempt to stifle your smile, you replied as nonchalant as you could, “Sure.”

“Great!” His voice held a trace of enthusiasm that left you feeling inexplicably giddy.

You stifled a giggle when he stepped aside, motioning for you to lead the way, and then quickly rushed ahead to hold the door open for you.

“We can head to that convenience store just down the street,” Heeseung suggested with his charmingly laid-back tone as he helped you through the way, making sure you wouldn’t bump into anyone.

It somehow felt like he practiced this entire interaction quite a few times beforehand, a hint of artificiality appearing amidst the palpable signs of sincerity; that idea matched perfectly with the persona he had shown you so far.

“It’s near, so it won’t mess with your schedule,” at that remark, your attention sharpened, your ears perking up eagerly, waiting for what he would say next. “I know you’ve got a lecture in about thirty minutes, so–”

“You know my schedule?” You cut him off immediately, letting your curiosity overtake as you ignored whatever he was saying previously because that one new information stirred a few strong beats in your chest.

Not to mention how your delight was more than evident in the way your smile brightened, your eyes instantly searching for Heeseung’s shy ones.

“I–I mean– Yeah…” tinged with hesitation and with his confidence momentarily faltering – as well as his steps –, Heeseung answered, adorably flickering his gaze to you, to the floor and then to the direction you both were walking.

However, before he could even try to start to explain himself further, you leaned in, your tone dipping slightly to reassure and tease him at once, your shoulder nudging his arm as you spoke. “You’re cute, Heeseung.”

Not much to your surprise, Heeseung froze in place after hearing your compliment, as though your words had short-circuited his brain, frying his ability to create a proper reaction other than abruptly stop walking.

You had halted your steps a bit forward so you had to turn your body to look at him, and immediately his bambi-eyes scanned you in search for some indication you were joking or pranking his poor heart. The way he had arched his eyebrows together added a charm of innocence that had your heart faltering several beats, not to mention the red flush adorning his cheeks adorably.

After quickly reading Heeseung’s dumbfounded face, you giggled and shook your head tenderly, your eyes oozing with amusement.

“I meant it,” and to add a light touch of genuineness, you held your smile a bit longer. 

Actually, being around Heeseung had this impact on you; a sudden urge to keep smiling, an unexpected and inexplicable heat spreading through your chest, soothing you in a comforting embrace. It was strangely good, as well as scary as shit.

Amidst his inner war, torn between choosing to run away and accepting your praise, Heeseung cleared his throat, making a fist with his hand and covering his lips as he did so before picking up the pace of his steps again. You started to follow, ignoring the students that clearly threw suspicious, speculative glances at you both. Heeseung seemed to mirror your decision too. 

“Well. Uh. T–Thank you,” the stammer made his demeanor even charming and you couldn’t help another giggle that escaped you. He took a little glance at you shyly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a sheepish smile that betrayed how affected he was. 

Heeseung was really battling to maintain his composure, because hearing that sound two times in a row was notably increasing his pulse, and attached to the fact that you called him cute– God. He could feel his face flaming hot once again. 

By your peripheral vision, you caught how he was struggling to suppress a bigger smile, his cheeks puffing slightly as a result of his attempts. If he kept acting that way around you, there was an absurdly high chance you would throw caution to the wind and just ask to kiss him.

Wait. Where did that thought come from?

You had considered Heeseung as a potential romantic interest before – after all, he was handsome, intelligent, kind, and seemed to have an equally beautiful personality. But nothing as raw and carnal as the genuine desire to have him in such a way had crossed your mind until now.

The daylight hit your faces as you both stepped outside the building, but even that wasn’t enough to pull you out of the increasingly sinful thoughts flooding your mind. Sure, you had noticed in previous interactions how Heeseung’s gaze lingered just a little too long on your lips while you spoke. And it was definitely not the kind of attention stemming from “lip reading to understand better.” It was so clear in his eyes, an unspoken want hidden behind those charming chocolate orbs, leaving you wondering if you could be the one to make them melt sweetly for you.

Damn. More sinful thoughts.

Luckily, Heeseung interrupted the spiral going in your head when he pointed ahead to the spot he had mentioned earlier. “It’s right there,” he said, his voice light and soft. “We won’t take too long, okay?”

And then, he gave you the most beautiful smile your eyes had ever captured.

You were so screwed.

There was no other way to put it: you were starting to enjoy having Heeseung around a little too much. The reactions, the smiles, the chivalry, it was strongly getting to you. He had just held the door open for you, walked on the outer edge of the sidewalk, and pulled out your chair while offering to grab whatever you wanted to eat.

Sure, part of it was the bare minimum, but there was no denying that receiving all this without asking, without having any deeper connection beyond being colleagues, left you flustered. It felt special, as though Heeseung’s gentlemanly gestures were more deliberate and sincere simply because they were directed at you.

“Heeseung, you’re not paying for my–”

“Shh,” he gently hushed you, shaking his head as he looked down at you. He was still standing after insisting you sit while he took care of your order. “You can’t wear yourself out, Y/N. Remember: your lecture’s in…” He glanced at his watch. “Twenty-four minutes.”

You gave him a deadpan look and rolled your eyes, silently but surely mastering the art of hiding how affected you actually felt. Your heart had suddenly learned a new frantic rhythm, one that uncontrollably drummed against your rib cages as if it wanted to break free, ringing in your ears. 

“Fine, fine,” you finally gave up, your voice showing your surrender. “But at least let me–”

“No,” Heeseung refused again, this time gently pushing your hands down, which were holding the credit card you had just fished out of your bag. “Tell me what you want.”

After a sigh, you made your request – the simplest thing you could think of, since you were hungry, but the nervousness about your upcoming lecture left you slightly nauseous.

It was a session you had given before, but it always managed to trigger some anxiety. The lecture was open to the entire department, not just a specific class, as part of the mandatory hours – for either you and the students – where you would teach for an hour and a half on a selected topic.

While Heeseung prepared both bowls of ramen and fetched the drinks, you took the brief moment alone to review your notes on your phone. The book you had grabbed earlier as a prop for your blatant lie in the faculty lounge was now abandoned on the extra chair at your table.

Your focused expression was unmistakable, your eyes scanning the chaotic notes that only you could make sense of, notes that would somehow translate into coherent, eloquent words once you started speaking, shining in your element.

From a distance, Heeseung paused mid-way to take you in as well to inhale deeply, his shoulders visibly relaxing from the palpable tension that always seemed to grip him whenever you were near, but his hand still held a remnant of the nervous sweat. 

Inviting you to lunch had been planned in advance in his head, yet it didn’t stop his heart from missing beats when it actually happened, especially after you accepted, making him wonder if having a heart attack was anything like that feeling.

Beyond that, your cheeky words wrapped in confident compliments occupied a special place in the atmosphere surrounding you two, fanning the flames of unease that already simmered within him.

He had spent days counting the chances he might have to carve out time in his own schedule to ask you out, carefully calculating a way to avoid inconveniencing either of you. The courage to invite you outside of work hours wasn’t fully there yet.

He didn’t even have your number!

Heeseung decided to start slowly, taking baby steps. Nonetheless, the blatant flirtation from the other day still echoed in his mind, sending him spiraling into endless thoughts – or perhaps towards the obvious conclusion.

Did you want to get to know him better? What were your intentions? After a candid conversation with Sunghoon, who confirmed that flirting wasn’t your typical behavior with coworkers, Heeseung couldn’t shake the notion that something lingered in the air whenever you two interacted. It was an unspoken tension, like a cloud of silent words revealing something deeper, hidden just beneath the surface.

As usual, you looked stunning, completely immersed in your work while pouring every ounce of effort into being an excellent teacher. Heeseung had come to admire this about you.

He silently hoped you wanted him the way he had started wanting you – something more than friendship, something closer. You were kind and confident, dedicated and beautiful. Falling for you would be effortless.

If luck was on his side, this lunch would mark the first step towards the connection he longed to build with you.

As he approached, he couldn’t help but notice the faint unease clouding your otherwise captivating expression. It didn’t detract from your beauty, instead stirred a quiet desire within him to ease your worries.

“Relax,” he murmured softly, careful not to startle you, as he placed the steaming bowls of ramen and drinks on the table. You glanced up, your posture loosening as you leaned back in your chair. “You’ll do great.”

And there it was again, that effortlessly charming smile.

Heeseung took his seat across from you, leaning forward to start sipping his ramen since he was very hungry himself. His eyes crinkled slightly as they met yours, radiating warmth and tenderness, unmatching your keen gaze that followed the movement of his lips curving into a pout as he ate.

The problem was that, this time, you couldn’t hold your tongue about his beautiful grin.

“You have a really nice smile, Heeseung.”

And the reaction was instant. He choked, coughing into his hand as you giggled mischievously, quickly pushing his drink closer so he could take a sip and regain his dignity. Heeseung’s face turned as red as a tomato, increasing the adoration in your eyes as you watched the way he struggled; something about giving compliments simply for the sake of breaking his composure became one of your favorite games to play. Besides, you really meant each of them. 

You could go for hours about the traces of Heeseung’s features, analyzing it like a delicate and dreamlike painting, the ones that felt surreal, nearly far to human reach. 

For a short amount of seconds, Heeseung forgot he was speaking to the person who was climbing the romantic-interest charts with immense potential, the one responsible for the erratic beats of his heart and the thoughts he preferred not to name just yet, and not some random friend of his.

The curse slipped from his sauce-stained lips in a soft murmur. “Damn it,” he quickly wiped the area with a napkin, recovering from his small choke before practically whining the next words. “You’ve gotta stop doing that.”

You hadn't expected that behavior at all, but it was definitely a pleasant surprise. The wide-eyed look he gave you immediately, as if the realization hit him that he had acted more like a child than a man in front of you, only made your chest warm with affection. Ironically, Heeseung’s cheeks also flushed, heating in pure embarrassment.

He was lowkey thankful for the outfit choice, the turtleneck covering the flush of redness creeping up his neck towards his face and ears. 

You shifted in your seat, finally ready to dig into your food as the aroma made your stomach rumble.

“Sorry,” you took a bite of your ramen, offering a lopsided smile, not the least bit apologetic for making him lose his composure in front of you. “I can’t help it.”

Realizing that your gaze hadn’t changed towards him, and in fact, you seemed even more intrigued by what he could offer, Heeseung decided to be as genuine as possible, expressing his true essence,  one that teetered on the edge of something almost reverential.

It wasn’t as if he had other options in front of your mesmerizing presence, because even a simple “hello” from you, with your velvety voice as the backdrop, was enough to destabilize his body, causing his mind to short-circuit. Then, he became a jumble of disconnected words and behaviors that perfectly reflected his inner turmoil.

“You should at least try,” Heeseung murmured again, an underlying tone of faux sadness coloring his words. He avoided looking at you for too long; otherwise, it felt like the air would vanish from his lungs. “You know, so I can pretend to be really cool around you, and then you’ll fall for me.”

Heeseung wasn’t sure where the courage to throw out such a bold line came from, but he didn’t complain at first. However, the laugh that escaped you made him question whether it was the right move, hesitating at your reaction. But then your smile remained, subtle and affectionate, your eyes dripping with amusement until you spoke, in the same low, subtly husky, sensual tone that reflected part of your personality.

“It’s adorable to watch you all flustered, Heeseung,” you replied fearlessly, reading the script he once showed you without explaining, your confidence evident in every syllable as you chewed your food, maintaining eye contact without breaking. “It’s almost addictive.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes, but the cheeky smile that threatened to escape betrayed his attempt to appear annoyed. He took a sip of his drink and looked at you seriously, though there was such obvious faking behind his gaze that you had to stifle a laugh, especially since he added a small pout after speaking.

Seriously, what an adorable man.

“I don’t think it’s funny at all.”

The warm atmosphere between you both created an interesting, comfortable dynamic that made you think about exploring different paths with him, maybe even inviting him to eat outside work hours. Despite the pleasant conversation, there was always the weight of your duties as teachers. The thought made you recall your next task with a quick inner jolt.

“Wow,” you looked at the time on your phone, your expression twisting into a mix of dread and nervousness before looking back at Heeseung, who was watching you with curiosity. “I need to go.”

It was strangely nice to see his face fall into something bordering on sadness, even though it fueled an impulse to drop all responsibilities and stay with him for the rest of the day, chatting away and definitely coaxing more shy reactions out of him.

“Sorry,” you said, this time meaning it. Gently, you reached for Heeseung’s hand resting on the table, covering it with yours. “I promise we can hang out more. Give me your number.”

Everything happened so quickly. The sudden touch, the promise of a future meet, the request for his number. Heeseung needed a few seconds to process the phone extended in his direction.

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he said, reluctantly pulling his hand away to carefully write down his name and number in your phone before handing it back to you.

You found it amusing that he saved himself as “Lee Heeseung (college),” because you initially associated it with a college friend rather than a work one, which gave a youthful, almost nostalgic air, as though you two were young lovers rather than two mature adults about to venture down a different path beyond a mere friendship.

“Thanks, Heeseung,” you said as you stood up, the man following your movements for some reason he couldn’t pinpoint. He still had a few minutes before he had to head back. “For the food, the conversation, and for helping me relax.”

“Y-Yeah,” he mentally cursed himself for stuttering. “Anytime, Y/N.”

You gave him a small yet sincere smile before pausing almost completely, clutching your hands around your bag’s strap. Heeseung was standing there, eyes wide and round, watching you intently, his expression sweet as honey and his body waiting for... something.

There was no way to stop your own limbs from moving when you leaned forward lightly, enveloping Heeseung in a warm hug. “Thank you so much, Hee.”

And Heeseung could only hope you didn’t hear or feel the rapid beats of his heart when he held you back.

But you did.

Heeseung definitely wore a bolder persona through text. You believed his hands were still trembling as he sent the message, fingers glazing over the screen, searching for the best way to express what his flustered mind was trying to articulate, because countless times he seemed to delete and rewrite, hesitating before hitting send.

Despite that, it was so intriguing and sensual the way he let himself get carried away in the messages; from sweet good mornings followed by “can’t wait to see you today,” to “your outfit was stunning. I held myself back from hugging you a little longer,” implying he was slowly, yet surely growing hungrier from your touches. They were subtle phrases, perhaps innocent, but filled with an unspoken, looming desire.

At this point, it was undeniable that all you longed for was to kiss him, since the hugs that had become your usual greeting no longer satisfied the yearning to have him in direct contact with your skin. You wanted more. Much more.

“You’re suffocating me,” Heeseung mumbled against your chest, but made no effort to pull away from the position.

Yes. You were in quite a... compromising position.

You found him in the teachers' lounge, sitting at one of the chairs with his elbows propped on the smooth surface of the desk while reviewing some assignments, facial features sharpened due to the concentrated gaze and furrowed brows, although the faint pout gracing his lips softened the whole facade. 

Sunghoon had just left, greeting you with a sly smile and a wink, almost murmuring a “good luck, I’ll leave you two alone” in the most teasing way.

And it was in that very moment, when your sneaky presence entered the room, that your little plan began. Truth be told, there was no plan, just a spontaneous thought that hugging Heeseung while he was seated and you standing might be a nice touch – albeit a touch that was a bit too sultry for the work environment but would certainly reveal the mystery behind some of your insecurities and second thoughts. 

Did Heeseung flirt for his own pleasure, or was he too afraid to make a move? Because you honestly didn’t know how much longer you could wait.

“Sorry, my dear,” the endearment slipped out almost automatically, now as routine as the hugs, because to your delight, Heeseung always became embarrassed and cutely tried to avoid you when you called him that.

But who could he blame? Your honeyed voice saying the word always felt like a sweet, addictive shot to his chest.

You laughed when he groaned, pressing his face against the fabric of your blouse, pulling away ever so slightly enough for your hand to rest on his shoulder, his hand finding its way to your waist, looking up to make eye contact with you.

He wore gold-framed glasses that perfectly balanced his skin. Over the course of your conversations, a few subtle details had been revealed, like the fact that he was a little nearsighted but only wore glasses when he was too lazy to put in his contacts. And they were now slightly misplaced, giving him a ridiculously attractive air.

On top of that, he had chosen to wear suspenders that day, which only added to the innocent-boy look that made your heart tremble in a mild despair. It made you ache to ruin Heeseung in ways that were beyond comprehension, leaving him completely undone under your hands. 

And that created a bittersweet feeling within you, because Heeseung was somehow sweet and delicate, and all you could think of in moments like this was seeing him squirming in your bed.

Like. What the hell.

Vanishing the sinful stream of thoughts crossing your mind by subtly shaking it off, you smiled with a falsely angelic demeanor. A pang in your heart reminded you that those inappropriate ideas needed to disappear, because until Heeseung gave you the green light, you couldn’t take any bold actions. You had to keep your not-so-innocent instincts under control.

Your fingers lightly scratched at his scalp, making his pretty eyes flutter briefly and a soft sigh escape his lips, tinted with a pale shade of pink. Moments like this – when a sudden intimacy bloomed between the two of you – always brought with them an undeniable need to define what you were becoming or at least bring it to the table. Were you both on the same page?

“Ready to go?”

“Gimme just ten more minutes. I need to finish this,” Heeseung replied warmly, his gaze flickering towards the scattered papers on the desk.

His voice never rose around you, always soft and gentle, like you were something rare and delicate that deserved only the utmost care, you came to notice after a few interactions.

Following his line of sight, you let out a dramatic sigh, recognizing the template on the papers and sympathizing with his predicament.

“My deepest condolences,” you joked, patting his back lightly before stepping away to give him the space he needed to finish his work.

Heeseung breathed out a soft laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly. “Yeah, thanks.”

Taking the spare chair across the table, you rummaged through your bag for your phone to answer some emails and clear up a few pending tasks, working in silence to avoid disturbing him.

It was a Friday, and your plans involved dinner – a date you had invited him to, scheduled after the extended workday that surprisingly got dragged into the evening. It wasn’t a usual routine, but every so often, deadlines accumulated and students seemed to conspire to submit all their assignments at once, unnecessarily stressing the professors.

You had received your fair share of submissions earlier in the day, deciding to tackle them on Sunday. Tonight, your nerves were too tangled with excitement and anticipation about spending the entire evening with Heeseung.

Your so-called “dates” had so far been restricted to small windows of free time, with your schedules swallowing the possibility of meeting outside work. Lunchtime together had become almost expected – sometimes, a quick sandwich devoured in the span of ten minutes between breaks with Heeseung was enough to leave you happy for an entire day.

Still, whispers floated through the hallways, pointing at how students had started to pay close attention to your interactions. The lingering touches on arms, shy smiles, and starry eyes hadn't gone unnoticed. One student even mentioned Heeseung’s name during your class under the guise of linking it to something he taught, only to admit they were curious about your reaction.

And it had been priceless.

At any given time, Heeseung would be the source of your expression brightening instantly, your posture straightened as if on command, and your hand reflexively fixing any rogue strand of hair.

However, there was no reason for you to bask into that type of spotlight. Even though you carried yourself with confidence and shared openly about clinical and professional experiences with your students, believing practical examples enriched the theory, there were limits. And that line was drawn sharply when it came to your personal and romantic life.

You had particular tastes, ones not every man could embrace or accept at all. This was why you approached Heeseung with such caution – biting around the edges not to burn your tongue, to avoid ruining everything.

But something within you screamed, loud and clear, that he might be the one. Or, at the very least, someone willing to occupy a space where both of you could thrive.

“Y/N?” His soft voice broke through your spiral of thoughts with almost painful gentleness. Heeseung was always so soft, so sweet. Ugh.

“Yes?” You lifted your gaze, confused, only to find him smiling faintly.

“You were zoning out,” he pointed out, and only then did you notice the desk had been cleared, his work neatly organized. “Something on your mind?”

Yes. You.

“No,” you quickly shook your head, preparing to stand, but Heeseung’s hand stopped you, his warm touch wrapping over your fingers.

“If you’re having second thoughts about going out, we can always reschedule,” he began cautiously, his tone betraying a flicker of hesitation. “I mean, if you’re not feeling up to go out with me–”

“No!” You denied it so quickly it sounded desperate, your chest tightening at the sensation of his warm palm on yours. “Of course not! I invited you, and I really, really want to go, Hee,” clearing away his doubt took priority number one, and without even realizing it, the words left your lips in a voice both firm and gentle. “I really want to spend time with you. Outside of work. Just the two of us. On a date. Okay?”

Heeseung noticed how you had been absent for several minutes, your gaze distant as it lingered on a spot on the table, making him wonder if there was something there he couldn’t see – maybe his glasses needed a stronger prescription or something. But no, you were just lost in thought, and reading you like that stoked the uncertainty, hesitation eating his confidence away. 

He had accepted your invitation immediately, because he wanted to go out with you more than anything. Maybe the night would end with a few kisses exchanged in his car and, perhaps – hopefully –, something more.

But any hint of hesitation from you made his confidence waver unexpectedly, even if you weren’t truly unsure. If he knew the real reason behind your sudden distance, he would understand why your mind had wandered. And could even drive you through it willingly. 

Nevertheless, once you reassured him it rekindled the invisible threads of hope that had been flickering to waver, easing the tensed nerves of his body and bringing a relieved smile to his face.

With a soft squeeze on your hand, he whispered, praying not to fumble since he just realized you called it a date and his heart chose to perform acrobatics, flipping somersaults in his chest.

“Shall we?”

The dinner was wonderful, relatively early but lovely, carried with comfortable chats and hands searching for each other. Then Heeseung suggested a walk to a nearby park so you could enjoy ice cream together, blushing furiously as he gave the idea for thinking it might be a bit cheesy and silly. 

You loved it. You loved ice cream.

You strolled for a while, leisurely, with no rush, exchanging words, sharing thoughts, and flirting subtly – some moments that even left you flustered, stirring fumbles and stutters that Heeseung stated internally it was his personal favorite side of you.

You heard him talk about the anxieties he felt at work, being newly hired and dealing with the pressures was definitely a struggle. So you shared what calmed you amid chaos, hoping something could ease his worries as much as it did for yours. Other than that, you offered your presence and listening for whenever he felt like venting out. He thanked you with a pretty smile. You nearly stumbled on your feet. 

And just like that, the next date was decided. A quiet, but certainly personal one: Sunday at your place, correcting the remaining assignments and hanging out the rest of the evening.

Then, before you both could reach the bench where you planned to sit, your ice cream nearly finished since you were a slow eater, Heeseung suddenly stopped and looked at you. Confused, you mimicked his motion and asked with worry, “Something’s wrong?”

When your eyes met, you recognized a glint of desperation and longing, an unspoken anticipation for something you didn’t know yet, but it ignited the same ache in your chest.

Your heart raced uncontrollably when Heeseung took a step forward, its thump-thump echoing in your ear like a distant thunder when he slowly, but surely closed the distance between you both.

The moonlight illuminating your faces became a silent accomplice, your gazes, heavy with unshed confessions, translating what either of you failed to articulate.

Heeseung let out a sigh, the delicate sound escaping his lips like a subtle breeze to caress your skin, before slowly running his tempting tongue over the curve of his mouth. Your eyes darted towards it, as though a magnetic pull drew your attention to the area without leaving control for you.

Your surprise was written all over your face, yet it faded quickly, when Heeseung leaned in even closer, his presence drawing you into a bubble where the rest of the world no longer existed. The surroundings turned into a blur, an ethereal fog wrapping you two in a cocoon of warmth and soft tension.

As his hand reached up to caress your cheek, there was a moment of hesitation, an unspoken uncertainty lingering in the air between you. His fingers brushed gently over your skin with a feather-light touch, as though testing the waters, while his eyes flickered through your features, marveling with attention.

His other hand, however, settled firmly on your waist, pulling you closer and anchoring you in place. The pressure was subtle and unmistakable, making your breath get caught in your throat.

“I want to kiss you,” under the stars, Heeseung confessed.

The air thickened, the last piece of the ice cream cone promptly dropping to the ground because you were too busy searching for physical contact; your fingers traced an invisible line across Heeseung’s chest, covered by the light dress shirt, until they found comfort on his broad shoulders.

“I want to kiss you too,” with a genuine mutuality, built slowly through the weeks and now finally transformed into words, you eased the weight on your chest.

It was different to simply think and to verbalize. Putting into words made it real. It showed the vulnerability hidden behind the idealization, working as a strong grounding where you, so far, feared to walk in. But Heeseung wanted to go with you just as much.

A gentle, relieved smile graced the corner of his mouth and made you mirror it almost automatically, as if the relationship created through the days synched into an admirable connection where your bodies worked together, unison. 

Eye contact remained as quiet promises hanged in the air, until your eyelids grew heavy, emotions swirling inside you and overpowering the last fragments of reasoning. The distance between you deliberately shrank, and you briefly savored the soft touch of Heeseung’s uneven breath as his parted lips grazed over yours, as a silent invite for you to meet him mid-way.

And you did. 

Heeseung was fully tense now, body quivering slightly as desperation swallowed his capacity to think straight; he could feel his hands trembling on your jawline and waist, goosebumps covering his entire being.

Touching your lips felt like embracing a plush, fluffy cloud, caressing his flesh with care and tenderness. It was delightful, carrying a warmth of affection he had never experienced with anyone else.

The very first contact was experimental, a delicate pull to ease the foreign encounter of skins, but held a trace of purpose that conveyed the inner turmoil happening inside. For short seconds you backed away, your lips ajar, silently expressing neediness that led you to lean in once more, diving into kissing Heeseung properly, because the fleeting meet wasn’t enough for you. You yearned more. 

When your tongues brushed against each other after a bold move coming from you, Heeseung groaned, the shock coursing through his body was indescribable. If he had to find words to express, he would choose the idea of a surge of electricity at the highest voltage, yet without pain or discomfort but definitely intense as such. On the contrary, it seemed to soothe every fragile piece of his soul with subtle firmness – a graceful, beautiful, and gentle contrast.

Waves of unfamiliar sensations filled your chests like butterflies dancing joyously to the rhythm you slowly unveiled together, flooding you two with a sense of “finally” that resonated louder than anything else in that moment.

Finally, you discovered the taste you craved the most; Heeseung's mouth tasted like strawberries. And devotion. It blended with the flavor of caramel melting on your tongue, a sweet and addictive mix. It bordered on surreal, like utopian dreams, unreachable, and definitely intoxicating.

While Heeseung finally discovered the softness of your lips, the delicate curve of it driving his instincts to deepen the kiss eagerly, his fingers tightening on your waist as if afraid you might slip away.

He wasn’t going to let go. Neither were you.

The world outside completely fell away. The few things that mattered and you could focus on was the heat of Heeseung’s touch, the pressure of his tongue against yours, and the frantic pace of your heartbeats intertwining together. The kiss wasn’t simply a kiss anymore, it was the culmination of all the unspoken tension, all the longing that had been building between you. A promise under the moonlight that was finally being kept.

Breathing was becoming a difficult task as the seconds passed, so you had to reluctantly break the contact, but only enough to catch your breath, your foreheads gently resting on each other.

Your eyes remained closed, heavy due to the adrenaline rushing your veins relentlessly, your pulse wildly pounding as though it aimed to set fire to your skin. It was as if the weight of tons had lifted off your shoulders, soothing your soul with an uneven calm, even though your body now burned with desire, claiming for more. 

Heeseung, on the other hand, felt like he had stepped into a new world, unbelieving of what had just happened. Breaking the blissful chaos happening inside, he breathed out a giggle, the sound both turning the dreamlike sensation into a tangible emotion and causing you to flutter your eyes open.

You leaned back ever so slightly to find him with an adorable expression, one that exuded sincerity, need and something similar to disbelief. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked softly, feeling your cheek flush with a sudden shyness as the tips of your fingers started to wander around the silky strands of Heeseung’s hair, trailing random patterns, which drew a sigh from him.

Heeseung leaned into the touch when you cupped his face with one palm before he shook his head, the movement causing your noses to nuzzle against one another due to the proximity, and his glasses to tilt off a little. Then his smile widened, another delicate giggle gifting your hearing and your sight, since his two hooded eyes turned into small crescents behind the transparent lenses. 

“I'm kinda not believing that we just kissed,” he whispered quietly on your lips. You deliberately licked them, exhaling a chuckle at his adorableness.

Another shaky sigh escaped Heeseung, the edge of his ears turning into a crimson shade and the skin beneath your fingers warming noticeably.

“Yeah?” A small, amused smirk played on your mouth, your voice dropping to a low tone, bordering on sultry as your eyes rose, seeking the contact you so loved to maintain; those two beautiful chocolate orbs held yours, drawing you in with pure affection. “Does it feel unreal?”

Heeseung’s heartbeat quickened when you boldly, yet slowly brushed your thumb on his bottom lip, leaving no room for answers because he was falling apart, crumbling under your intensity. He then prevented you from the beautiful scenery of his glimmering eyes oozing you once he closed them to enjoy your touch.

A soft hum escaped his throat, a subtle response to the question hanging in the air that sounded a little extra sensual to your ears, a noise that definitely had no right to spasm a heat down your core.

Heeseung’s head moved slightly with a silent nod afterwards, as if to say he didn’t have the proper words to explain how out of this world, how overwhelming kissing you felt.

“Then kiss me again, Heeseung,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, lips teasingly grazing over his. Heeseung's heart stuttered, his breath faltering. “Kiss me again, and maybe it'll start to feel real.”

For a fleeting moment, hesitation flashed in his eyes as he opened them. His hungry gaze flickered between your parted, inviting lips and the anticipation burning in your stare. Had he heard you right? Did you truly want this again – want him?

You caught the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow, the grip on your waist tightening, almost possessive, though beneath it lay his tensed uncertainty. His other hand remained where it was, cradling your face with a gentleness that contrasted the intensity of his hold, sending an unbidden shiver cascading down your spine.

But it was your expectant, eager eyes, glowing with nothing but unfiltered desire that shattered his doubts. There was no fear, no reluctance, not even the slightest trace of insecurity coming from you. Just raw, unspoken, confident want. One more kiss. Just one more.

And so, he claimed your mouth, capturing your lower lip between his, sucking on it with a fervent need as his eyes fluttered shut – and so did yours. A soft, breathy smack echoed when he finally released it from the grasp of his own plush lips, waiting for your next decision.

A rush of warmth spread between you as your mouth searched for his instinctively, to deepen the rhythm with the passion intensifying and the pace quickening. Your tongues intertwined in a seamless dance, a newfound hunger guiding how they moved.

The hand that once caressed you wavered for a second before gliding down to your waist, fingers flexing as he pulled you flush against him. The friction was subtle, but enough to steal the breath from your lungs, a gasp getting lost amidst the kiss.

Heeseung was starting to show signs of a deeper yearning, a need darker and unexplored, untouched up until this moment, but still restraining himself, an inner fight unveiling before you both. 

The discrepancy in his actions laid bare the true, fractured side of his divided desire – caught between surrendering to the primal instinct to kiss you over and over again with reckless abandon, without stopping, and the struggle to control himself, to rein in the sheer force of his craving.

But if he lost himself on you, you wouldn’t mind, not when he kissed you like this; so fiercely, so feverishly. It was intoxicating the way Heeseung devoured you with such raw need, as if this was everything, his only want, his only need, the very essence of his happiness.

The two of you clung to each other with an almost desperate tenderness at this point, as if feeling the warmth of the other’s skin was the only thing tethering you to reality – as if this simple touch carried the last breath of joy, of desire, of life itself.

You sighed into his mouth, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp, drawing a delicious groan from deep within his chest. The sound alone sent a spark of pleasure coursing through you and you thanked for the tight grip on your hips, otherwise you would probably fall.

Your other hand clutched the fabric of his shirt, as though it would be able to anchor you away from the reality unfolding inside your brain; one that definitely didn’t stop there, in the middle of an open public space. 

Heeseung reacted instantly, angling his head to kiss you better, to give you the best, his lips moving with a fervor that made your entire body buzz with the type of heat you started to wish to live forever with. 

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, panting for air, Heeseung rested his forehead against yours, his fingers still gripping you as if afraid to let go, enjoying how you held his body just as close, fearing the same. 

His hooded and dazed gaze bore into yours, layered with something you couldn’t pinpoint precisely. Not before he murmured with his hoarse voice, taunting your next move. “Still feels unreal.”

You let out a breathy laugh, a feigned scoff due to his sudden shameless demeanor. Your fingertips traced the sharp line of his jaw before settling against his lips, swollen and glistening from your kiss; Heeseung deduced you liked to do that, playing with his sanity enough to drift his soul towards the edge of losing it completely. 

“Then maybe,” you purred, tone laced with mischief. “We should try again. Just to make sure.”

Heeseung smirked, eyes darkening, matching yours. He whispered back. 

“But not here.”

Heeseung had noticed the way you had practically devoured him with your gaze all afternoon, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that realization.

Well, maybe not all afternoon, but at some point it seemed like you had grown bored of your responsibilities and decided to entertain yourself. How?

It didn’t matter if Heeseung was rambling about dull, tedious things, like students handing in papers filled with blatantly copied textbook answers despite his request for originality. Somehow, you managed to derail his thoughts into dangerous territory.

“Ugh, such a drag, right?” You had responded at the end of his rant, lips pursed in an exaggerated pout as your fingers idly traced along the fabric of his thin sweater, feigning comfort – an excuse to touch him.

Or when he asked for a glass of water, and you returned with his order and… A lollipop between your lips, absently rolling the red-tinted candy over your tongue while pretending to focus on your assignments, casually seated on the floor of your living room as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

And now, when he had simply asked for the bathroom’s location, you had replied, “Last door down the hall, right next to my room.”

There was something so subtle, yet unmistakably deliberate about the way you had emphasized my room, your voice laced with a suggestive tone to make it sound like an unspoken invitation. As if you wanted to plant the thought in his mind – no, better: dare him to wonder where exactly your room was. More precisely, where your bed was.

And it wasn’t as if Heeseung didn’t want you in that way. Of course he did. Ever since Friday’s kiss you had been the only thing occupying his thoughts. He had lost track of time on Saturday, running late to his own commitments, the once carefully maintained routine slipping through his fingers like sand.

You were unraveling him, piece by piece, effortlessly pulling his existence into your orbit, making his sanity wane with an alarming ease.

Now Heeseung found himself standing in the bathroom, unsure of how to step back out, his fumbling fingers disheveled his dark hair. 

No, the door wasn’t stuck, nor had any accidents occurred during his time there, he was just frustrated and flustered. 

He had lost count of how many times he had leaned over the sink to splash cold water on his face, desperately attempting to ease his nerves, which instinctively tightened at the thought of returning to a closed space with you and your brazenly, shamelessly flirts. What the hell had he gotten himself into with a woman this confident and irresistible?

You, who already carried an enviable self-assurance, were completely in your element. This was your home – you knew every inch of it, and no doubt you could use props to tease Heeseung in ways that would drive him to the brink, just like the fucking lollipop.

If he closed his eyes, the sinful image of your lips wrapping around the candy’s pink tip, sucking with an unbearable slowness, would replay like a cursed mantra – a damn film he couldn’t turn off, the screen stuck on an endless loop inside his restless mind.

It was ironic how naturally and effortlessly your relationship had unfolded… until that one defining kiss.

It felt like those tender embraces – even the ones laced with playful, wandering hands, or the moments when you deliberately hugged him while he was seated, letting his face nestle into the softness of your chest innocently – were the only thing keeping the raw, untamed desire restrained.

But the moment your lips met, the next step became far more tangible; the possibility of ending the day in your bedroom hung in the air, now more than ever thickening the space between you with an unmistakable tension.

On Friday, after deciding to head back to his car under the pretext of finding more privacy, you did exchange a few more touches, none of them pure. The moment you dared to move onto his lap, however, was when Heeseung drew the line.

“Not tonight,” he murmured against your lips, breaking the kiss as a flush of embarrassment crept up his cheeks. 

And you respected his words without hesitation, nodding in understanding before sealing the moment with one last tender peck, your eyes dripping with fondness because that’s what Heeseung awakened in you: an equal blend of desire and deep affection, a craving to take care of him in every possible way.

The problem was: he wished it had been that night. That “tonight” that had already passed.

Heeseung ached for you to take him completely, just as he longed to claim you in return. Your delicate hands would probably fit perfectly around his length. Your soft lips would push him further into madness. And your gaze, always so confident and unwavering, would turn even more sultry behind closed doors, leaving him on the verge of collapse.

Heeseung let out a frustrated sigh, panicking once more, his pulse quickening. He would surrender to you in a heartbeat. No hesitation. If the mere feeling of your lips against his had sent him straight to heaven, he could only imagine what the rest of you could do.

There was this one small detail gnawing at his self-assurance, unraveling it into waves of anxiety that threatened to throw his entire system off balance. It had nothing to do with you directly, it was solely about him and his own perspective on sex. 

Heeseung valued his partner’s pleasure equally to his own. He firmly believed that both should enjoy the unique and intimate sensations a night of passion could bring. However, his own pleasure was far more… passive. Submissive, even. Would you be okay with that? Would you make fun or give up when he decides that you should take control? 

God. Everything becomes a spiral inside his head.

On the other hand, you were patiently waiting for his return, nonetheless your brain was playing tricks to the same extent.

Neither of you had brought up the kiss on Saturday, exchanging only brief messages, both too caught up in your own routines. And when Heeseung showed up at your doorstep for your “professor duties date” with the natural charming smile, greeting him with anything beyond a warm grin and a casual, “Welcome, make yourself at home,” felt oddly improper – even though you had noticed his fingers twitching on his sides, as if anticipating something more from you.

The urge to throw yourself into his arms and ruin him in the most alluring way possible tingled beneath your skin for the rest of the day, your chest hurting with raw need for him.

There was no logical explanation for the effect Heeseung had on you. If you dig to try, you would find mixed conclusions such as those impossibly big, affectionate eyes that stayed locked on you with an almost angelic aura, soaking in every word you spoke with attention and also stirring the deepest profanity thoughts to ever exist.

Or how he had to wet his lips with a frequency that threw your self-control out of the window, now knowing how they taste, only serving as a teasing motion for you to gather more and more arousal and need over them.

Or perhaps, just the remarkable way he was the perfect gentleman around you, treating you as a queen who deserved everything you wanted.

Delaying the conversation or actions felt equally as right as it did utterly wrong. But what struck you the most was realizing that this wasn’t you – at least, not the you that you knew. 

You didn’t shy away from challenges, never made excuses to escape a situation, nor avoided conversations that could either lead you exactly where you wanted to be or leave you in shambles. And maybe that was the thing about Heeseung – he dismantled your integrity, unsteadying your footing, weakening the very foundation of who you were.

He made you do things that never belonged to your usual repertoire, because, with ridiculous ease, he had melted a piece of your heart just enough to make space for himself. And you let him.

That was why, when Heeseung finally gathered the courage to step back into the living room, you didn’t even give yourself the chance to notice his timid posture, the way he initially avoided looking at you. The words left your lips like a bullet from a gun after holding the trigger for far too long.

“Heeseung, I want you.”

The room fell silent. A big pause before anything else happened. 

He hadn’t expected the confession. Nor had he expected to find you standing there, visibly waiting for him just to say it out loud. He lifted his gaze only to be met with the very woman who had been haunting his thoughts – the one who was always so sure of herself, so fucking intoxicatingly aware of what she wanted. 

And he couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down his spine when you took a step forward. Then another. And another. Until you were right there, face to face, breath to breath, heat to heat.

Your jaw was clenched, the tension betraying the firm decision you had already made. Your eyes burned, dark with intent, and Heeseung  felt himself shrink under your presence, overwhelmed by the so commanding atmosphere you carried. And yet, despite the way his body tensed, his pulse quickened, his breath grew ragged, he felt himself growing painfully eager. Painfully hard.

Because this was exactly what he liked.

The air between you thickened, heavy with a quiet-loud anticipation. The only sound filling the space was the uneven rhythm of your breathing, tangled together, syncing, feeding into the tension neither of you dared to break. You remained steady, firm. Heeseung, on the other hand, felt his skin prickle, his knees nearly buckling beneath him. God, you were so, so unbearably sexy.

His eyes traced your features as if committing them to memory, memorizing every curve, every line, as though he would later etch them into a canvas in silent admiration. And you were doing similar. But then he noticed something. You were holding back.

Your hands, still hanging at your sides, twitched with a restless itch to reach for him, but an invisible boundary you refused to cross without permission restrained you.

So you leaned in closer, sealing the final sliver of space between you. Your forehead pressed against Heeseung’s, noses barely brushing as your breath mingled in the heated air between you. Your lashes fluttered shut, and in a voice barely above a whisper, you pleaded, “Please… tell me you want me too.”

And that was it. That was the moment Heeseung shattered. Every last ounce of hesitation, every lingering doubt, was cast aside like it had never existed in the first place.

“Please,” he echoed, though his voice trembled, thick with something raw, desperate.

Your eyes snapped open, searching his face as confusion flickered across your features. You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze fully, taking in the sight of him; his slightly furrowed brows, the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, the way his dark, blown-out eyes bore into yours, brimming with hunger, longing, surrender.

“Please,” Heeseung whispered again, his grip tightening as he took your hands in his, threading his fingers through yours as if grounding himself in the touch. His eyes briefly dipped downward, to the sight of your intertwined hands as if it were something sacred. “I want you. So fucking much.” His voice was nearly a whimper now, thick with emotion, aching with need.

Then, slowly, Heeseung lifted your hands to his flushed cheeks and positioned them there, his own covering yours to make sure you wouldn’t let go, as he let the heat of his skin seep into your palms.

He shuddered beneath your fingertips, his breath stuttering as he leaned into the warmth you offered so freely. “Touch me,” he said within a breath, yet laced with craving, coaxing you to do so. “Use me…”

Heeseung melted into your touch like a man starved, nuzzling into your palm before pressing a soft, tender kiss to the center of it. A shiver ran down your spine at the way his lips brushed against your skin, like he was worshiping the moment, like he was silently begging for more.

And something inside you twisted, a sharp pang of affection and want so intense it left you breathless, your pulsing core now demanding some attention. This wasn’t quite what you had expected, but the way Heeseung looked at you, as though you were something divine, as if he was ready to kneel at your feet and offer himself up without a second thought, sent a wild rush of heat through your veins.

Then, locking his gaze with yours, pupils dark, blown wide and heavy with lust, he delivered the ultimate, the final spark to the fire.

“Make me yours.”

And fuck, you would.

To say your lips merely connected would be an understatement. Heeseung jolted slightly at the force with which you yanked him forward, meeting you halfway as you leaned in, sealing your mouths together in a kiss that was both lustful and unrelenting. The slow, deliberate contact created soft, intoxicating noises, your faces moving in perfect harmony to deepen the moment; the fading sugary taste of your lollipop dissolving slowly on Heeseung’s tongue.

Your bodies slotted together effortlessly, like two puzzle pieces finding their rightful place. The hands that had once cradled Heeseung’s face, now traced a heated path down his neck before threading into his hair, fingertips grazing his skin with intent. Instinctively, his own hands found your waist, gripping firmly as he pulled you flush against his warmth, as if needing you impossibly closer.

A quiet sigh slipped past your lips as Heeseung’s hands dug into your waist, boldly searching for bare skin so his fingers could start to explore better the curves of your body; the same old possessive grip holding you in place although you guided the entire of the kiss. He was letting you decide the pace, when and where he had the freedom and openness to move his tongue and suck your bottom lip.

Realizing how firm and claiming Heeseung was pushing you towards his body elicited an immediate shiver down your spine, your skin flaming hot, a warmth that was definitely palpable; Heeseung’s own state wasn’t much different, as heat coiled around you.

It was only when your lungs screamed for relief that you both pulled away, but Heeseung was utterly lost, desperate to continue feeling your warmth. He pressed wet, heated kisses down your neck, each one more urgent than the last. He longed to explore every inch of your smooth flesh, craving to discover what made you tremble with desire, focused solely on filling you with pleasure.

“Did you figure out where my room is?” The question left you in a breathless whisper, laced with suggestion, a sharp inhale breaking into a muffled groan when Heeseung sank his teeth into a tender spot on your neck before pulling back to meet your gaze.

Your eyes searched for his, dark and hooded, your faces hovered over each other’s, both caught in a slow, tantalizing rhythm – a tease, a challenge, neither closing the distance completely. His bangs, completely off place, brushed softly against your forehead. 

“So it was intentional?” Heeseung murmured skeptically, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk, his lips flushed and kiss-bruised. He was simply putting the pieces together, waiting for confirmation.

You didn’t bother hiding your wicked grin. “Not exactly. I just took a shot in the dark to see if it would pay off,” you purred, leaning in to catch his lower lip between your teeth before adding, “And judging by your reaction…” You dragged your nails lightly down the nape of his neck, savoring the way his breath hitched. “I think you’ve got the idea.”

Heeseung huffed a chuckle, “Then…” His words trailed off as his gaze flickered from your swollen lips to your piercing stare. You noticed his voice dropping an octave, taking on a dangerously alluring tone as he continued. “Should I show what I’ve learned, teacher?”

He watched as something unspoken flashed in your eyes for the briefest of moments when he called you that, his tone thick with sensuality; it was as though the roles had reversed, and now he was the one playing the provocateur.

You didn’t bother hiding how your body reacted to the murmured word, your breath visibly faltering, the hairs at the nape of your neck standing on end. But you never wavered. Your commanding stance remained unwavering, like a tree rooted so deeply that not even the fiercest storm could bring it down.

And there was something about that unshakable composure of yours that drove Heeseung absolutely insane. Only then did he realize he wouldn’t be able to maintain his role as the tease for much longer, not when you, in the most tantalizing way, flashed a side grin, wetting your lips with a slow, torturous motion, silently emphasizing that you could ruin his existence completely with ease – and he would relish every second of it.

“I like your confidence,” you murmured, raising an eyebrow, eyes dripping with a perfect blend of amusement, daring, and pure, raw desire. Heeseung’s breath came ragged, waiting. “I’d like to see you try, though.”

This wasn’t about the way to your bedroom anymore.

Unlike you, Heeseung did back down from certain challenges, knowing his limitations. And he definitely had no desire to push you just to test your limits – at least not that night. All he craved was the bare, unfiltered contact of your skin within the four walls that enclosed your bed. 

And that single realization fueled his next actions. His hands lowered to your ass, gripping firmly before hoisting you up, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist.

The kiss that followed was messy, because Heeseung refused to close his eyes – he didn’t trust himself not to trip along the way. You let out quiet giggles in between the feverish exchange, finding it utterly endearing how he struggled to kiss you back while also staying focused enough to walk.

The position made you keenly aware of something hard pressing against your clothed cunt; Heeseung’s growing state sent a pulse of heat surging through you, a natural clench on your walls being an indicator of your own condition.

With precise movements, you both reached your final destination. Your body ached for the comfort of your bed, ready to embrace your back… if only Heeseung hadn’t sat at the edge of the mattress with you still straddling him, offering you full control over what came next.

The kiss finally deepened with proper intent, tongues brushing slowly, melting into a molten blend of warmth and desire. Your hands framed Heeseung’s face, holding him in place, guiding him to move exactly as you pleased.

His grip on your ass slackened, shifting from possessive control to a softer hold, simply keeping you steady so you wouldn’t slip.

Your hips began rolling forward, seeking friction through the layers of fabric separating you. The movement drew a low, needy sound from Heeseung, who instinctively pressed you down against him, encouraging the rhythm.

Tired of the teasing, you let your lips wander down to his neck, claiming the sensitive skin that shuddered beneath your touch. The deliberate pace at which you explored him mirrored how his body slowly reclined with you pushing ever so slightly to sink it into the mattress, until Heeseung was completely laid out under you, at your mercy.

A devilish grin ghosted over your lips when it dawned at you the alignment you both had settled; perfectly sitting on top of the man who clearly revealed his opposition to hold control, leaving space for your dominance to appear in full display. 

Your hand briefly cupped Heeseung's cheek as your teeth grazed his prominent Adam’s apple, gently sucking the spot to soothe any lingering sting. His throat’s bulge bobbed as a quiet sigh escaped him, the sound drawing your fingers lower, tracing the defined line of his collarbone. You felt the firm texture of his bone beneath your fingertips, as your hips moved over his unmistakable hardness.

Another pleasant sound filled the dimly lit room, signaling the deepening of the night. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the passionate moment unfolding between you. 

You kept the pace agonizingly slow with your hips, your hands never staying still, mapping every inch of Heeseung’s subtly muscular body that tensed with each of your touches, from his biceps to his covered chest, until they gradually slipped beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, feeling the soft skin of his stomach tighten under your fingertips. 

It was undeniable that this was affecting you too, your body burning with yearning, aching to remove the last barrier keeping your bodies apart, even though they were already so close.

You were so fucking turned on by everything; the tantalizing noises Heeseung ever so often let out, how he had closed his eyes and furrowed his forehead, lips ajar with breathy, low groans passing through, utterly consumed by the moment.

By now your panties were beyond ruined, drenched in your leaking arousal, the fabric clinging to your pussy with every subtle shift. It urged your body to respond, to stimulate yourself even faster, though it lingered deeper in the sweet tormention of anticipation rather than pushing you towards your actual release.

The rub you guided was more than intentional; your clit pressing what you deduced was Heeseung’s tip in calculated circles, the rigidness of his length easing your rhythm as you rocked back and forth.

In search of an improved position, you lifted your torso, knees bent and pressed against the bed, slotting Heeseung’s hips between them, granting easy access for your nails to shamelessly wander over his stomach. You also found better support for yourself in this new angle.

It was only then that you realized Heeseung had released your waist, letting his arms relax, though his grip on the sheets remained obvious, his knuckles whitening with each more intense roll of your hips.

You were completely unaware of the whirlwind of thoughts Heeseung was struggling to suppress, the inner battle not to completely surrender, knowing that doing so would mean having his orgasm far too soon. His tightly shut eyes weren’t simply a reaction to the pleasure; they were a desperate attempt to control the terror of losing himself and ruining the moment. Clutching the sheets grounded some rational part in him. 

Realizing you wouldn't stop anytime soon had him making the embarrassing decision to state the obvious. So amid the deafening silence, broken only by the soft moans from both of you, Heeseung’s voice sliced through.

“If you keep going, then–” he cut himself off with a shaky moan, his body betraying his words as his hips jerked upward, desperate to meet your grinding. His fingers twitched against the sheets, fighting the urge to grip your waist and force you to keep moving – a choice he made himself. “Then I won’t last…”

“Then don’t.”

His heavy eyelids fluttered open, pupils blown wide with dazed confusion after your quick, yet steady reply. The second he caught the silent demand in your eyes his breath hitched, and a shiver visibly ran through him. “What… What do you mean?”

A slow smirk curled on your lips as you laced your fingers around his wrists, pinning them to the mattress near his handsome face with enough force to act as a reminder. Your hips rolled forward, deliberate and unhurried, dragging out every friction-filled second. The heat between you was stifling, and you swore you could feel his pulse racing beneath your fingertips.

Heeseung’s gaze flickered between your piercing expression and the maddening rhythm of your hips, his flushed cheeks only growing redder. His lashes fluttered as he struggled to keep his beautiful round eyes open, his parted lips spilling out breathy whimpers, while you relished every second of it.

“You think you can cum just from me riding you fully clothed, Hee?” 

Your explanation came in the form of an ask, a very filthy, lustful guided question, your velvety tone cursing through his nerves, erasing the straight thoughts that struggled to keep existing inside his head, his self-control pathetically slipping through his inner grasp.

All Heeseung could see and feel was you, torturing his mind, pulling him deeper into the haze of overwhelming desire.

“Fuck,” he breathed a curse, head tipping back as his hands clenched into fists beneath your grip. You were unreal – his dream girl made flesh, effortlessly destroying him without even taking off a single layer of clothing. “Fuck, I definitely can, but–”

Another interruption with a beautiful whimper. Oh, you were enjoying it so much; were you in heaven? Or hell? Either way, you didn’t want to leave. 

“But…?” You urged smoothly with a mellow tone, even cocking your head to the side as if that would add a charm for your wicked character, because you, more than anyone, knew what your next decision would be.

As expected, a strangled moan escaped Heeseung when you pressed down harder, his body reacting before he could think, his back arching slightly as his expression crumbled in pleasure. 

Heeseung tried desperately to find any rational reason amid the flood of thoughts you had filled his head with – anything beyond the humiliating and obvious truth that he didn't want to reach to cum just yet.

“But I don’t have spare clothes here,” he concluded in one go, voice trembling with equal parts desperation and restraint, since he was going through a strong rush of delightful emotions. 

You hummed, amused by the fact that he could still manage to form a coherent thought in his current state. Leaning in just enough for your breath to ghost over his lips, you whispered, “Fair point, Hee,” before releasing your grip on his wrist. “Shall we solve this little problem, then?”

Without waiting for a response, you pulled away, beginning to undress your upper body, tossing your shirt carelessly onto the floor. Heeseung remained frozen in place, his hooded eyes blinking slowly, staring at the ceiling, still feeling the lingering heat of your body against his, trying to process your words.

It wasn’t until you softly murmured his nickname that his attention snapped back to you, his gaze shifting from confusion to unapologetic hunger as it took in your fully exposed form.

The gasp escaped him before he could stop it, and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh at his immediate, spontaneous reaction. The warmth in your chest contrasted with the lustful heat guiding your actions and clouding your thoughts. Heeseung was too cute for your poor heart. 

“Damn,” Heeseung whispered after propping himself up on his elbows to take you in better, his eyes filled with awe as he admired your body while you approached.

His gaze traced every inch of your skin, the curves he had so often dreamed about touching, your beautiful boobs, often where he rested his cheeks within your usual hug, now laid bare in front of him, like a perfect canvas for him to finally savor.

Heeseung’s eyes stopped on your uncovered pussy, darting back to your legs every once in a millisecond as if he didn’t know where to look. You watched as he ran his tongue over his lower lip before biting it, almost as if entranced with you. 

The compliment that followed was engulfed in sincerity, leaving no room for doubt about it. And you smiled in response.

“You’re fucking perfect.”

It was common for you to receive compliments; you were aware of your beauty and felt confident in it. However, receiving a compliment from Heeseung felt different, somehow more special, because it came from someone you cared about and liked. 

You worried about being pretty in Heeseung’s eyes. 

Thanks to the soft light in your room, you didn’t have to explain why your cheeks had flushed, knowing that from the distance Heeseung wouldn’t be able to notice.

For a brief moment you thought you would have to tell him to occupy the same form as you – naked. But thankfully he understood the message loud and clear after eye-fucking your body for a while, sitting up to remove his shirt with his back turned to you. You took the opportunity to grab a condom from your nightstand.

Heeseung stood up to unbutton his belt and slip out of his jeans, which easily fell from his hips, leaving him in just his black underwear.

You already knew he had broad shoulders and a slim waist – some of his clothing choices certainly helped accentuate that discovery, and what a delightful one it was. Seeing it up close, nonetheless, had you indescribably overreacting.

The subtle muscles of his back flexed and tightened with each movement, having you clenching your cunt without even noticing. The smooth line of his spine was being accentuated by the blended dim light and silver-moonlight, which got your breath stuck in your throat; witnessing Heeseung undressing himself felt like visiting a museum, where a carved sculpture, chiseled by the gods with the softest, kindest, and most gifted hands of Olympus lived.

Your mouth watered with an unmistakable urge to bite and taste every inch of that lightly bronzed skin.

“God. And you’re a fucking sight,” you breathed, your words barely audible but filled with hunger.

Heeseung turned to look at you holding back a grin. Your eyes locked as now you sat at the edge of the bed, waiting for the little show to finish. Your mischievous smile revealed every single naughty thought that passed through your mind, and there was no shame in it.

You pressed your teeth on your bottom lip when you got a better view of his chest, your gaze leisurely roaming, taking in every tiny detail until they stopped at the bulge in his underwear. And there, your mouth salivated harder.

Heeseung remained still, relishing the way you openly admired him; the truth behind your ravenous eyes unveiled between the two of you, heightening the heat that was becoming nearly unbearable. It was clear how badly you desired him, and this had an undeniable effect on his cock, growing harder every second, pulsing with the need of some relief. 

Being adored wasn’t exactly something new to Heeseung, but he could certainly say that the way you expressed it stirred parts of him – parts he not only kept hidden from almost everyone, but was more than eager to explore with you.

And then, you purred, “Come here, hm?”

But instead of letting Heeseung come closer, you, yourself, shifted on the bed, moving onto all fours before deliberately crawling towards him, your gaze unwavering and charged, never breaking as you drew nearer. Heeseung was utterly stunned, gulping down the lump on his throat as he watched the unfolding filthy scene.

When you finally reached his handsome and ridiculously hot figure, you stopped, uplifting your torso to get on your knees and align perfectly with his height. Now face to face Heeseung finally let out the breath he didn’t even notice he was holding, his legs threatening to falter because, fucking shit, you, with your unyielding eyes and sexy demeanor, was tearing his resistance apart, breaking deliciously each part of his cohesive existence.

Oblivious to the actual state of Heeseung, your fingers reached out, barely ghosting over the sensitive flesh of his waist as you murmured extremely close to his ear, “Let me make you feel good.”

Heeseung exhaled sharply, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his gaze darkened, flickering between your neck and your bare boobs. For a second, he hesitated, hands halting mid-air because the tension between you two was nearly suffocating and he feared scaring you with his neediness.

Would it be okay to touch you, now that you were naked? What if he exceeded any silent boundaries he didn’t manage to catch?

Fuck. You looked so damn beautiful with the lunar glow against your skin, your gleaming eyes dripping with arousal and hunger as they roamed over his features when you leaned back, drinking in each quarter with care and attention. Heeseung felt seen, cherished even.

With the way your fingertips traced his abdomen simply to position your hands there, patiently waiting for a green sign, it quickly shattered whatever restraint he had left.

With a quiet, breathy groan Heeseung closed the gap, his hands finding your jawline, fingers pressing into your skin with a need so raw it sent shivers down your spine. You also moaned against his lips, his tongue searching for yours to deepen the contact.

By a not-so-gentle reminder of its painful neglect, Heeseung felt his sensitive dick twitch inside his underwear when you pushed him towards the bed, easily maneuvering his body to return to the previous position you both were in. Your thigh brushed exactly on his length and elicited an immediate moan.

But before you could settle on top of him with your lips still attached to each other, Heeseung broke away with an aching whisper, breathless.

“I’m so fucking hard.”

You lifted your head enough to meet his gaze, cocking it to the side in feigned confusion – you had heard him perfectly well. “Hm?”

He looked so cute, his brow furrowed and those wide eyes of his looking at you with longing, mixed with a trace of desperation. It was clear that the said desperation was only growing, becoming undeniable as he jerked his hips upwards, seeking contact with your bare pussy.

With a playful smile, you pushed yourself apart slightly, watching him groan in frustration; but even with the firm grip on your waist, he didn’t force you downwards. 

“Don’t make me wait longer…”

You raised an eyebrow, biting your lower lip as a thought crossed your mind. You had to test the waters of a conversation that had yet to be broached between the two of you  –  this was still your first night, after all.

“Where are your manners, Heeseung?”

Your voice held no real reprimand, but Heeseung couldn’t help feeling the urge to respond properly, just as much. He sighed a curse, the sound shaky as you hovered your lips over the abused skin of his neck.

“Fuck,” Heeseung had completely lost himself as you moved your hips to press against his without a warning, wincing due to the feel of your cunt so close, so deliberately teasing him, yet ridiculously distant.

His eyes squeezed shut, lips pursing tightly together in an effort to suppress the pathetic sounds threatening to escape. Heat rushed to his face, the flush of embarrassment coloring his skin as he realized how effortlessly you had taken control of him; the way you wore your behavior, so assertively and confident, was making him feel vulnerable in the best way possible. 

Heeseung’s voice cracked when he finally let out a frustrated but, crucially, submissive murmur. “Sorry… Please. Just don’t make me wait any longer– I need you. I’m so hard. Please…”

The waters had been tested, proving themselves warm and inviting. Heeseung responded well to your teasing and demeanor, his reactions fueling your confidence. So, you took the plunge, leaning in until your lips barely grazed the shell of his ear. 

“Good boy.”

A strange wave crashed through his body the moment his brain processed those syllables, piecing them together into a phrase that sent a jolt straight to his core. Good boy? Fuck. Heeseung barely managed to suppress a whimper, his muscles tensing as if trying to contain the way it unraveled him.

Being called that shouldn’t affect him so much, but how could he blame himself? You looked hot, sounded hotter, and the way you said it, so effortlessly sultry, made something in him snap. He realized then that he craved being your good boy more than he was willing to admit. If he weren’t so aware of his own self-destructive tendencies he would have half a mind to set your voice as his ringtone, only to hear it over and over. But he knew better. Knew he would end up ridiculously hard every time his phone rang.

Your wicked smirk told him everything – you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Enjoying the palpable control you had over his being, you leaned back just enough to catch the flicker of change on his flushed face. His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours, swimming with undivided attention and unspoken need. A heavy pulse throbbed beneath you, and instinctively, you clenched in response.

With a mocking tilt of your head, you let your voice drop to a sarcastic, almost bitter tone, “Let’s take off this last piece, shall we?” You motioned to his underwear, helping to remove it once he obeyed you. “I don’t want to make you wait any longer.” 

Heeseung grasped the scorn in words right away, the feigned sense of authority you offered hanging in the air and, ironically enough, elicited a breathy chuckle from his throat. 

It seemed Heeseung had finally found the woman he had always dreamed of – just as you felt a thrill coursing through your veins at the sight of a man so willing to accept your demanding behavior in the bedroom.

Your gaze dropped briefly to Heeseung’s lower body, eyes catching the sight of his cock standing angry and painfully hard, its impatience nearly palpable as it waited to be enveloped by your warmth. With a mental note to appreciate that part better later, you focused simply on putting the condom, jerking off a few times just to make sure it was right. 

Positioned just right, you aligned his leaking tip with your pulsing entrance, supporting yourself by pressing your hands firmly against his chest. The subtle brush of skin against skin had Heeseung letting out a shaky sigh, his hands that had once held your hips now rising to rest gently on your waist, trembling under the weight of anticipation.

He wasn’t just sensitive; he was on edge – nervous in more ways than one. He wasn’t sure how long he would last given the teasing foreplay, and with you pushing him to the brink, he wasn’t confident he would be able to go much longer than a few minutes. But the thing was, he wanted to last. He wanted to make a good impression, to show that he had the stamina and endurance to handle whatever you asked of him. He had lasted this long, so surely, he could hold on a little longer, right?

What he didn’t realize was that the idea of reaching the peak so quickly excited you just as much as the thought of lasting. Knowing that you could reduce him to the point where he would cum fast sent an odd, pleasurable thrill deep into your stomach.

Your eyes locked, Heeseung’s wide-round ones full of both eagerness and caution. Meanwhile, you maintained your poise, your charisma unwavering.

“Shit,” you muttered softly as you sank down, feeling him fill you completely.

You almost felt ridiculous for forcing your eyes to stay open, but you couldn’t help it.

To savor the sight of Heeseung’s lips slightly parted, his breath hitching as his lashes fluttered and his head tipped back was incomparable. The sight of his exposed, sweaty neck, the prominent Adam’s apple jutting out in an almost sinful way, was too much. Without realizing it, you clenched around him.

“Fuck,” Heeseung cursed back, trying to push you further down, hoping to reach the deepest part of you.

At first, you allowed him to guide you without resistance, the sensation of him fully inside you making a pleasurable sigh slip from your lips. But as Heeseung attempted to push you into movement without waiting for your adjustment you steadied yourself, securely resisting as a silent reminder. Just to make sure, you verbalized.

“Nuh-uh,” a mischievous grin curled your lips as you looked down at him, now with open eyes, pouting and frowning at you in a blend of frustration and confusion. “It’s cute how much you think you’re in control.”

His gaze faltered as your words fully sank in, the realization hitting him like a slow, delicious burn – he had absolutely idea what he had just gotten himself into. And, God, he wanted it. 

Of course, you would set the pace. Of course, you would call the shots. And him? He would take whatever you were willing to give. That’s what he deserved – what any man would be lucky to have. A woman like you, deciding exactly what to do with him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice small, almost shaky. As if repenting for his misstep, he hesitated before slowly removing his hands from where they had rested, leaving them suspended in the air, an unspoken plea for forgiveness.

You found it adorable.

A soft, amused chuckle escaped your lips as you tilted your head, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. His irises, warm and desperate, watched you intently, hanging onto your next move with delicious longing. You reached for his wrists, gently guiding them up before pinning them to the mattress, securing them above his head.

Something about the action made Heeseung’s skin prickle with a new kind of excitement. It felt foreign but in the best way – like dipping his toes into uncharted territory and finding himself desperate to dive in. He wanted more. Feeling your warmth around him wasn’t enough. The snug heat of your walls was intoxicating, but it lacked the friction he was beginning to ache for.

“Relax,” you mused, maintaining eye contact as you read the conflict in his gaze. “I’m not that cruel.”

And with that, you rolled your hips forward, then back, deliberately slow, setting a languid rhythm that promised to build.

A guttural moan tore from Heeseung’s throat, as if he had been holding it in for God knows how long. His arms twitched, instinctively testing your grip. He could’ve easily broken free, his strength alone was enough to flip the entire situation in his favor. But he didn’t. He stayed there, restrained beneath you, completely at your mercy.

And knowing that Heeseung, tall, strong, capable, could take control at any moment, but chose not to? That alone drove you absolutely insane.

With a newfound determination – one guided by the desire to give that man just as much pleasure as he was giving you – you quickened your pace. Your own sounds spilled from your lips, unrestrained, unchecked, lost to the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

To Heeseung it was nothing short of a celestial choir. The delicate pitch of your moans, the breathy whimpers slipping through in between sent shivers down his spine. Every sound you made felt like a melody crafted just for him, threading through his veins, coiling low in his stomach, making it near impossible to think straight.

He did his best to meet your movements, hips twitching as he attempted to thrust upward, but the position did him no favors; his efforts were stifled, his range of motion limited, and as if that weren’t enough to set him on the edge, the sinful sight of your breasts bouncing right in front of him, so close yet just out of reach, only worsened his predicament.

“Fuck,” Heeseung groaned, his voice laced with frustration and raw need. A slow, burning heat spread through his body, intensifying with each calculated movement of your hips, the sensation pooling deep in his lower stomach.

Your gaze drifted to his face, taking in the way his features twisted in pleasure. His eyes barely managed to stay open, rolling back as the squeeze of your walls tightened around him, gripping him in a way that made his breath hitch.

Your hips now moved with purpose, with intention; the way you shifted your motions between rocking back and forth, to bouncing, to drawing circles, making sure his dick touched every part of your warm and slick interior was maddening. 

And Heeseung’s body ached for yours just as much. 

“Please–” The first actual plea fell past his parted lips, a cry tone covering each syllable with an attractive lust. “Don't stop. I’m getting close–”

Defying his request, however, you decided to slowly decrease your pace to something that drew Heeseung way too close to completely losing it. He looked at you like you were crazy, though he also had the chance to appreciate the faint light that bathed the room, the silver moonlight gleaming on your skin like an ethereal, priceless painting.

Your actions, on the other hand, were evil as hell.

In between a soft giggle, you leaned forward to approach his lips, muttering, “You want that, don't you?”

A silent nod and one more broken, whispered “Please,” from him graced your ears, eliciting your smile to grow wickedly. Then, you brushed your lips against his in a fleeting kiss, barely there, just enough to tease.

As you pulled away, you caught his bottom lip between yours, sucking it gently before letting it slip free with a soft, wet pop. The momentary loss of contact had Heeseung chasing after you, his body acting on pure instinct, pathetically desperate, but you only watched, amused at his demeanor.

You released his wrists, only to guide his warm hands to the connection of your waist and thighs, your own palms covering them to ensure they stayed exactly where you wanted.

With your back straight and posture unwavering, your body went completely still as you lifted yourself ever so slightly – just enough to leave only the pulsing tip of his length nestled inside you, offering no friction, no relief.

“I'm not moving, Hee…” The teasing lilt in your voice was so blatant it was almost cruel.

Heeseung swallowed hard, his gaze roaming over you, trying to ground himself in the feeling of your skin beneath his fingers. But it was useless, he was already too far gone, lost in the pleasure that you so effortlessly denied him.

With a voice like silk, dripping with wicked delight, you murmured, “Show me how desperate you are.”

Heeseung’s breath hitched, his lightly teary eyes darting up to meet yours before flickering downward, lingering on the tantalizing view of your bare chest, and finally settling on where your bodies were still joined.

There was a flash of hesitation, of confusion and innocence, but the moment he caught the knowing smirk on your lips, the way you remained idle, expectant, understanding dawned on him.

“Come on, Hee,” you urged, rolling your hips just enough to offer the barest hint of friction, a mere whisper of what he craved. “Be a good boy for me, mmh?”

Heeseung's grip on your sides tightened with fervor, his darkened gaze searching yours for confirmation – a silent plea to ensure this was exactly what you wanted. The subtle nod you gave was all he needed. Bracing himself, he propped his knees up, pressing his feet into the mattress for support before thrusting into you.

The first stroke was tentative, his body shuddering as he fully sheathed himself inside you once more, adjusting to the scorching heat that enveloped him. But once he settled, his hesitation melted into determination. Heeseung seized your hips, pulling you down with the same force he drove upward, setting a relentless rhythm that filled the air with the sinful melody of skin meeting skin, mingling with the desperate sounds spilling from your lips.

Your hands instinctively sought stability against the headboard, but the moment Heeseung found that sweet spot inside you, angled just right, you abandoned any attempt. Instead, you melted against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, your moans and breathless whimpers vibrating against his sweat-slicked skin. Your fingers tangled in his messy strands, clutching for purchase as pleasure spiraled higher.

“Hee–Heeseung,” you nearly sobbed, your voice trembling, a blissful hum following right after. “Right there. Right fucking there,” you gritted out, laced with a warning tone so he wouldn’t dare to stop. 

And he wouldn’t. Not when you squeezed around him like that. Not when your voice turned so sweetly desperate near his ear. Not when he felt you tremble with each merciless thrust straight into that spot.

The coil felt impossibly tight, the telltale heat building in his core, threatening to snap at any second. Heeseung was helpless to fight it, his release crashing over him with overwhelming intensity; his entire body tensed as he slammed his hips up one final time, holding you there, buried to the hilt, shaking as he moaned your name with shameless abandon. 

The way he gripped you, the way he trembled beneath you, the guttural sounds spilling from his lips and, fuck, how firmly he pressed right into your cervix was more than enough to push you over the edge. You shattered around him, clenching so hard it pulled another ragged groan from his throat, your own cries of pleasure filling the space as you unraveled together.

Heeseung filled the condom inside of your sensitiveness and sent a wave of aftershock through your body, the pleasant high still coating your senses

Heavy, ragged breaths were all that remained in the aftermath, your thighs burning with exhaustion, your body too spent to move. Heeseung was no better – completely dazed, lost in the intoxicating haze of pleasure.

At some point, Heeseung genuinely wondered if he had just died; his entire body slackened after holding so much tension and releasing it through an overwhelming orgasm, a blissful numbness overtaking his limbs. And honestly? If this was the afterlife, he wouldn’t mind staying a little longer.

Monday morning felt as ordinary as any other – except it wasn’t. Not really. Because, apparently, your new normal now involved making out with Heeseung in the parking lot, tucked away behind his car like a couple of reckless teenagers sneaking around.

The difference? You were both adults. Professors, no less. The same ones who had caught students kissing in this very spot more times than you could count.

“Will I see you later?” You asked, voice deliberately sweet, a playful melody slipping through.

It was a side of you that only surfaced around Heeseung, one he seemed to enjoy, judging by the way he looked at you – eyes filled with something warm, something fond.

His hands rested securely on your waist, your arms draped over his shoulders, fingers idly playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. Everything was in its rightful place.

“Not sure if I can, babe.”

Babe.

The pet name had rolled off his tongue for the first time that morning when he greeted you, as effortless as the kiss that followed, although he had cheeks burning in shyness afraid of your reaction. Nonetheless, you didn’t mind one bit; not when it sent a pleasant flutter through your chest, butterflies swirling in your stomach at the sound of it. It was far too nice of a feeling to brush off.

You pouted, though you didn’t push for an answer. “That’s okay.”

Still, Heeseung felt the need to explain. “I’ve got a meeting with the principal.”

The mere mention of that title made your heart jolt and a brief grimace filled your features. Your gaze darted around on instinct, as if expecting the man to materialize out of thin air. Heeseung chuckled, clearly amused with your adorable reaction. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one freaking out?” He teased, tilting your chin up so you would meet his gaze again. His thumb brushed over your jaw in a way that sent a delightful shiver down your spine. “I’m the new hire, after all. Your job is way more secure than mine.”

“Which is exactly why I’m being careful,” you shot back, your playful smirk making him shake his head, clicking his tongue. “I don’t wanna have to visit you at another school.”

“Idiot,” he huffed, rolling his eyes before kissing you again, shutting you up effectively, as your giggle got lost amidst the touch.

That newfound intimacy with Heeseung was sudden, yet it could easily become a routine – one you would never tire of, nor worry about growing dull. There was an undeniable clarity in how every touch, every exchange with him felt like it would only surprise and satisfy you more than the last. The way he held you, how he enveloped you in a cocoon of warmth and quiet affection, was something you allowed yourself to sink into without resistance. 

The previous day had been an unintentional experiment, one that had answered questions you hadn’t even realized you had. 

Truth be told, your interest in Heeseung had sparked the very first time you met. The tension, the lingering glances, the way your breath hitched in his presence – it had all been telling signs that liking him was inevitable. Falling for him? Even more so. He not only embraced your personality but adapted to it so effortlessly, just as you found yourself welcoming every meticulous, endearing detail about him. Falling for Heeseung felt easy. Natural. Maybe even fated.

Kissing him was like dissolving into an ocean of calm and reassurance you hadn’t known you craved – or needed. Kissing him was slowly, irrevocably, becoming everything.

The chime of your phone interrupted the moment, the alarm you had set reminding you that it was time to head inside. Yes. You had both arrived early just to steal a few moments alone, and yes, you had actually set a timer to make sure you wouldn’t lose track of time.

As you pulled away, your gaze immediately sought his, desperate to capture one last glimpse of that breathtaking face.

“Well, guess I’ll see you around,” you sighed, lips jutting out in another small pout. The idea of not seeing him again for the rest of the day left a dull ache in your chest, and in the past, that feeling might have unsettled you.

But here, with his hands still firm on your waist, grounding you, you could only think of how much more you wanted to stay and feel everything he could yield to you.

Heeseung smirked before pecking your lips quickly, his eyes glinting with something that was equal parts fondness and longing – with just a hint of something else. Something that told you he, too, wished he could spend the rest of the day with you. Or maybe all the days after that.

“See you, babe.”

So saying your classes had been boring ever since was an understatement. Sure, you loved what you did. You had studied and dedicated yourself from day one to get where you were. Designing projects, planning assignments, even crafting exams gave you a very particular thrill that nothing else quite matched – until Heeseung came along.

Not having him around left you restless, almost anxious, like counting the minutes wasn’t enough to settle you. You needed him here. Every single second.

The problem was that work consumed both of you in ways neither could escape. As a new hire, Heeseung was still juggling personal studies while handling the avalanche of subjects thrown onto his plate to deal with. You, on the other hand, already a few steps ahead in the hierarchy, carried the weight of being a solid reference for others, staying committed to improving every day, striving towards eventually securing a senior position.

Making a name for yourself in academia demanded everything – writing papers, conducting deeper, more intensive research. You had carved out time in your routine to focus on it. But now, all you could focus on was Heeseung.

Heeseung was affecting your emotions, your life, and your behavior. There was no denying it.

Throughout your life, you had always been decisive, firm in your choices, knowing what was best for you without hesitation. Sure, there was a level of flexibility and freedom, but even that was deeply tied to your essence. You grew up in spaces that tried to tame you, but that only made you more aware of your own vastness, the greatness you wanted to embrace.

There were no second thoughts. Not frequently, at least. There was no other way to be yourself without shutting out external noise, without disregarding the opinions of those who barely knew you. That built a barrier, one you had come to see as normal, where only a select few ever glimpsed your vulnerability. The thought of being seen in your most hesitant, insecure state was terrifying.

Then, Heeseung.

He made you vulnerable, somehow, to be open about worries you would usually brush off and avoid talking about, and it never felt forced; it was effortless, natural, he genuinely wanted to listen, and even help.

At the same time, he made you self-conscious about things you had never cared for before. Your hair, your outfit choices – would they draw the same reaction he always gave you? That slow, shameless gaze, eyes dark with attraction, followed by a compliment so sweet it almost rivaled the warmth in his own deep, espresso-colored stare.

He had you questioning if you fit into the mold of what he might want, never realizing that, to him, you as you were had always been enough.

At home, staring at the empty page of the research paper you were supposed to be working on, your mind was nowhere near academic focus. It was filled with the longing to have him close. No ulterior motives, no underlying intentions, just his presence. Just him. The warmth of his scent in the air, grounding you, centering you.

A thought lingered in the back of your mind. Was it too much to wish you were already living together? Or at least close enough to have him around all the time? You could picture it so clearly: the faint smell of soap clinging to the air as he walked into your office, setting a fresh cup of coffee on your desk, dressed in cozy, oversized clothes, his usual soft expression in place, trying to coax you to bed with him using those beautiful bambi-eyes.

Fuck.

Your fingers curled around your phone instinctively, his contact already pulled up before you even processed the action. But just as quickly, you let out a sharp breath and placed it back down, screen-side down on the desk. Running your hands over your temples, you exhaled, forcing yourself to focus back on the laptop in front of you.

In terms of relationships, balance had never been your strong suit if you tried to be honest; not knowing when to shut out emotions and focus solely on work because of affectual interests, or when to let yourself indulge in personal desires – especially now, when Heeseung had completely messed with your ability to separate the two. 

Because everything with him felt inevitable. The meetings, the glances, the desire. And whatever this was, this unnamed thing between you, it was starting to feel dangerously close to building a place to settle that thing called love. 

On a side note, there was this ongoing feeling of going too fast, of overdoing. The kiss was alright in terms of period, but the sex only two days later? Wasn’t it too… exaggerated? Did it really please him?

You were always so sure of yourself, yet, with Heeseung, you were walking a tightrope, afraid of losing him or losing yourself in the process. Sex with him had only intensified things, your mind spinning amidst a dense cloud of thoughts. Whatever fragile restraints had been holding you back from falling completely had snapped, like some unseen force was screaming at you to open your eyes.

He was exactly what you wanted.

But what if it all fell apart? What if he didn’t want anything serious? The doubts tried to creep in, but the image of his charming smile fought to erase them. Heeseung.

The man who carried a quiet, bashful aura but sometimes put on a confident front, only to fumble shortly after, making you laugh at how effortlessly endearing he was.

The man who hesitated to touch you but, when he did, held you with certainty, with possession, as if having you close was the only thing he was ever sure of.

The man who memorized your coffee order and would show up in the morning with a steaming cup, shrugging casually as he muttered, “The morning coffee here kinda sucks. A pretty girl once taught me that. So, I got you a real one.”

The man who read you so easily, as if every little part of you was worth memorizing. 

“Damn,” you muttered under your breath, the sound of your own voice startling you in the silence that had settled over the past few hours – save for the rustling leaves outside and the mess inside your mind.

You bit down on your lower lip, your chest tightening with a feeling you could only name as longing. There was no other explanation. You missed Heeseung.

After days of sneaking moments together before classes, and barely having time to exchange messages in between, Heeseung had become part of your routine, fitting like a moon pulling the tide just right, a slow dance of heartbeats syncing. And you wanted him to stay in it.

But then came the tide of uncertainties. Would he slip away just as quickly as he had settled in? Were you moving too fast? Would it hurt to dive headfirst into something so intense? Yet, Heeseung wasn’t shallow waters, you wouldn’t hit rock bottom if you chose to dive into the depth of him.

Still, amidst the inner turmoil, the voice of reason, one that years of therapy had helped you shape, resurfaced: you wouldn’t know unless you asked. If he wasn’t truthful, that was on him, but all you could do was trust the words he chose to give you.

And Heeseung had never given you a reason to doubt him. There was no air of deception in his presence, no undertone of dishonesty in his words. His gaze held sincerity, his smile radiated warmth. He seemed genuine in everything he did, in every subtle move, in every interaction. In the way his lips ghosted over yours, the way he pulled you close, the way he let you take the lead more often than not.

He was just… too good.

You barely noticed your fingers sliding across your phone screen until you found his contact, dialing before you could second-guess yourself. No warning, no message, just your voice reaching out to him in the thick of the night, unfiltered, unguarded.

With each ring, your heart pounded harder, matching the steady rhythm of it. And when Heeseung finally answered, his voice rough with sleep yet laced with that familiar tenderness he always carried when it came to you, your breath hitched. No explanations, no preamble. Without thinking, without even registering how late it was or that you had probably woken him, you asked.

“Do you think we're going too fast?”

On the other end of the line, Heeseung, who had just settled into the comfort of his bed after reviewing his lessons for the next day, immediately sat up to give you his full attention. Instead of probing further, he picked up on the underlying worry in your voice, the slight hint of anxiety, and chose his words carefully.

“No, I don’t think we are. Honestly, we’re just right, babe,” he said, with a double meaning carefully embedded not just to respond to your question but to remove any lingering doubts. His voice, as soft as ever, was clear when he added, “What made you think we’re moving too fast, love?”

Love.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry.” You muttered under your breath, unable to suppress the immediate reaction that his endearment caused. Another one added to the collection, this one carrying a different weight – one that sank deep in your stomach, settling in your chest in a surreal... but strangely comforting way.

Unbeknownst to you, Heeseung found himself caught in a whirlwind of emotions; a tremor of apprehension coursing through his veins, yet warmth blooming in his chest, right where his heart pounded just a little too fast, a little too hard. He couldn’t deny the pet name had rolled off his tongue without forethought, slipping past his lips as naturally as a heartbeat. 

He waited in the silence, not just because he feared he had messed up, but because he genuinely wanted you to clarify the reason behind your sudden call and the unexpected question. He respected your need to reflect before responding.

But the silence... It was growing deafening.

“I– I don’t know what’ve gotten to me, actually,” you finally confessed, leaning back in your chair with a sigh. Your brow furrowed as you tried to make sense of your own words before they left your mouth. “I think it’s just a fear of losing what we have, mixed with a hesitation to dive into something that’s giving me some uncertainty.”

Now it was Heeseung’s turn to let silence speak for him. Uncertainty? Was that what he was making you feel? Unsure? The thought alone sent a heavy weight crashing down on his chest, his stomach dropping as a chill spread through his body, seeping into his bones like ice water. His throat tightened, the unspoken question lodged there, thick and heavy, pressing against his vocal cords until he finally forced it out.

“Am I giving you uncertainty, Y/N?”

The change in Heeseung’s voice, from soft to serious, was evident and sent an instant wave of panic through you.

“No!” You responded urgently, your voice rising a few notes, and you automatically straightened up in your chair as though it would help to elucidate what you meant. “No, not you. Not at all. Quite the opposite. I trust everything you do and show me through your actions and words. I trust what you say. I trust how you feel. I trust you.”

“It’s good to know,” he replied, his voice softer again, “because I trust you too. In every way.”

There was a thin, delicate line between the weight of his words, a line that stretched from your physical connection previously explored to the deeper trust you were building together. You both were learning how to create a comfortable space for one another, even though it sometimes came with its own set of challenges and discomfort.

Another moment of silence stretched out between you two as though the air itself had become weighed down by invisible clouds of tension. It was like a storm had suddenly rolled in, filling the room with a suffocating pressure that made it difficult to breathe; your lungs felt tight, struggling to maintain a normal rhythm.

But Heeseung… Heeseung was the one who read you once again. It was as if he could read every chapter of your life with a quiet understanding, his fingers tracing each line of your story with such ease. It wasn’t about knowing what came next or predicting the end, it was about savoring the journey, knowing that each new chapter would only lead him to admire you more and want you just as much.

Breaking the silence, his voice was gentle when he said. “I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming in a few.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, your shoulders shifting slightly as you did so, “Yeah. There is.”

Heeseung had fully reclined against the headboard of his bed by now, his legs stretched out and subtly fidgeting with a subtle, almost sweet kind of nervousness – the kind that felt eerily, yet delightfully similar to having a crush.

Heeseung flushed easily whenever you looked at him for too long, and quickly averted his gaze when you crossed paths in the hall, afraid that his emotions might spill over and give him away. His ears would go red every time you complimented him, and the memories of the night you two shared would replay in his mind over and over again, stirring sensations that were both tender and a little... impolite.

And to top it all off, wrapping it up together, it was impossible for him to hide the way his heart raced at just the thought of seeing you, let alone touching you, kissing you, or being in more intimate, vulnerable spaces with you – not only sexually but in terms of personal experiences, too.

Exploring different aspects of life with you sounded exciting, he could feel his pulse quickening with some kind of thrill he couldn’t remember experiencing before. Right now, however, the throbbing beats of his heart signaled dread, pointing out that he wasn’t just excited to continue on that path with you, but he feared losing the possibility to do so. 

“I trust you, Hee.” Simply to be certain, you repeated yourself. “But I can’t lie that this scares me to some extent,” Heeseung hummed in agreement for you to keep talking. You bit your lip, suddenly feeling shy. “I don’t think I ever cared this much about how things were going, y’know? I never cared if I should wear a color that someone thinks looks pretty on me. Or that I should act some way… Or even if I– if I had sex before actually dating someone. I don’t have a problem with that.”

On the other side, Heeseung blushed. It was the actual first time that “dating” was brought into a conversation between you two and although it was the natural course of relationships, he never thought about having to ask you to be his girlfriend.

It wasn’t because he didn’t want to, but because he thought it was more than obvious that he was with you and only you. Hearing those words, though, shed light on his thoughts, and he made a mental note to plan something special and ask you to be his girlfriend.

Heeseung was willing to listen to every little concern you had and to offer you the security you needed. And if that meant simply asking you to be his, then he would do so with all the joy in the world.

“And then you call me love.”

There it was, the root of the issue. Heeseung sighed softly, but it wasn’t a sigh of exhaustion from what you were saying, it was more of a realization, a moment where everything clicked and he finally understood what had been causing all these thoughts to swirl around.

“Y/N,” he said gently, your name flowing from his lips like honey. You hummed in response. “First of all, I’m sorry for not clarifying my intentions better. I don’t think we’re moving too fast. In fact, I really like our dynamic and how we seem to make things work between us.”

Hearing his side of things, without having to imagine terrible monsters in your head, was freeing. You finally understood what set Heeseung apart from the others: he made a point to communicate and, most importantly, to listen to you.

“And... I called you ‘love’ not because I love you. Not yet.” Instead of the weight of heartache and unrelenting tension, you... relaxed. There was no pressure for any rush. “I called you love because I think it’s a cute nickname, and I do want to love you, Y/N. Eventually.” He paused, his voice thick with sincerity. “I think love is something that’s built, crafted little by little, by both sides. I don’t say it if I don’t mean it.”

A smile spread across your face, warmth blooming in your chest. “I want to love you too, Hee.”

“So let’s take this at our pace. How does that sound?” He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing, as though his thoughts had passed the barrier of caution and were now spilling out freely. “I want to kiss you every morning before work because I like you. But you don’t have to feel pressured to like me back.”

“I do like you, though,” you murmured quietly, almost like it was a secret.

Heeseung chuckled softly, a low, subtle sound that perfectly matched the soothing atmosphere that had settled around you both. “I’m thankful then.”

A gentle silence fell over the moment, your heart racing, but not from anxiety. It was because, for the first time, you felt like you had found someone truly important, someone special and irreplaceable, who seemed willing to build something real with you.

If Heeseung read you like his favorite book, you wanted to create an incredible story with him. And with that thought, you asked, under the moonlight that spilled through your curtains.

“Let’s start our chapter one. Shall we?”

“I love kissing you, oh my God,” Heeseung whispered against your mouth, words muffed as you pressed your bodies together.

With only a few minutes left before the lecture you both were set to deliver, a sudden wave of nervousness crashed over you, hitting deep as the realization settled: soon, you would be sharing the stage to talk about an extremely important topic with the very man who had starred in your most sinful dreams. Dreams that, over the past few weeks, had shifted from mere fantasy into breathtaking reality.

It was a relatively large lecture in terms of audience size, and while it was the kind of event you genuinely enjoyed with a dynamic exchange of ideas between the speakers, with the audience observing the unfolding of thoughts, you had been assigned as the main host.

Heeseung, still new to this environment, was positioned as the co-host, with you acting as his guide, leading the discussion and stepping in if needed.

Not once did you doubt Heeseung’s abilities. Over the past few days, both of you had dedicated intense yet careful effort to reviewing every key point, ensuring that nothing was left unpolished. That was when you noticed just how similar he was to you. He preferred to structure his speech around key topics, allowing the conversation to flow naturally, trusting in his knowledge rather than rigidly following a script.

And, God, was he hot when he read through his notes with furrowed eyebrows in deep concentration, glasses perched perfectly on his round, yet pointy nose, those dark eyes scanning the words with precise focus. It was unfair, really, how effortlessly attractive he looked while working.

Furthermore, Heeseung showed signs of apprehension as well during the minutes before starting it; added with how delectable he looked in that dress shirt and gold-framed glasses and to kill two birds with one stone, you lured the said man into following you to a nearby bathroom, using the excuse of needing his help to grab some materials you forgot in another class.

In reality, your plan was to grab his collar and pull him into the confined space to share some kisses. And of course, the kisses were leading to something way more far than you expected.

Heeseung had discovered that kissing you was his favorite sport, and even as his lungs burned and begged for relief, he would rather lose himself in your lips than pull away. Dying in your arms because he couldn’t bear to let you go sounded both poetic and achingly genuine.

Then, there was almost a shift, as though a switch clicked, and the kiss would grow deeper and more wanting. It remained slow, perfectly slow and affectionate, but carried an undeniable neediness. Hands once resting respectfully on waists and necks would begin to wander, indulging in the freedom to explore lustful territories, and Heeseung’s body would start to betray him, throbbing in anticipation. 

That one kiss, however, was escalating quickly into a frantic rhythm, heading towards a heated and intense atmosphere far too inappropriate for a workplace. But, on your part, you seemed to care little, feeling a burning need for him like never before.

It was an odd sensation, this overwhelming desire to have Heeseung inside you in the most sinful way possible. The kiss, which had started as a means to calm your nerves, quickly morphed into a chaotic tangle of hands ruffling clothes and hair, desperately grabbing at any inch of covered and exposed skin as a way to relieve the growing arousal between you two. Breaths intertwined in a fiery rhythm, each exhale more desperate than the last.

“Fuck,” you moaned against Heeseung’s lips as his large hands gripped your ass, squeezing with an urgency that made your head spin and your breath to hitch. 

Your beautiful noise triggered an electric pulse that shot straight to Heeseung’s arousal state, causing his dick to become increasingly stiff, the fabric around it starting to feel suffocating. He pushed you back against the sink’s counter, lifting you effortlessly and seating you on the edge, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

Your fingers gripped his face tightly, almost as if you were afraid of losing him, weaving into his tousled hair, feeling the soft strands that had grown just enough to become your new addiction. Heeseung’s touch was like a drug, each caress making it harder to pull away from him, as if losing yourself amidst his brown locks would somehow break the spell.

His hands roamed lower, exploring with a quiet urgency, trying to trace every inch of you without leaving actual marks; your thighs were his favorite place to lose himself and in any other given moment he would definitely be buried deep between them.

Seeking a break to allow your breaths to find a steady rhythm, Heeseung trailed his lips down your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. Yet, his movements were slightly hindered by the persistent frame of his glasses, which kept getting in the way , nudging against your skin, slipping down his nose, and frustrating his efforts to fully indulge in the moment. 

Although he struggled to ignore, he made sure one of his hands remained firmly planted on the marble surface behind you, ensuring you wouldn't lose balance, while the other wandered shamelessly over your thigh, fingertips tracing the fabric of your tailored slacks with deliberate intent.

“You look so fucking good in these,” he murmured between wet, heated kisses, his lips mapping out the sensitive spot on your neck he already knew too well.

A soft, breathy chuckle escaped you as you tilted your head back, granting him full access, your own fingers getting lost amidst his hair, pulling him closer. But just as quickly as the amusement flickered across your face, it melted into an expression contorted in pleasure, body betraying you.

“I always wear these…” You managed to whisper, your voice barely audible.

Heeseung let out a low giggle against your skin, a sinful sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Exactly,” he mused, voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re always so fucking hot.”

Without even realizing it, your hips rolled forward, chasing the friction your body so desperately craved. And it was only then, as a deep heat pooled low in your stomach, that you became fully aware of just how ruined your panties already were. You were wet and needy for something, for someone. Precisely, for Heeseung. 

Having his touch so close to your pulsing cunt made it difficult not to get more demanding of contact, to succumb into whatever he was willing to give you, so you guided your command. 

“Help me remove it.”

Heeseung didn’t question further – he didn’t have to. Not when you had made your intentions crystal clear as your hand trailed down to unbutton your pants, fingers working decisively and quickly. Without hesitation, you reached for his hand, leading it to the waistband of your pants and urging him to tug them down, silently inviting him to take things beyond mere kisses.

The air was thicker than ever when Heeseung halted his kisses on your neck and saw your bare thighs as well as a glimpse of the wet spot in your panties, swallowing the lump formed in his throat. His body reacted immediately, the sight setting every nerve on fire and making it impossible to focus on anything else other than your pussy.

His lips fell ajar, whispering ragged breaths that rawly exposed his desire; the clenched jaw also was an indicator he was getting just as needy, and his cock growing heavier and harder inside his underwear was barely containable. 

“I want your fingers,” within a murmur, you revealed what you wanted once realization hit you about Heeseung. He was about to get on his knees in order to be at the height of your pulsing core, his eyes locked with it as if he was in trance, but you didn’t have time to enjoy a proper head. 

Besides, that part of his body was definitely one of your biggest weaknesses. 

Heeseung looked at you with that mesmerizing gaze, filled with a type of confusion and innocence that you only met in them, where somehow it molded a perfect fuckable expression that gnawed at your necessity of ruining it.

Then, you pulled the hand resting in your thigh to guide it towards your mouth, where you gently wrapped your lips around his middle and ring finger, enveloping them into the warmthness of your humid interior; your tongue danced between them as you deliberately sucked, not once breaking eye contact. 

Heeseung’s breath struggled to keep a pace, his eyes charmed by the alluring view you were giving – and for free. He was focused, as if you were spilling all the important information in the world to him; instead, you were making his dick twitch, since the feeling of your wet muscle brushing against his skin were sending straightforward messages to his sensitive and neglected area. He had to hold back a pathetic whimper threatening to escape.

With a smirk, you released Heeseung’s fingers slightly covered in your saliva, a string of the fluid connecting both areas, but held them close to your lips, grazing over it.

When you next talked, it tickled both skins. “I want them,” and, slowly but surely, you directed his hand downwards, Heeseung intense stare following until you stopped on your pussy, where, with your other hand, you pushed your underwear to the side. “Here.”

It was amusing and funny to perceive the way Heeseung’s breath hitched in his throat before he let out a sharp gasp, his gaze locking onto yours in search of an answer beyond the obvious, like he was utterly stunned with your request.

“Right now?” He asked, his voice airy, every ounce of disbelief laid bare as well as the typical hint of innocence and confusion. Heeseung was so fucking adorable. Having his big bambi eyes decorated by those gold-framed glasses was a sinful image.

Yet, his reaction stood in contrast to his actions; he was already closing the small space between you, his fingers, the very ones you had guided there, now teasing against your pulsing, needy pussy.

“Yes, baby,” you nodded, a taunting sultry grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “Right now.”

Heeseung watched in awe and with his heartbeats accelerated how confident on your demand you were by forcing his fingers inside before releasing your grip, leaving your wetness in full display to his digits to play with; you had flattened your palms on the counter beneath you, searching for support and to grant easier access.

“Fuck,” he whispered, feeling the unmistakable throb of his dick inside his underwear. 

Randomly, a flicker of moral consciousness urged Heeseung to glance towards the locked bathroom door, as if someone might materialize out of thin air and catch the two of you in an undeniably compromising position.

This wasn’t him. He had always been the ideal student and eventually the dedicated professional, the man who prided himself on focus and discipline… But how the hell was he supposed to resist you?

The restroom you had chosen was one reserved for faculty – small but comfortable, designed for privacy, with only a single stall and sink. More than enough space to accommodate two professors caught in the heat of their desires.

Unlike Heeseung, you weren’t oblivious to the whispered stories of other faculty members using the same space for similar purposes, and that knowledge alone reassured you that the risk of getting caught was low.

But Heeseung’s sudden hesitation became palpable when he turned to look at you, one of his fingers still slowly burying itself inside you, yet his expression now laced with uncertainty, concern evident in the subtle furrow of his brows.

“Relax, baby,” you murmured, voice tinged with quiet reassurance as you rolled your hips forward, urging him deeper. Your half-lidded eyes locked onto his, inviting, unwavering. Heeseung winced. “I need you, hm?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. His breath faltered. And as if your words had snapped the last thread of restraint holding him back, his hesitation melted away, replaced by something darker, more desperate.

So Heeseung positioned himself into a comfortable position where his face was hidden in the crook of your neck, smelling the perfect mix of your perfume and natural scent while taking advantage to kiss you there. One arm held your waist and steaded your body while his other hand busied itself to please you.

Although it had started with one digit to stretch you out before adding the second one, you had to bite your lower lip in order to suppress the noises threatening to escape, since Heeseung easily found your sensitive spot from the very beginning and made sure to hit it with precision within each pound. And because of that, the strange intrusion quickly turned into a delightful wave of arousal flushing through your interior, your muffled whines growing louder.

Hearing your suppressed moans, however, was shattering Heeseung’s self-control, making it exponentially harder to contain the urge to get some relief himself. So almost unconsciously, yet deliberately, his hips started to move back and forth, brushing the painful boner on the edge of the counter.

“Fuck,” you mewled, hands flying to hold on Heeseung’s shoulders, intending to somehow anchor your spinning head and lost thoughts, but everything felt overwhelmingly good and you became pathetically desperate to have your orgasm. “Love your fingers, baby.”

The praise was more than honest, because Heeseung did, in fact, an amazing job inside you; flickering his fingers with mastery to curl at the very moment you needed them to, now speeding up the pace of his movements, wrists nearly burning from the exercise – and fortunately, he had no intention of stopping anytime soon. Not without your juices coating his digits.

You almost failed to catch the act of his hips rocking into anything that could give him some friction and consequently some kind of satisfaction. You even briefly wondered if your ears were deceiving you when soft moans grazed the skin of your neck, but Heeseung quickly confirmed your doubts not long after.

“I'm so hard,” he whined breathy in your neck, the pace on his fingers never faltering although his entire body shuddered within each soft thrust into the counter. 

From your lips, a cascade of curses blended with soft moans dripped, bouncing on the stillness of the walls surrounding you two, now more than never caring a little to nothing about getting caught; you, yourself, already extremely lost into pleasure the two digits fucking your pulsing cunt were providing. 

The position allowed his palm to glide across your bundle of nerves, ever so slightly giving the contact to drive you insane, you could feel your climax approaching. Your hands clutched the fabric of his blazer and you moaned. 

“So fucking good–”

“Will you cum for me, yeah?” Heeseung urged desperately, consciously wishing to finish you fast enough so you could help him out before heading back; even when he was somehow in control, he sounded completely surrendered to you, as if you owned each unique piece of his soul.

“Yes, yes, yes! I fucking will, oh my God,” your eyes rolled back and your whole body trembled, your muscles tensing the moment the coil in your core snapped.

Heeseung didn’t stop a second, fucking you through your high as your liquid drenched your long gone panties, stirring wet lewd sounds from the in and out. Your body jolted, nearly convulsing as Heeseung’s name fell past your lips amidst sobs; you noticed the mildly drying tears at the corner of your eyes as the world around you crumbled briefly into a blur.

“So pretty,” Heeseung murmured with his raspy tone against your cheek, kindly kissing the area as his fingers gradually slowed, eventually coming to a halt.

At the back of his mind, though, there was a faint reminder about the lecture waiting for both of you, so the time was running short – and he had a big problem to solve before going back.

You felt languid, too relaxed. Maybe you had overdone it with the dose of Heeseung that had seeped into your system, leaving your body in a state of calm you hadn't expected, but you didn’t regret it for a second. 

Now you would have to hope you had an extra pair of underwear tucked somewhere in your bag and pray for a little jolt to snap you back into reality, to remind you that your soul hadn’t been completely drained by Heeseung’s skilled fingers.

Speaking of which, Heeseung was dotting your neck and face with gentle kisses, patiently waiting for you to regain some semblance of consciousness, to come back down from wherever you had just floated off to. The sound of a notification on your phone, however, was enough to drag you back immediately.

You startled, almost leaping off the counter in a frantic search for your phone, your hands fumbling until they finally brushed against it behind you. Your heart raced so loudly you swore it might burst from your chest.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath as you read the message from the principal calling you backstage.

Meanwhile, Heeseung continued his affectionate attack on your neck, like a needy little kitten, completely unaware of the devious plan that had just been planted in your head; he was hard, and now, you were certain you wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it. A wicked, almost mischievous smile tugged at your lips as you typed a quick reply.

“Hee,” you said, pushing him gently away from you by his chest. But he wasn’t ready to let go. “Hee, listen to me. I have to go.”

“Huh?” He leaned back only to look at you, his large eyes brimming with desperation, though now confusion started to creep in.

“Yeah,” you showed him the message, watching how his gaze flicked rapidly over the words. You couldn’t help but notice – and enjoy – the way his expression shifted: first, confusion, then realization that you weren’t about to stay and finish what he so desperately wanted, and, to close it all, a flawless culmination of his state, expressing a combination of both desperation and frustration in equal measure.

His lips were swollen and slightly parted, he was just as breathless as you and it was an amusing vision, because you didn't even do anything to leave him like that. Your noises and reactions, and the feeling of your clenching pussy around his thick fingers were more than enough, apparently; being aware of that fact made a warm, comforting sensation rise in your chest, almost as if your self-confidence depended solely on it at that moment. It inflated your ego in the bestest way.

Before jumping out of the counter, you settled his messy, disheveled strands caused by your early fidgety hands.

“But what about... Me?” He finally asked with puckered lips, pleading eyes and a soft, nearly helpless expression. You almost folded. Almost.

With a final touch by adjusting his blazer, smoothing out any wrinkles that would give away your small adventure, you smiled. 

“Behave.”

Heeseung watched in pure astonishment as you removed your panties completely, folding it into a small ball and throwing it into the trash. Then, you cleaned yourself quickly, washing your hands, acting as if nothing had happened. 

His body refused to move due to his dumbfounded state. You weren’t that devil, were you?

Turning on your heels with the biggest smile ever, you searched for his lips to give it a small peck, “Behave and I'll reward you later,” and just like that, you patted his head and winked.

“But–”

“Be a good boy, Heeseung,” you instantly cut any possibility of disagreement, holding his face in place to keep eye contact. “Can you do that for me?”

Unseen by you, his dick twitched inside his slacks. He gulped down the urge to lock you into that bathroom and fuck your mouth, because the idea of having his body used by you later was far better. 

“Yes.”

Though you had grinned at his whispered answer, your squinted your eyes gave away you were waiting for something more. Heeseung felt blood rushing towards his face, his cheeks with a faint blush, burning, as his gaze flickered away when he replied properly.

“Yes, I can be your good boy.”

You had never been the type to break promises. Not even the smallest, most trivial ones, and especially not the ones left unspoken. If you promised something – whether directly or not – you would follow through, no matter what.

And what cost was there in giving pleasure to your current… boyfriend?

It all happened so quickly. You and Heeseung delivered the presentation and it went flawlessly; the thunderous applause that filled the room was a clear answer to any lingering doubts in the air.

He did well, despite the painful erection he had been fighting with moments leading up to the presentation – thankfully, thinking of repulsive things had helped him relax and soften his shaft, otherwise, the embarrassment of standing there, hard in front of a room full of students, would’ve been irreparable.

Especially after you made sure to point out, indirectly, that you hadn’t found any spare underwear in your bag or car, suggesting, well, that Heeseung’s prize was tantalizingly close.

Every second you spent together during that presentation, Heeseung had to fight the fire of desire building low in his stomach, praying his loose pants wouldn’t betray him with the growing evidence of his arousal.

Then, you both left, your only task for the day completed, which led to Heeseung arriving at your bed much earlier than expected. The need to have you was much stronger than the plan to go out and celebrate the success of the presentation. He didn’t want to celebrate with food or drinks; he wanted to devour you.

And so, kissing you feverishly from the elevator to your room, he asked you to be his girlfriend.

“Will you be my girlfriend? Please?”

It was a rushed, spontaneous request, made amidst a kiss just as frantic and intense. It made you stop for a brief moment, shocked, your breath ragged and your eyes wide with more emotion than words could capture.

Apparently, all it took to win him over was edging him. And, well, of fucking course you said yes.

So now you had your lips wrapped around Heeseung’s dick as if they were made to be there, tailor-made to envelop him with mastery and desire, the same desire that compelled you to bob your head up and down slowly, lingering deliberately and with intent on the head.

The tip of your tongue played with its slit, the sensitivity of the area stirring a guttural moan from Heeseung who couldn’t hold longer in the silence; he barely noticed he was holding his breath so far, releasing it among a shaked trail of pleas for you not to stop.

“You feel so good,” he breathed, rolling his eyes when your throat met his tip, at the same time your nose made contact with his pelvis. He winced and stuttered a curse, hands clutching the already messy sheets beneath. “F–Fuck…”

The most thrilling part was that Heeseung had no idea that this wasn’t even the prize he had earned for his good behavior. Of course, what could possibly be a better reward for hours of unintentional edging? Well…

Hidden beneath your dedication to giving a truly memorable head was the curve of a wicked smile, one that concealed every sinful, far-from-innocent thought that had spun through your mind all day. 

If two hours of self-restraint had been torture for Heeseung, then for you, the real challenge had been thinking of anything other than the countless ways you could unravel him, the infinite methods you could use to push him past the edge of sanity. Fuck… Just the thought of it had your heart racing and your stomach twisting in excitement, not to mention the throb in your bare cunt – you got rid of both your clothes the moment you crossed the room’s door. 

In a way, you were grateful that Heeseung was struggling to keep his eyes open, avoiding your gaze altogether, because if he dared to look he would see right through you. He would catch the teasing glint in your eyes, the sheer amusement at how effortlessly you had him at your mercy and the uncountable devious ideas crossing your head. 

But then, there was a moment, a fleeting second when he was reckless enough to glance down at you. Little did he know you had been watching him the entire time, your focus never once wavering since your lips wrapped around his leaking length. You were drinking in every micro-expression, every twitch of his muscles, every tremor in his breath, the way his brows knitted together as pleasure consumed him.

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that…” He groaned, voice strained.

The position had changed a few seconds ago, now with a hand gripping tightly the base of his shaft and massaging the part your mouth couldn’t take, as you focused solely on his sensitive head. The other hand rested dangerously close to his balls.

With a wet pop, you let him slip from your mouth just long enough to speak, your fingers never pausing as they jerked him off. “Or else…?” You trailed off, the mischief in your voice unmistakable.

His eyes flickered with hesitation, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. He had no “or else” to offer. He wouldn’t do anything. He would take whatever you gave him without question, without resistance.

There were no agreed-upon punishments, no threats looming over him. But after what you had done to him in the bathroom earlier, he already knew just how far you were willing to push him, how cruelly you could toy with him if you wanted to – and, damn, he would be down to anything if it involved you.

He swallowed thickly, voice faltering as your fingers cupped around his tip, your wrist twisting in slow, deliberate circular motions.

“O–or else nothing, b–baby,” he stammered, his body trembling under your touch. His breath started to rag with a certain constancy, pitch climbing higher as his resolve shattered completely. “N–Nothing at all. I’m all yours, right? Do whatever you wan–” He had to stop himself, since you thought it would be the right time to toy with his balls. The rough moan echoed through your interior like a visceral energy straight to your pussy, stirring it to clench, your arousal growing. “Fuck!”

It was such a beautiful view; Heeseung threw his head back and clutched his eyes close, back arching involuntarily within a sudden jolt, and his legs, once softly idling on the bed, now squirmed as you didn’t stop, never once, none of your movements, silently pressing the orgasm you knew it was close. 

Your piercing gaze zeroed on his trembling form, the way his lips fell open and how his Adam’s apple bobbed with the failed attempts to gulp his saliva; you could see it trailing down from the corner of his lips, his tongue struggling to gather it back on his mouth.

“So beautiful, Hee,” you whispered loud enough to make yourself heard, basking in the sight of Heeseung slowly falling apart.

And that was the last thing you said before taking his dick in your mouth again, deepthroating instantly and provocatively making swallowing motions, which pressed the very tip and elicited another guttural-high pitched whimper, sounds you had never heard coming from him before.

Heeseung was seeing stars, for sure. His eyes could barely stay open, yet they still rolled back as everything you were doing drove him absolutely wild. It wasn't just sensitivity or neediness; you were touching him in such a specific way that left no room for anything else, no space for coherent thoughts or self-control.

He could feel his body slowly unraveling, but not in a painful way. It was strange, like all his energy was being funneled entirely into the place where your mouth was consuming him. The rhythm of your tongue around him was hypnotic, but every time he tried to focus on how incredible it felt to have you taking him in, your hand playing with his balls distracted him completely. He had no idea what to do, how to react, or what the hell was going on in his mind anymore.

Only a few seconds into it and his entire body shuddered, his warning filling the room nearly at the same time as the warm stream cascaded down your throat, “Fuck, fuck, fuck. ‘M cumming…”

You swallowed Heeseung’s release as if you were parched, drinking it down like water, which accidentally overstimulated his spent cock through his high. Not a single drop escaped your hungry lips, cleaning him almost completely before you detached your mouth from it.

Heeseung trembled beneath your touch, the aftershocks rippling through his body in such a ridiculously captivating way that you could have admired it for hours without tiring. His lightly bronzed chest was now flushed in a lovely shade of red, coated in sweat from the heat of desire that had enveloped the room. In that moment, your gaze shifted to your next... target. The owner of it being entirely unaware of the mischief brewing in your mind.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you took a moment to steady your breath before continuing with your plan. You shifted up just enough to reach Heeseung’s swollen lips, his face still contorted in a look that could only be described as pleasure, but relaxed, as if he were sinking into the sensation.

His chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, his body still quivering as your fingertips traced the outlines of his collarbones, studying him with the kind of admiration you reserved for someone who didn’t know what he had just experienced.

“Hey,” you called softly, caressing his cheek tenderly as though you wanted to make sure he was okay. 

Heeseung fluttered his eyes open, the tiredness of them exposing how affected he was. You wavered about continuing with your ideas, but with the smirk he showed you and the way his gaze flickered lazily to your lips as if asking for you to continue it was the green light you needed.

So you captured his lips with yours, starting a kiss that was both passionate and affectionate. It was, somehow, an aftercare; one you would give even not having the need to. And Heeseung was more than receptive to kiss you.

It was oddly addictive, the mingled taste of you and himself, the bittersweetness melting across his tongue, igniting each particle of his body to move along with you. One hand slid instinctively to the back of your head, his fingers carefully threading through your hair as he held you in place, gently yet firmly pulling you closer.

Heeseung quivered when your fingertips started to move innocently down, not paying enough attention to it, until they touched his, now, softening shaft. 

He tried to break the kiss to complain, to alert that he was still sensitive from the previous orgasm and you would have to wait a few more seconds, maybe minutes, so he could get hard again; he definitely wouldn’t mind another round. But you only moved further, pressing yourself into his lips, shutting any possibility of him letting you know he was slightly in pain.

“Y/N–”

“Shh,” a shush was enough to leave him speechless, especially because your hand kept its exploration, now settling into a languish pace of moving up and down along his length.

“S–Stop…” Heeseung, once again, tried to part the kiss to plead. This time, you leaned back only enough to search for his eyes. They were wide in alarm. 

“Do you want me to stop, baby?” 

Your voice had taken on a specific rasp, clearly affected by the pressure you had previously exerted on your throat. But that was worse for Heeseung’s state, because you still shaped it to sound sultry, almost seductive. It was pathetic how he responded to your every stimulus, in all its varying intensities and nuances.

“It’s burning,” he whispered softly, not wanting to disappoint you in any way. You had already tried overstimulation before, so this was a sensation and dialogue he was familiar with.

You cooed, “Yeah? Is it?” Your tone, feigned concern, was completely overshadowed by the mocking edge beneath it. It was almost comical, but Heeseung loved it.

And then, a soft moan escaped him. He was getting hard again, which only spurred your hand to move faster, causing him to hiss.

“Uhm…”

The last time you had tried this, he had done exactly what he had just done: his hand had moved to grasp your wrist, but he didn’t exert any force to pull it away. It seemed more like a desperate attempt to hold on to something, almost as if he were clinging to his sanity.

The naughty grin that curled your lips only revealed how much you were enjoying watching him like this, eyes blinking rapidly, unsure whether to stay focused on the slight sting of discomfort, or to surrender to the imminent pleasure.

“But that wasn’t my question, was it?”

“N-No,” he shook his head, his voice shaky. “It wasn’t.”

You gave him a moment to respond, almost considering asking again just for the sake of it, but it seemed much more satisfying to use his lack of a correct answer as a small “punishment”, so your lips trailed down, leaving a path of warmth and chills through your way until they encircled Heeseung’s nipple, but not giving the entire touch; it was just a test of waters, just to drag out any reaction aiming to guide your following decisions, as you peppered soft kisses near the area and read his body response.

Heeseung’s breath hitched with the proximity of your mouth to his sensitive buds, his eyes fluttering shut and a small frown pressing his forehead to contort. Yet, his silence was heavy.

You raised your gaze ever so slightly to catch a glimpse, a smile tugging at your lips as you realized he might be into it, though he seemed to be trying to hide his blatant reactions; your hand on his cock now slowing to an almost full stop.

With that, you decided to wrap your lips around his nipple again, this time shortening the distance to flicker your tongue a few times right on the hardened tip, and the answer was immediate and modestly unexpected. 

“Oh, shit!” Heeseung nearly screamed, body jolting abruptly as a sharp spasm overtook his nerves. The coil in his stomach tightened, twisting further with each passing second you continued to play with your tongue.

Now absolutely certain of the pleasure you were causing, every whimper that fell from his lips was a delicious incentive for you to keep going, alternating between wet, noisy sucks and flattening your tongue to rub it along the bruised bud, your saliva coating his chest.

“Ngh, damn, fuck–” Heeseung exhaled shakily, unable to comprehend anything other than the crescent blissful thrill in his body, the temperature rising considerably due to your effort to make him go insane.

He was sure you wanted to make him go insane.

Blindly, you went back to grab his already very hard dick to give it some attention again, and the combo of everything you were doing to his body was more than enough for him to come undone in your hands.

“Babe, oh my god– Please–” He urged. “Don’t stop…” His voice was almost a broken whisper, but the pleading tone was clear, like a fragile thread that he hoped would keep him tethered to reality.

You giggled, continuing your work on his sensitive nipples, nibbling softly and then brushing your tongue to soothe any pain. 

“Please…” Heeseung’s voice cracked slightly, the desperation seeping through within pathetic moans, as his fingers gripped your wrist tightly.

“Aw,” you cooed, lips curling into a devilish smirk. You kissed his nipple a few times before letting go of it. “You don’t want me to stop, sweetheart?”

“Please.”

The word fell from his lips again similar to a mantra, his entire body trembling under your touch, yearning for more but unsure if he could handle it. A small giggle escaped you. “Is that all you can say, my love? Please?”

You repositioned your body to sit on your knees by his side, one hand focused solely on jerking him off, while the other rested on his chest, until you decided to flicker your finger on one of his nipples. 

“Aw, so sensitive, aren’t you?” You murmured with amusement, your voice soft yet dripping with teasing.

He was already leaking heavily, and when he started to whimper, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist that had been touching his chest, pushing it further into him, as if urging you to continue, you could feel how dangerously close he was to the edge again.

“Oh my God, oh my God…” His words came out as breathy nonsense, barely coherent, his hips instinctively grinding against you, seeking more friction. He was lost in the sensation, overwhelmed by it all.

Heeseung's chest rose and fell with a desperate pace as he fought to catch his breath, each exhale shaking. His skin was flushed, a deep, beautiful shade of red coated in a thin sheen of sweat that caught the dim light of the room, making him glow with every movement.

Amidst pleas, blended with delectable whines of your name, there was a heavy desperation underlying beneath the whole surface he was showing you. 

He sounded dumb. 

He teetered the edge of madness, your touches weighting tons along his spent length; the nearly purple tip was nothing but pure perfection for your eyes, painfully hard still, because behind his despair there was the actual need to be there, to please you with by offering his own pleasure, to be your good boy.

And you wanted to make sure he understood it.

“You’re such a good boy, Hee.”

And as if your words snapped the bliss away from him, only to drift strongly back with a much intense force, the fierce orgasm built for the last minutes burst out through thick ropes upwards, landing perfectly on the very end of his tummy, on the sheets and on your hand. Thinking ahead, you used some of his release to lubricate what would soon become your seat.

Heeseung was fucking breathless, not sure if he was still alive but definitely pleasured. However, before he could regain full consciousness of his body, you were already straddling over, aligning your needy pussy, aching for some relief, already dripping in arousal, to be fulfilled by his dick, though it needed some rest before anything else. 

His eyes flew open as he held your hips in place, preventing you from sinking into the very sensitive extension of his cock. He would probably lift his torso as well, but he was too tired to even try, so his persuasion game was reduced to merely the plea in his gaze and the obvious tiredness of his breathing.  

“I already came so much,” Heeseung murmured, his bambi-eyes glistening with tears. “I don’t think I can…” His eyes darted briefly to your pussy, and the view of it painfully asking to be filled to the brim had him tweaking.

Once again: it was pathetic how devoted for you – and your body – Heeseung was. 

“Oh?” You pouted, cocking your head to the side with feigned sadness. “But I didn’t come, though?”

“Can you wait just a little?” 

You carefully observed the genuine tone laced in his voice as he made his request. There was a desire to continue behind his words, but he had asked only for a brief moment of pause. You could wait for as long as it took if it meant fulfilling his wish and not pushing further his boundaries. 

So you nodded, rising from your position to grab a water bottle from the nightstand. It was difficult to ignore just how wet the inside of your thighs had become or how the slightest friction on your clit only heightened your arousal.

“Here, baby,” you handed him the water bottle, watching the charming Adam's apple move with each swallow. It was definitely one of your favorite features of his. As you sat on the edge of the bed, you gently caressed his sweaty face, brushing away the strands of hair that clung to his forehead. “You did so well today.”

Heeseung wasn’t naive, he could sense the undertone of “farewell” in your voice, almost as if you were ready to end the moment without a second thought. Yet, for him, that would have been a huge problem.

You hadn't reached your climax.

Finishing the water, he silently thanked you, and before you could stand up he stopped you, cupping your hand on his face with his own.

“But I’m– I’m your good boy, right?” His wide, shining eyes blinked up at you, the innocence in them belying the desire to be praised, laid bare behind those expressive orbs.

His words left you momentarily disoriented. Honestly, you had been willing to take care of your own needs alone, and there would have been no issue with that. But Heeseung was clearly eager for more, and the sight of him rubbing his cheek against your warm palm was more than enough to reignite the spark in you.

“You are,” you nodded again, lowering yourself just enough to kiss his soft, flushed lips. “My good boy,” you whispered against them, your words carrying a promise – a silent vow of how grateful you were to have him with you. Then, you pulled back, returning to your previous position.

Heeseung watched you with both curious and excited eyes, watching how you climbed on top of him, reoccupying the earlier position just to sit directly on his sensitive length. His abs clenched with the immediate and unwarned touch, his back curving forward while his hands flew to grab your waist.

You smirked, though it showed more than just raw desire; it had, lying underneath, the very affection that warmed your chest by knowing Heeseung would be down to anything with you. He let out another groan when you started to move back and forth ever so slightly to coat your own arousal around his cock and lubricate once more.

Also, it helped to make him hard again, and it was obvious how easily sensitive he was once you felt the stiffness growing beneath you.

“There you go,” you murmured cheekily, adjusting your height only to align Heeseung’s dick in your pulsing hole, not waiting a second as you felt it filling you. It was your time to choke a moan.

Your body relaxed almost completely to welcome him inside, leaning slightly forward as the overwhelming sensation of finally being filled with friction surged through you. You were just as eager as he was, and soon enough, your movements started without hesitation.

His touch lingered in the exact spot he once held you, and you had positioned yourself on the right angle so you could feel your clit rubbing against his pelvis, only deepening, urging, your pleasure.

With Heeseung’s length dragging across your tight, sensitive walls, it was undeniable your growing desire to finally cum, and with that you searched for the right pace to please both of you. Your eyes were closed as you focused on moving your hips in a steady motion.

On the back of your thoughts, however, there were the beautiful whimpers Heeseung was letting out, as he felt the third orgasm of the day building up too quickly. 

And you noticed, of course; you could feel him leaking in you. And… You couldn’t hide or prevent your teasing side to show up, so you asked, your mouth whispering moans and his name, but also having a grin that made you too lustful to look at.

“Can you give me one more, sweetheart?” 

You slowed your pace deliberately, watching Heeseung’s body react. A sharp gasp left his lips, his chest heaving, but no answer followed.

“Heeseung,” you called his name again, voice soft yet commanding, hoping to anchor his mind back to you, to keep him tethered amidst the pleasure clouding his thoughts. You purposely clenched. “Can you give me one more?”

A strangled noise caught in his throat, and his hips jerked up instinctively, chasing the friction he was so desperately losing. “Nnngh, fuck!” He was a writhing mess beneath you, legs trembling, unable to stay still as he practically fucked himself into you, searching for the sensation that had him spiraling. A quiet sob echoed from his lips.

“Babe, I won’t move until you answer,” you murmured, slowing your hips until they stilled completely. “I need your words.”

“Ah–no! Please, please, don’t…” His voice broke into a whimper, his entire body shuddering with the withdrawal of pleasure.

A burning sensation coiled deep inside him, pleasure and frustration mixing into something unbearable. His hands clutched desperately at your flesh, definitely marking the extension; his lips parted as he let out a shaking breath, his body twitching for any form of relief.

“Please…” The plea left him again, raw and unfiltered, but even he wasn’t sure what exactly he was begging for. For you to move again? For you to let him fall apart? For you to ruin him?

Your gaze flickered up, catching sight of his tear-streaked cheeks. His big, round eyes fluttered between half-lidded and tightly shut, brows furrowed in pure, pathetic desperation. His lips, swollen and parted, trembled slightly, whether from the overwhelming sensation or from how hard he had been biting them, you weren’t sure.

Then, as if sensing your eyes on him, Heeseung finally looked at you. You smiled at him, something soft, something appreciative, as if silently letting him know just how much you adored seeing him like this, completely unraveling in your hands.

But you wanted something. Something simple. Something so easy. Just his words.

“Hee…” Your tone turned warning, coaxing. “Words. Need your words, yeah?”

It was like a switch flipped inside him, acknowledging you would easily stop and leave him without his release, frustrated and helpless. His breath hitched, and then his entire body jolted like a shockwave had run through him, with his eyes flying open and his back arching as a frantic urgency flooded his tone.

“Yes! Yes, fuck–yes! I can give you–” His words cut off in a choked moan as you tightened your clenching, circling your hips in slow, deliberate motion. His fingers curled into the sheets, knuckles white, thighs trembling as his brain melted into pleasure.

But then you stopped. His whine was downright pathetic.

“Another,” he rushed out, panting, the desperation laced thick in his voice. “I can. I can give you another.”

A slow smirk tugged at your lips, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as you leaned forward, already going back to roll your hips.

“Good boy, Hee.”

Due to the proximity of your mouths, you even tried to initiate a kiss, but it quickly turned messy, chaotic even, though your lips didn’t fully part. You both moaned into each other, breaths, sounds, and whispered desires blending into the creaking of the bed that shifted slightly under your relentless movements.

There was a deafening determination in the way you grinded against him, fast enough to give you pleasure and leave Heeseung completely broken.

And then, silence. At least, on his part. You tried to open your eyes to meet his, and through the blur, you caught a glimpse of his lips slightly parted, breathless, his eyes shut in the intensity of the moment.

Fully committed, you pushed yourself closer to the finish line, feeling the familiar tightness in your core signaling your impending climax. You also managed to get his dick brushing against your most sensitive spot, propelling you faster towards the edge.

Suddenly, Heeseung gasped for air and moaned loudly, filling you with his release, the pressure inside you intensifying. It was different from all the other reactions, and it would definitely stay with you. 

He was gorgeous, his neck completely exposed and glistening with sweat, his body trembling as he gasped and moaned beneath you. And, finally, with one last powerful movement, you reached your own peak, your body shaking in the aftermath, clinging to him as your world spun with the intensity of it all.

Heeseung, still a little lost in the moment, hugged you back. There were no words needed to express that this had been a significant moment for both of you, a journey through uncharted paths, where you respected each other’s desires and understood your own limits, while still daring to push beyond them a little.

It felt different and fulfilling to be with someone like that, your thoughts syncing in unspoken understanding. And that simple embrace, though messy and sweaty from your shared experience, was more than enough to mark the beginning of something new.

A new chapter.

[blubunz]

FAVORITE CHILD

— dad! leon s. kennedy x f! daughter! reader

《MINORS DNI!》

Tags: incest, reader is mentioned to have siblings, spit kink, praise, slight breeding kink, choking, breath play, semi-public sex, pet names.

A/N: freaks.

“Shh, shh, princess.” Leon coos, one hand clasps over your mouth. He watches your eyes rolling up as he continues snapping his hips into you, practically making you lose control over his thick, slimy cock. “Keep your voice down. Those things your siblings are watching won't be enough to drown your pretty noise.”

You can't help it, how the fuck can you be quiet when your dad's cock is drilling inside you? It's his fault anyways! His fault who tempted you, who praised you, who favored you above the others. You can't help it if your dad is this sexy.

A single whine escapes your lips and, Leon doesn't want to risk having the rest knowing he's fucking his daughter on the bed he used to share with his wife.

His lips crash down to yours, muffling your screams and cries, but the sound of the bed creaking is increasing, he's so scared, just as you are. The idea of having sex in a room with your family sitting right outside is enough to have your pussy squeezing his cock. You don't know, maybe you want it, to see your siblings face scrunched up in disgust. But in your mind, you already knew that they would be jealous. Jealous that Leon is fucking you, not them. Jealous at how he's calling you sweet names. A tiny part of you wants that just to inflate your ego a bit more.

Leon is fucking you dumb, you don't understand why mom left him for someone else when his dick is right here! Big, thick, so alive and he can maintain for so long. You had been drooling for a man like this, and now you have it, you just didn't expect it to be your own flesh and blood, but you can't complain, not when he has been fucking the thoughts out of that little brain that he can grab and pull back to have your back arching.

“Dad—!” You cry, hands clenching the bedsheets, the look you're giving him is something he never expected coming from his daughter, but he loves it, he loves you.

He never doubts you, you're the favorite child for a reason, even if you're now old enough not to care, he always make it like a competition between you and your siblings, and you won every time.

And every time, he rewards you with his dick.

“Shit, my princess is squeezing me tight. Hngh— Honey, are you scared? Your siblings won't know, baby.” Leon whispers, rutting up until his tip kisses your womb. “They don't get to see this, sweetie. It's just between us two, right, my special girl?”

He calls you special with a purpose, you know that. He puts you above others, pleasing your needs not only financially but sexually as well, he's better than anyone you've met when you were out there surviving all by yourself.

Now, all you need to think about is his cock, and how much you two will go tonight.

With the sounds he's letting out, you know he's going to risk your sleep just to fuck you full. You could've expected that, you've been away long enough to leave him aching and frustrated, of course he's risking it.

Like, you two are having sex with your family sitting out in the living room to watch TV right now.

“Sweet girl. My sweetest puppy, god, your pussy is made to fit me.” He praises you, never once stopping and instead keeps thrusting into you. His grip is firm and tight, you can feel him shaking from how much he's feeling. “My perfect pussy that belongs to my favorite girl.”

Leon chuckles, looking at your fucked out face. He grabs your chin, prying your tongue to stick it out with his thumb pressing down on it.

“But of course, you can't prance that title around your sibs, can you? They'll know, baby. It will ruin the surprise and our...secret time together.” He spits in your mouth, thick glob running down your throat, you can taste his uniqueness, the degrading act mixing with his praises are making your arousal doubled.

You can see his satisfaction when you drink his spit like fine wine, trailing fingers around your neck, he squeezes it just enough to have you see stars and your hole clenches.

“My perfect daughter—” He grunts. “—with the sweetest cunt, you're so perfect...” He kisses you again, restricting your airflow just a bit more. Leon can feel your breath rapidly going to try and find a way in and out, through his lips blocking yours and his large hand around your throat.

Leon's pace never falters, he only seems to go even rougher on you, it's like he's begging to be seen with how much sound you two are making because of him.

He told you to be quiet, but he's the one making the bed creak. Leon doesn't give a damn really, your tight cunt is a drug so addicting that blinds his rational thoughts. You just lay there, shivering and skin flushed, hot to his touch. You're too good, and Leon doesn't know if he should be proud, do you take after your mom? Or him with the whole being too attractive thing?

Nonetheless, he's got to have you, he can't share this lovely girl to anyone else. The thought of you even wanting to have a boyfriend would be enough tk have his dick pound into you just to remind you that daddy's the best.

“D-Daddy, I-I can't...” You trail off, words disolve into nothing when he slams into a practically good spot, tip nudging your fleshy wall. “Hngh— fuck...”

“I know, baby.” He moves to your clit, circling it with his finger to get you higher to your climax. “I know. Come on, princess. Be a good girl and—”

“CUMMI—mph!” Your scream is cut off with his palm, Leon groans, feeling your juice washing over his cock as his hips repeatedly thrust into you, his little moans slip out, high pitched with needs as he sucks in a deep sniff of your hair. His eyebrows furrow and he releases himself deep inside you womb, filling you up the way you like it.

He doesn't pull out, staying there just to feel his warmth seeping inside you. He's also afraid some would leak out, he wouldn't want that.

But, he knows he has to eventually. Slowly pulling out, the tip of his cock connects to your pussy by a thin trail of white cum, then more starts pooling out.

“Bred you good, huh, baby?” Leon huffs out a laugh, playing with the cum that's been leaking out. Meanwhile, you lay there, panting and flushed, getting yourself back together piece by piece.

You feel his lips on your sticky forehead, with a small murmur of "good girl". He stands up only to pull you along as well, pushing your panties up back to its place.

“Want to join the others downstairs?” He offers, and laughs when you gave him a deadpan look. “Alright, princess, we'll stay here just a bit longer.”

With that, he hugs you close and kisses your cheek, whispering praises to you, compliments he only gives you and no one else.

[fueledbysano]

𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓!

welcome! here at rent-a-boyfriend, we understand that everyone has unique needs and desires, which is why we signed up a roster of men to fit your preferences! whether you want to piss off your ex or need a date on that company event, our team of charming boyfriends are waiting for you!

♱ ft. chifuyu, baji, ran, rindou, hanma, shinichiro, wakasa

♱ content: fake dating, fluff, humor, romance. [ wakasa's: suggestive ].

♱ a/n: a lil warmup for everyone whom I wish I've written more of! a little idea I got while working on commissions so I'm indulging in it.

𓆩♡𓆪 our taglist of loyal customers: @iluvizana @livefromnc @scoobydoofruitsbacks @moon-byeol2001 @vivid-orchids @slqttttt @awkwardaardvarkforever @cawwn @silphyl @chunkygirl07 @keenkittenstrawberry @m4nj1ro1 @reiners-milkbiddies @mysouleaten @souyaddiction @saenora @smutbae @fuyuswifey

☥ @enchantedforest-network

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤloading...

Chifuyu Matsuno | 26 | PET SHOP OWNER | 5’6 | LOYAL

Jokingly entering a lottery for a luxury couple’s cruise, you were surprised to receive a notification saying that you were the lucky winner! You now have to find a “spouse” for the trip. You’ve considered your friends, but all of them probably have commitments already. And then on the day of the cruise, Chifuyu greets you with flowers. He was so much cuter and in front of you. You settled into your luxurious cabin and began the journey.

On your first night, you tried the fancy dinner aboard the ship, shared your favorite dishes and chatted about your childhood memories associated with food. It struck you when he mentioned he was formerly a gang member, as he certainly did not look like one. you also bonded over your shared love of animals and memories of having owned pets as children, while Chifuyu told you all about the interesting things about these pets.

You also enjoyed a masquerade ball; Chifuyu was not the best dancer but he was so gentle with his movements. He was nervous at first, unsure how to navigate the party, but with your guidance and reassuring touch, he gradually relaxed and even started to enjoy the activity. You took the lead, taking him to the rhythm. With your hands on his shoulders and movements in synchrony with his, you glided across the dance floor, lost in the music and in each other's company just like dinner. Chifuyu was impressed by your confidence and grace on the dance floor. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for that.

After a long day of exploring the ports and enjoying the activities on the cruise, you decided to unwind at the couple's spa. On the way there, the two of you even came up with a fake love story in case the masseuse asks— you were high school sweethearts. Inside the spa, you settled into adjacent massage tables, holding hands and enjoying the deep tissue massages that the spa offered. The oil worked its magic onto your bodies, and you turned to Chifuyu, who seemed to be holding his laughter from being ticklish. You smiled at him and chuckled as you made eye contact, letting him know that you didn’t mind. You couldn't help but notice Chifuyu's toned body. His toned back and arms were on full display, you felt yourself being attracted to him in a way you hadn't been before.

As the week went on, you and Chifuyu continued to learn more about each other while also participating in the cruise activities, all while pretending to be a couple. By the end of the cruise, Chifuyu couldn't deny the connection he felt with you, and he was surprised by the depth of his feelings for someone he had only just met. It was then that he realized that despite being the one who was rented for the vacation, it was he who truly rented your heart. So when you visited his pet shop, he couldn't deny the connection you had and was happy to see you again. It’s against the rules of the rent-a-boyfriend services, but he does not need that anymore and so do you.

Baji Keisuke | 26 | VET | 5’9 | TSUN-TSUN

As you prepared for your family's Christmas trip, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. Your relatives were constantly badgering you about finding a partner, and the pressure to conform to their expectations was starting to wear you down. That's why when you heard about a service that could provide you with a pretend boyfriend, you saw it as the perfect opportunity to get your family off your back and enjoy the trip without the constant constant nagging.

When you met Baji, you were surprised at how charming and easygoing he actually was. He was exactly the kind of guy your family would approve of, and he was happy to play the role of your boyfriend. Both you and your family were struck by how handsome and charming he was. His tall, lean figure and stunning eyes made him look like a model, but his warm smile and how gentle he was with your family made him seem accessible and likable.

You found yourself growing nervous as the time went on, but Baji was quick to pick up on your discomfort and put you at ease. He asked questions about your family and interests, and he made you a drink before settling into your room for the night. Baji then joked and laughed about things your parents have told earlier, making sure to give you a sense of ease and comfort with him. After all, you will be going on a trip together. You knew that you were both putting on an act, but you couldn't deny his potential of being an actual partner.

So the trip began, Baji proved to be a great choice. He was friendly and outgoing, easily striking up conversations with your relatives. He quickly became a favorite especially to the children in your family, who were drawn to his playful nature and witty banter. He spent time playing with them, telling jokes and stories, and generally being a fun and engaging presence. He was so good at interacting with the children that they started calling him "big bro Baji". He simply made a positive impression on everyone. He even went out of his way to compliment the cooking and offer to help with luggages, and making sure that everyone was taken care of, especially you, even if it meant putting himself in second place.

On the last day of the trip, you find yourself wondering how he was so good at handling family members, and he was more than happy to explain that he had a close relationship with his own mother growing up. He also said that in his career, he had come to see his animal patients as members of his own family. He described how he would take the time to get to know each animal individually, talking to them in the veterinary clinic and taking them out to play and explore. He told you that he believed that the key to understanding and connecting with other beings was to see them as unique individuals, just like people.

You did miss Baji after the trip. He had made such an impact on your family members, especially the children, that he was brought up in conversations even after he was gone. Your parents asked about him, and his absence was noted by the young ones who had grown so fond of him. You found yourself thinking about him often and wondering what he was up to. The trip had been such a special experience for you, and you felt grateful for the time you had shared together. Even though your relationship had been temporary and arranged, you found yourself wishing that you could see him again and continue your connection. So when you called him up for a “rental” again, it was to your surprise when Baji answered with “Don’t worry, this one’s on me.”

Hanma Shuji | 28 | PHOTOGRAPHER | 6'4 | DAREDEVIL

You have been struggling to keep your ex-boyfriend at bay. Despite repeatedly asking him to leave you alone, he would still find a way to contact you, whether through social media or by showing up at your workplace or at your apartment. You were worried about the situation and wanted it to stop, so you decided to hire a pretend boyfriend to make your ex-boyfriend back off. You chose Shuji Hanma, a 28-year-old photographer with a charismatic and handsome look. He also had a rebellious streak that made him perfect to play the role.

Hanma's stylish motorcycle added to the spectacle of his arrival at your apartment. As you rode away, you noticed that your neighbors were staring, probably wondering who the mysterious man on the motorcycle was. It was the same case when you arrived at your workplace, your colleagues were equally curious about the identity of the mystery man who waited for you at the lobby.

Hanma was engrossed in his work in the lobby, concentrating on editing his photos on the computer screen. He noticed the faint sound of footsteps approaching. The sound grew closer, and Hanma looked up to see your ex-boyfriend walking towards the seats. Hanma was not impressed, and he almost immediately approached him. “Hello, I'm Shuji Hanma. You are…?”

“Uhm, Touri—desu.” He was confused, but shook Hanma’s hand anyway, which he regretted… Hanma’s grip was undeniably strong, which turned his skin to crimson. “You new here, huh?” Hanma tried to remain cool. “Eh, not exactly.” The guy shrugged, and Hanma scoffed and took his belongings. “Well, I'll be on my way.” He headed to the receptionist and spoke loud enough, “Good afternoon, can you please deliver a message to my girlfriend, Miss [ L / N ]? I have our lunch~” This was enough to grab your ex’s attention, and he was visibly confused and angered.

Hanma immediately escorted you off the elevator when you arrived, letting you know of your ex’s presence as he protectively put an arm around you. Which seemed to work, because he was only angrily standing there with a piercing glare. Hanma was inarguably intimidating with his fierce eyes and tall height. As you sat together for lunch, you couldn't help but smile to yourself. You knew that your ex-boyfriend was watching from a distance, witnessing you having a wonderful time with another man. Hanma also appeared to be enjoying the situation, and he kept up his loving and affectionate demeanor throughout the meal, like Hanma taking your hand and kissing it, feeding you, and simply looking like a real couple. When in reality, you were also talking about your day so far and telling each other about the usual get-to-know topics.

After you walked out the restaurant together, your ex stepped forward and started yelling about how you could move on and replace him. “And with this twig?! Come on [ Y / N ], is this the best you got?” He chuckled and attempted to reach your arm. As he continued his tirade, Hanma lost his patience and punched him in the face. You were shocked at your pretend-boyfriend's sudden burst of violence, but you had to admit that it was somewhat satisfying to see your ex take a hit. Hanma quickly pulled you away from the scene and kicked your ex’s stomach. “Who’s the twig now? If I see your face again, I'm going to break every bone in your body.” He spat and then led you back to your apartment.

Once you were inside, Hanma apologized for his behavior and assured you that he only wanted to protect you. Still a bit shaken, you knew that Hanma had been there for you, and he did his role perfectly. You forgave him for resorting to violence and appreciated how devoted he had been to you with a generous tip, to which he answered, “I’m not leaving without making sure that guy never comes back.” You were taken aback when he took a seat on the couch by your front door. “And don't worry about the rent thing ♡” He winked. You were pretty sure he just enjoyed beating your ex, but you got yourself a pretty damn good fake boyfriend/guard dog.

Rindou Haitani | 30 | CLUB OWNER | 5’8 | GENTLEMAN, BUT A LITTLE NAUGHTY

You were feeling a bit down about attending the wedding of a college friend without a plus one. Your friends were all in loving relationships, and you were tired of being the odd one out. Rindou was intrigued by the request and quickly agreed. He looked forward to the opportunity to spend the evening with you and to help you feel less awkward.

Rindou was a stickler for presentation, so he took it upon himself to choose an outfit that would make you feel confident and comfortable. He asked you about the theme of the event, the colors of the invitations, and any personal style preferences you had. Using this information, he was able to find a perfect ensemble for the evening.

When you arrived at the venue, you felt a new sense of confidence. The dress that Rindou got tailored was a perfect fit, and the shoes made you feel taller and more sophisticated. You knew that you looked good, and that made you feel even more comfortable mingling with the other guests. Rindou had been right, the outfit had boosted your confidence, and it showed while he was happily your arm candy. As you continued to make your way toward the main event, Rindou couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity with the place. He quickly realized that he was one of the co-owners of the venue, and had completely forgotten to mention it to you. He felt a bit sheepish about the oversight and did not make a big deal out of it.

However, it did come back to bite him in the ass later on. “Mr. Haitani?” The groom took notice of his presence when the couple visited your table. “Pleasure to meet you, I did not see you on the guest list. What a surprise!” They shook hands. “My girlfriend is here with me.” He smiled and held you closely. “You didn’t tell us that your boyfriend owned the venue, [ Y / N ]-chan!” WHen the bride said that, it seemed that the other guests on the table now seemed more interested in you. “How did you meet?” “Is there a ring yet?” It was a bit of a shockwave to you and your friends. Suddenly it seemed as though they were all more interested in you than they were before, and you felt a tinge of discomfort, which Rindou easily picked up on.

“Oh, shut up…you won’t even talk to her two minutes ago…” Rindou scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Wanna ditch?” You were touched by his offer, and gladly accepted. You needed a break from the endless talk about your friends' relationships, and it was nice to have a place to escape to for a little while. Rindou took you to the bar of his brother’s hotel nearby, where you were able to enjoy your own night just by yourselves without having to impress people who you barely know anymore. “Sorry for not telling you sooner, it was exactly what I was trying to avoid…” Rindou knew his way around a bar, and you found yourself in the perfect spot with him at your side. He explained the menu items and suggested a few different drinks that he thought you might enjoy, making sure to cater to your tastes. You felt grateful for his attention, and you appreciated how much effort he was putting into the conversation.

As you sat at the bar, you found yourself opening up more than you ever thought you would. You talked about your job,hobbies, and even a little bit about your past relationships. Rindou was a great listener, and he made you feel comfortable enough to share details that you had never told anyone before. You loved the fact that even though he was a complete stranger, he was genuinely interested in your life and experiences. While he also had a fair share of stories, especially the reason behind joining the rental services despite being a wealthy businessman… Rich people get bored sometimes too, you know…

You felt like you had known Rindou for much longer than just one evening. You couldn't believe how quickly the time had passed, and you found herself wishing that the night could go on forever. As they closed down the bar and left the reception, Rindou walked you to the suite he offered, and you found yourself wishing that you had the courage to ask him if he would like to see eachother again…

Ran Haitani | 31 | CLUB OWNER | 6'0 | BOLD

You have been using your “fiance” as an excuse to get out of uncomfortable situations or company gatherings, but now you are facing a dilemma. Your boss was hosting a company outing, and you knew that you couldn't use the same excuse again because he personally invited “your fiance”.

Thinking quickly, you reached out to Ran and asked him to play the part of your fiance for the whole trip. You were relieved when he agreed, knowing that he was the perfect person to accompany you to the event. Ran was charming, charismatic and extremely meticulous so you knew he would be able to sell the "fiance" ruse perfectly.

Ran likes to live life to the fullest, and he's not afraid to splash out on extravagant things. He's handsome, wealthy, and he has a way with the ladies. “You wanna make this more believable? I’ll take you on a date before our flight ♡” He took you to the finest restaurants and their club, and he insisted on paying for everything. He bought you clothes to bring to the trip, and you took a lot of photos together to show around. And he of course did not forget the fiance scheme and took you to Cartier for ring shopping. You were surprised by Ran's opulent lifestyle, but you were also drawn to his confidence and charm. He's not afraid to take risks or to try new things, and you feel like you can learn a lot from him.

On the day of the flight, you pulled up at the airport in his luxury sedan, dressed to the nines that truly made you look like the real deal. Ran was a smooth talker and a natural flirt, and he made you feel like the most important person in the world. And being the actor that he is, Ran smoothly introduced himself to your boss and colleagues. But you only gave them a glimpse of your ruse, because Ran had bumped your seats to first class where you praised each other for your acting.

During the trip, you were treated like a queen by Ran. He was always making sure your needs were met and that you were comfortable. He would hold your hand in public, carry your things, and go out of his way to make sure you were comfortable and well-cared for. You liked the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, and the way he looked at you with a sparkle in his eye. You were constantly getting compliments on your clothing, accessories, and your perfect “fiance.” You knew it was all just an act, but you couldn't help but enjoy every minute of it. Ran was way too good.

One night, you and Ran spent the evening soaking in the bathtub on your hotel balcony, surrounded by the sounds of the sea and the stars sparkling above you. He uncorked a bottle of the finest champagne, enjoying the bubbly beverage as you talked about your actual lives. You took the opportunity to let loose and talk trash about your co-workers. Ran laughed and poked fun at their annoying habits and quirks as well, bonding over your shared experiences. Ran was a natural storyteller, sharing stories from his past and his dreams for the future.; while You were fascinated by his adventures and insights. In turn, you talked about your own hopes and dreams. Ran listened intently, offering advice and support where needed. The conversation flowed effortlessly, with no awkward silences or forced conversation.

Ran was a true professional, and he played his role as your fiance flawlessly throughout the trip. He remained attentive and gave you affection in front of everyone. You were impressed by his commitment to the bit and his ability to seamlessly slip into character and couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for him. He made you feel like you were the most important person in the world, and you were touched by his thoughtfulness and attention to detail.

You were seriously moved by Ran's dedication to the role, even as you said goodbye. He had played the part with such natural grace and ease that she had almost forgotten that it was all an act. You were grateful for his commitment to the bit and his attention to detail, and you enjoyed the fact that you had someone during the trip. “Come on, I can’t keep these.” With his gifts in your hands, you insisted. Of course, you could… But you thought it was polite to offer. Ran’s answer intrigued you, though… “Of course you can…” He chuckled and opened the door of your home. “We still have that wedding, right?” He winked and kissed your forehead before seeing his way out.

Shinichiro Sano | 36 | BIKE SHOP OWNER | 6'0 | CHIVALROUS

You had grown tired of your friends' incessant efforts to set you up on blind dates, with stupid college boys to make matters worse. You appreciated their well-meaning efforts, but you simply weren't interested in pursuing romantic relationships. And so you decided to seek the assistance of Shinichiro, hoping that his chivalrous disposition would be enough to convince your friends to lay off.

You decided that for the cover to be believable, you would need to go on a date with Shinichiro before hard-launching him to your friends. You also made sure that he was comfortable with playing the role and that you had a good rapport, but you had no idea what to do for your very real fake date. However, Shinichiro took the matter in his own hands and insisted you did not have to move a single joint.

You and Shinichiro arrived at the cafe of the main deck in Tokyo Tower, which offered breathtaking views of the city's skyline. You were seated at a corner table, giving a clear view of the vast expanse of lights and skyscrapers. It was a dreamy and romantic setting, enhanced by delicate table settings and soft music playing in the background.

Shinichiro treated you to a multi-course meal, where you savored a selection of traditional Japanese food. They were exquisite and perfectly prepared, and you couldn't help but be impressed by Shinichiro's good taste. You talked about everything and anything, from your childhood memories to your ongoing endeavors. Shinichiro was a good listener and made sure to ask thoughtful questions, ensuring that the conversation flowed smoothly. You were honestly impressed by his openness and genuine interest in you, and you found yourself sharing things that she had never shared with anyone else before. The conversation was so engrossing that you lost track of time, and it felt as though you had been talking for hours.

However, the motorcycle race of his little brother's team, "Top of Manji," was an exhilarating experience. You marveled at the skill and precision of the racers as they raced around the track at high speeds. Shinichiro's passion for mechanics was palpable, and he explained the intricacies of the race in detail. You were moved by his enthusiasm and felt grateful to have had the opportunity to share in such a unique experience, and it was genuinely warm to listen to Shinichiro talk about something he really loved.

And so the day arrived and you invited your friends for dinner at a restaurant you and Shinichiro had found, a Japanese izakaya that you thought they would enjoy. You had made a reservation for a medium table in the middle of the restaurant, where you would be surrounded by the lively atmosphere. After greetings and pleasantries, you finally introduced your friends to Shinichiro, revealing that he was your new boyfriend. They were all visibly surprised by the revelation, but Shinichiro turned on his charm, making small talk and engaging in witty banter with your friends. He was so natural at it, making everyone feel comfortable and included. You couldn't help but smile, feeling grateful for his presence and for the support he had shown you thus far.

Shinichiro was very affectionate towards you, making sure to pay attention to your needs and feelings. He cut your food, poured your drinks, and wiped the side of your lips. And as the evening wore on and the temperature dropped, he took off his jacket and casually offered it to you. It was relieving to see that your friends were starting to warm up to Shinichiro. They were impressed by his chivalry, intelligence, and sense of humor.

As the evening went on, she and Shinichiro grew more comfortable with each other, exchanging smiles and sharing inside jokes. Although your friends were initially skeptical about Shinichiro at first, however, as they spent more time with him, they began to see what she saw in him. They noticed his chivalrous nature and how he treated you with “love and respect”. They were impressed by his ability to hold a conversation and how engaging he was. They praised you for finding a good boyfriend and expressed their support for your relationship. This made you feel touched and felt grateful for their encouragement.

Shinchiro was an older man, but he carried himself with a youthful energy that was contagious. He had a kind heart and a charismatic smile, making it easy for you to feel at ease with him. He was a gentleman, always using polite language and good manners, but he also had a bit of mischief in him. He loved to make jokes and banter with you, and he always had a twinkle in his eye that made you smile. The dinner was a hit, and you were thrilled to see your friends enjoying themselves so much.

Maybe it was the fact that Shinichiro was older than the guys you previously dated and even older than yourself, but you actually enjoyed the extra attention and care that Shinichiro gave, as compared to your previous dates. You found yourself beginning to fantasize about having a real boyfriend like him, who would pamper and take care of you in the same way. It was a nice feeling to have someone who seemed to genuinely care about you, and you were grateful for the experience of dating him, even if it was just a temporary arrangement. Or will he allow it to remain that way?

Wakasa Imaushi | 36 | GYM OWNER | 5'3 | NONCHALANT

Wakasa Imaushi was the perfect person for your plan to win back your ex. He was charming, confident, and seemed to know how to treat a woman. Your plan was to make your ex jealous by spending time with Wakasa and having you paint a picture of a perfect couple.

He was impressed with your predictions on the whereabouts of your exes, and he was always ready to hop on your antics. Wakasa was a natural at billiards, while you considered yourself to be a bit of a novice. Despite this, he was patient with you and taught you the basics, guiding you through each shot. As you played, you stood closely together, with his hand on your back as he showed you how to grip the cue. As you finished up your game, you noticed your ex watching you from across the room, clearly jealous of the attention Wakasa was giving you. This only seemed to fuel Wakasa's desire to treat you like a princess, and up his game for your next “dates”.

As you waited outside your office building, you spotted Wakasa pulling up on a sports bike. It was obviously a labor of love for him, and it was clearly a statement piece— beautiful paint job, modifications, and powerful engines. He even got you your own helmet, and as you took a seat on the back of the bike, Wakasa revved the engine and took off down the road. You couldn't help but notice the looks of envy and jealousy from your ex-partner. You had always admired his bike, which was pretty decent, but Wakasa's was on another level. It was entirely his idea, knowing that it would take a hit on your ex’s ego. Which was right— he couldn't help but feel jealous of Wakasa and his newfound ability to make you happy and sent you a pretty petty text later on that day.

You eagerly showed Wakasa the text from your ex, and his reaction was everything you had hoped for. His expression turned into a proud smirk, and he leaned in closer to you as he read the text. You felt a sense of joy knowing that she had the upper hand in the situation and that your ex was feeling a sense of jealousy. No one could even see the two of you right now, but you were hanging out together in his gym, seemingly having a blast together. As part of your workout routine, Wakasa finds himself beginning to focus on helping you train, providing guidance and assistance as you lift weights. He was attentive and supportive, helping you with your form and demonstrating proper technique. Wakasa found himself enjoying the process and the feeling of coaching someone. You appreciated his guidance and support, and she felt a sense of satisfaction as you lifted heavier weights than you've ever had before…

“Don't fall in love with me, [ Y / N ]...” He made eye contact with you through the mirror as he held your waist. “Shut up.”

One particular day when you got off early at work, you and Wakasa found yourselves on a night out at his favorite drinking place, sipping drinks and enjoying each other's company. As they sat in the dimly lit bar, their conversation grew more intimate, personal, and playful, laughing and teasing each other. With the alcohol flowing, your inhibitions began to slip away, and before you knew it, you were locked in a deep, passionate kiss while you sat on his lap.

You were both surprised by the spontaneous kiss and felt your heart racing as you and Wakasa shared an intimate moment. “You’re making a mistake.” “Probably.” “Definitely…” You remained close together, not wanting to break apart just yet. The kiss was long and passionate, and it seemed to last forever. As you finally pulled away from each other, you both felt a sense of emptiness, wanting more of each other but unsure of what to do next.

As you woke up in Wakasa's place the next day, the reality of the previous night's events started to sink in. You realized that you had made a mistake in giving in to your urges, but at the same time, you couldn't help but want to continue doing it. You were hesitant at first, unsure of how to approach Wakasa about what happened, but you found herself drawn to him anyway. You knew that your relationship was still temporary and that you couldn't let your feelings get in the way of your agreement. Despite this, you found yourselves wanting to spend more time with him, both in your ruse and outside of it, all while pretending to Wakasa’s face that this still meant nothing.

It is certainly not common for a boyfriend-for-rent to give you a monthsary gift. Such gifts are typically given by a long-term romantic partner, or someone who is seeking a long-term relationship. Since the arrangement with Wakasa is meant to be temporary and was not originally intended to last longer than a few weeks or a months, it would not be expected for him to give you such a present. So you were surprised when Wakasa presented you with a small gift for your one-month anniversary. You were touched by the gesture, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt knowing that you shouldn't be developing feelings for him…

ㅤㅤthank you for renting our boyfriends! did you catch feelings? we don't care! as long as you come back to see them again ;)

[pomegranatelifethis]

Batfam with reader who is obsessed with birds and works at an aviary? Not necessarily yandere or neglected reader but they just never knew and now they’re all questioning if they got into birds because their family is nicknamed bats and birds.

Reader admits not necessarily, they just had too much free time because they aren’t a vigilante and started looking into actual Robins and other birds. Now the whole family is visiting the aviary and donating whenever because they see how much reader loves the place. Cuz let’s be honest—an aviary in Gotham would probably be kind of sad or used for birds who can’t go back to the wild or need the high tech vet equipment.

In the sky

The fact that there was an aviary in Gotham was strange enough, but this place was especially unique. It was a sanctuary for birds that couldn’t return to the wild or needed special care. In the midst of the city's chaos, it was a quiet place, filled with the sound of fluttering wings and soft chirps.

And this was where [Name] found themselves coming every day—eventually even volunteering.

The rest of the Batfamily had no idea. At least, not for a while. They assumed [Name] was just as busy as they were, running through the shadows, fighting crime. But the truth was, [Name] spent their free time with birds.

How did they find out?

By accident.

One day, Dick had been looking for fun anecdotes about the name "Robin" when he stumbled upon [Name]’s search history. Gotham’s bird species, interesting facts about old Robins, hunting techniques of raptors—the list went on. Then, one day, Tim spotted [Name] entering the aviary. Curious, he followed.

And he couldn’t believe what he saw.

[Name] was holding an injured hawk, their eyes shining with affection.

That day, everything changed.

First, Tim came by to check it out. Then Dick. Then Jason, just to see what all the fuss was about. Damian, already an animal lover, didn’t take long to join. Eventually, even Bruce found himself there.

And so, Gotham’s most dangerous family started making regular donations to an aviary.

Of course, [Name] understood that they probably felt some kind of connection because of their bird-themed codenames. But the truth was much simpler: [Name] just loved birds. It was an escape from Gotham’s noise, from the chaos, from the life of masks and fights.

Still, after seeing how much it meant to [Name], their family kept donating more and more.

Bruce framed it as a strategic investment. (“It’s important for Gotham’s ecosystem.”)

Jason just shrugged. “At least these winged creatures don’t scream at me.”

Dick declared, “This place is amazing!” and immediately started suggesting names for the birds.

Damian asked, “Can I bring Titus?”

And Tim? Tim was still suspicious about [Name]’s deep dive into bird research.

“Are you trying to tell us something?” he asked one day.

[Name] rolled their eyes while petting an owl. “I just have too much free time.”

But their family? Whether they meant to or not, they had become a part of [Name]’s world.

The family's visits to the aviary had become a tradition. At first, they were just curious—why was [Name] so attached to this place? But over time, each of them admitted that, in a strange way, it was soothing.

Of course, they experienced it in their own chaotic ways.

Dick always tried to talk to a parrot or a crow whenever he visited. One day, he winked at an injured sparrow and said, “Look, another orphan.” Jason muttered, “If I ever need to send a message to someone I want dead, I’ll do it with a raven.” Damian, while feeding a crippled hawk, had decided to name it “Death Talon.”

Bruce? He mostly stood in the background, made donations, and ensured everyone was happy.

But Tim… Tim was still suspicious.

“Okay,” he said one day, crossing his arms as he looked at [Name]. “Tell me the truth. Did you… get inspired by us?”

[Name] furrowed their brows while holding a pigeon. “Why would I do that?”

“Because!” Tim gestured broadly at the entire aviary. “Your whole life is about birds! Out of everything in Gotham, isn’t it weird that you ended up working in an aviary?”

[Name] thought for a moment.

Yes, maybe it was weird. But when they first visited, they had found solace in escaping Gotham’s cold and chaotic atmosphere. Here, in this warm space filled with the sound of fluttering wings, there was no crime. No gunfire. Just wounded creatures trying to heal.

Then, they smiled softly.

“Maybe I just haven’t gotten used to having free time without being an outlaw.”

Tim stared at them for a long moment. Then he sighed. “Alright. But I’m still suspicious.”

And so, the Bat Family remained Gotham’s most unusual benefactors. At some point, Bruce’s foundation even became an official sponsor of the aviary.

And in that way, [Name]’s world and their family—under wings—became a little more connected.

---

You knew this was a bad idea within the first five minutes.

But what could you do? Dick had insisted, "We can all help in some way!" Tim had said, "With our organizational skills, we can make this place more efficient." Jason had just shrugged and said, "Count me in, might be fun." And when Bruce said, "Contributing to the community is a good thing," you knew there was no escape.

And now, here you were. Having made the biggest mistake of your life.

---

Dick – Pigeon Chaos

You told Dick to just feed the pigeons. Simple task. But this was Dick. And nothing ever stayed simple with him.

"Alright, everyone, form a line!" he called out, throwing the feed into the air.

Wrong move.

Because within a minute, dozens of pigeons swarmed.

At first, Dick was amused. Then, he realized they were flying straight at him.

"AH! OKAY! TOO MANY! TOO MANY!" he shouted, stumbling back. But it was too late. The pigeons had already landed on his shoulders, arms, and head.

Jason collapsed onto the ground, laughing. "We could leave you here as Alfred's new garden decoration."

Dick, panic all over his face, narrowed his eyes. "If you don’t help me, I’m dragging you into this."

Jason took a step back. "Fine, fine, enjoy yourself."

Meanwhile, one of the pigeons started pecking at Dick’s hair.

---

Jason – A Predator Problem

Jason had made a grave mistake by saying, "I can handle the birds of prey."

And now, a very intense-looking owl was challenging him.

"Look, buddy," Jason said, staring at the owl perched in front of him. "I’m just trying to feed you. Stop giving me that look."

The owl glared harder.

Jason narrowed his eyes.

The owl narrowed its eyes.

Neither moved.

You took a deep breath. "Jason, please stop trying to establish dominance over an owl."

Jason sighed, realizing the owl was still glaring at him. "Forget this."

Just as he turned away, the owl spread its wings and launched itself directly at him.

And in that moment, Gotham’s deadliest assassin started running around, yelling, "AH! AH! GET OFF ME!"

Tim pulled out his phone. "This is definitely getting recorded."

With the owl now proudly perched on his head, Jason admitted defeat.

---

Tim – Smart Guy, Dumb Mistake

Tim’s job was simple: prepare the birds' medicine.

And Tim, naturally, turned it into a science experiment.

"If I optimize the dosage system, we can save time," he muttered, mixing a small batch into a bottle.

The result?

The bottle exploded.

Medicine splattered everywhere.

And Tim, now covered in a greenish-blue liquid, slowly blinked.

Jason fell to the ground, laughing again. "And thus, Dr. Frankenstein continues to terrorize the aviary."

Tim opened his mouth, then closed it. Then, he lowered his head. "Maybe... I didn’t need to make everything more efficient."

You sighed. "YES, TIM. MAYBE YOU DIDN’T."

Damian – The Overly Serious Falcon Trainer

Damian took on the task of handling the falcons. This should have been the least chaotic.

Except he was staring at the birds way too seriously, silently trying to train them.

"We will work together," he declared, locking eyes with a small falcon. "You and I will be Gotham’s greatest duo."

Tim snorted. "Damian, that bird probably just wants food."

Damian lifted his chin proudly. "He has great potential."

Jason rolled his eyes. "I know a bird with great potential. Its name is KFC."

Damian shot him a death glare.

Jason shrugged. "What? Just a joke."

At that moment, the small falcon grabbed onto Damian’s cape with its beak.

And Damian lost his balance and fell.

Everyone went silent.

Then Jason collapsed in laughter again.

Bruce – The Dark Knight vs. A Tiny Sparrow

And then, it was Bruce’s turn.

All he had to do was return a tiny, harmless sparrow to its cage.

Simple, right?

Wrong.

Because the sparrow escaped.

And flew straight into Bruce’s collar.

And that’s how Gotham’s most terrifying man ended up wrestling with a tiny bird trying to get into his shirt.

"...This was not part of the plan," he said, stone-faced.

Jason wheezed. "BATMAN LOST TO A SPARROW!"

Tim was in tears. Dick was on the floor. Damian had buried his face in his hands, mortified.

You buried your head in your hands.

"...We are never doing this again."

But deep down, you had to admit—you kind of enjoyed the chaos.

@itsberrydreemurstuff @welpthisisboring @lilyalone @maria-trisha

[carbt1]

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His

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: You used to be a Lady, a daughter of a Great House until Feyd took you. Since then, your sole purpose has been to warm his bed, but when Rabban asks about having you for himself, Feyd makes a choice that changes your future.

Words: 2600

Notes: Possessiveness. Grumpy Feyd. I know it's similar to another one of my fics, but I realized that after the fact, so...

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

You didn’t sleep. Not a wink. You laid in his bed all night, waiting for the man who never came, and your heart didn’t cease its ferocious beats for a second. Where is he? Why isn’t he here? Is he ok? What happened? The sun rises without answers to those questions. 

You shoot up in bed when the door eases open. Expecting to find him, you’re disappointed to see instead his harpies enter one after the other. They don’t look at you. One goes about riffling through your dresses in the closet, one heads into the bathroom and you suddenly hear a rush of water filling the tub, and the last of them goes to the vanity Feyd brought in for you, lining up makeup and hair pins that she intends to use on you. 

The air about them is poised—an echo of who they used to be before they were turned into pets—as, for the moment, their vile, more carnivorous side lies dormant. 

Feyd only allows them to near you a couple hours after they’ve been fed; the peak time between their hunger sated and their bellies rumbling. At any other time, your uniquely foreign scent wafts to their nostrils and they are incapable of holding themselves back. More than a handful of instances—when they’ve managed to manipulate the guards to open their cages with their seductive smiles—they’ve gone on the hunt for you; one time in particular, sneaking into the bedroom in the middle of the night and yanking you from Feyd’s arms with the intention of sinking their teeth into your flesh. Feyd had been so furious he’d cut a finger from each of their hands. 

Still, they don’t scare you. You see in them women not entirely unlike yourself: owned, and therefore, changed. Soft are the women who have had the luxury of marriage and child-rearing in the comforts of wealth and beautiful homes—and good for them; how lovely to be soft—but it is the women who have not a choice in their existence that develop a steel shell. And you and the harpies have steel shells. In that way, they are your kin, and you try to subtly express that when you can, even though their allegiance to Feyd can make that quite difficult.

“Where is he?” you ask. 

They ignore you, continuing with their tasks, and you huff. Yes, sometimes they refuse to speak with you, and always it seems when you need their words most. In the past, you’ve been tempted to dangle your arm in front of their sharpened fangs in the hope that the offering will encourage their cooperation, but you’ve yet to find the bravery for that. Plus, Feyd would lose his mind. Well, he would lose the rest of it. 

“You’ve spoken to me before,” you continue. “Why not now?”

One of them stops and faces you. She glances at her sister who shakes her head. 

“Tell me,” you plead. 

“We are not permitted to speak with you on the matter,” the other says to your frustration. That is not good enough. Regardless of how he sees you and how you feel, he is the one thing keeping you alive on this lifeless planet and you refuse to go about your days worrying over his safety and what his disappearance means for your fate.

You throw the sheets off your legs and stand. 

“I don’t care,” you spit as your silky nightgown falls at your ankles, but then you reconsider your tone. The harpies do not do well with aggression. Being so animalistic, their instincts are easily drawn out, and they tend to attack when attacked, which is not a fight you would win. 

You take a calming breath, placing a hand over your heart. “We are the same. He owns us, he clothes us, he feeds us,” you remind them. “On this planet, I am as much your sister as you are each other’s. We all care about him in a way and if I knew what happened to him, I would have the decency to tell you.”

The harpy who drew your bath returns to the bedroom. Having overheard your words, she crosses her arms and says, “With respect, my Lady, we are not your sisters,” she says. “We have never had him the way you have, and he does not feel for us the way he does you.” 

Your clenched jaw loosens, lips parting. If you had assumed anything about the relationship between Feyd-Rautha and his harpies, it was that they had once been where you are; that when you came along, they lost their rank and became something alike the handmaids from your home world. You’d assumed that when they warmed his bed, their handmaids were the women who entertained him before them, and so on like a disgusting, perverted pattern. But if that is not the case, then your sense of identity is even more confused. Not to mention, nary a soul has referred to you as ‘Lady’ since you were taken from your family. So why show that respect now when Feyd practically stripped you of the title months ago? 

You look to the only one of the three who seems unsure of the situation. She’s biting her lip, worrying the fabric of your unworn gown between her fingers. 

“What about you?” you ask her and her head lifts to meet your eyes. She’s the smallest of them—pixie-esque, like you read in fairytale stories as a child—and despite the core of their primal nature, the gentlest. “You want to tell me.”

The harpy by your vanity hisses, but the gentle one does not shy away at the warning. “She has been kind to us,” she tells her sister in the most self-assured tone you’ve ever heard leave her mouth. 

The sister snaps back. “He instructed us to do one thing: get her ready for the day and act like nothing is wrong. It was not to tell her what happened.”

You lightly gasp. “So something has happened,” you state, feeling your heartbeat quicken. Your chest begins to rise and fall to match the rapid rate. “Is he ok?”

There are a few seconds of silent pause before Pixie stands a little straighter, setting her shoulders in a strong line. “Our Lord na-Baron was answering for the death of his brother.”

Your head jerks back. “Rabban?” you question, your brow pinching. “Rabban is dead?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“And Feyd is the one who killed him?” That doesn’t make any sense. While Feyd has complained enough for you to know Rabban is a bumbling idiot, he eventually found a way for his brother to serve a purpose. Why would he kill a man when he is no longer the nuisance he once was, you wonder, so you ask, “Why?”

“The Lord Rabban…made suggestions,” Pixie tells you. One of the harpies groans as the other shakes her head.

“What suggestions?”

She bites down and swallows hard, then she says, “He suggested that the na-Baron share you for his own pleasure.”

Instantly, you’re hit with a wave of nausea. Share? Share you? The concept of a foreign woman hopping between men of status is not unusual, but at this point, you assumed if Feyd were going to participate in something like that, he would have sent you off already. Not doing so didn’t even surprise you. He’s too possessive. 

“You said he was answering for Rabban’s death,” you say, but answering for that surely wouldn’t have taken so many hours, not when the Baron saw Rabban as a waste of space. “So where is he now?”

—

He doesn’t notice when you step into the training room and you’re thankful for that. You came on a mission to extract more answers out of him, but you don’t mind having a second to admire him sparing against his trainer. 

He’s sweaty. You like him sweaty—sweaty and bare-chested and perfectly, effortlessly mesmerizing as aggressive grunts leave his lips. You silently watch their violent dance, your form mouse-like by the door until his trainer looks up and halts to stare at you. Feyd whips around to follow his line of sight, then he sighs and turns back to the smaller man. He mutters something as he grabs the rag at his belt and runs it down his face. 

The trainer leaves and Feyd places his knife back on the table among many others. “I told them to keep you away today,” he says dully, monotone, not meeting your eyes as he runs his finger over the blade and fiddles with the hilt. “Incompetent brats.” 

“You didn’t come to bed.”

“I was busy,” he responds without letting a beat pass. He continues to avoid your stare and mess with the knives as if he’s never wielded them before.

You slowly step down the stairs into the pit of the room. “Busy killing your brother?” you ask. The muscles in his back twitch and flex under pale skin as he grips the hilt harder. 

“That is none of your concern.” The distance between you lessens until you’re a foot from his back, but he doesn’t turn around. 

“Even though you killed him because of me?” you ask. His neck ticks and his head tilts and shifts to adjust to the tension. When he still doesn’t respond, you try another angle. “Why are your harpies referring to me as their ‘Lady’?”

That seems to do it. Feyd faces you, crosses his arms, and leans his lower back against the table. “You think spending one night without me gives you permission to be nosy?”

You don’t give in to his method of shutting you up by aiming to make you feel silly and guilty. Instead, your eyes narrow and you mirror the crossing of arms. “Why am I a Lady again?”   

“You just are.”  

“Are you sending me home?”

His eyes flash. Blue irises darken a shade. “Don’t be stupid.”

“So I’m a Lady on Giedi Prime?” you ask, dropping your chin to emphasize how ridiculous that sounds. 

The edge of Feyd’s jaw sharpens as he clenches his back teeth. “Stop asking questions.”

“Then answer one,” you say. 

It’s a shot taken by an untrained hand, as he doesn’t enjoy demands, especially not from you, but you figure you have nothing to lose in the attempt, so you don’t cower under his menacing glare. You wait. And much to your surprise, he surrenders. 

He blinks, and when his eyes open, they have softened ever so slightly. Then he says, “You’re marrying me,” and everything from your lungs to your limbs freezes in shock. 

“W–What?” you stutter. That makes less sense than Rabban’s sudden death. 

Feyd groans and stands straight, his arms falling at his sides. “See what being nosy gets you?” he snaps. “I wasn’t going to tell you immediately, and you had to go and ruin it.”

He grabs a fresh knife and stomps his way over to a dummy, ready to attack something other than you for the insecurity that he can’t completely contain. You’ve never witnessed him insecure, but you know the feeling when you see it—the defense mechanism, the distancing himself, the grumbly attitude. 

“I’m not sure I understand,” you press as he slashes and stabs at the soulless victim. “I’m marrying you because you killed your brother for wanting to fuck me?”

With a grunt, the dummy’s head severs from its torso and flies off in your direction. It rolls and rolls and stops just before hitting your feet. The dead eyes stare up at you in silent amusement. Now you’ve done it, they mock.

“I don’t ever want to hear those words come out of your mouth again, do you understand me?” Feyd growls.

Your eyes shoot to his. “The marrying you part or The your brother fucking me part?”

He tosses the knife aside. It clatters against the ground as he closes in on you. His hand wraps around your neck. “Don't test me,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “I will sew your damn lips shut if I have to.”

An empty threat if you’ve ever heard one. He would never harm you, but even if he were going to try, his fingers would need to be squeezing much tighter.

You roll your eyes. “Well then how am I going to suck your cock?”

Something about the tease stuns him. His tense features immediately settle and his whole body eases with his exhale. Glancing at your lips, he licks his own, and you think he might decide to kiss you—after all, it’s been a good twenty-four hours since the last one—but he doesn’t.

You snort. “Didn’t think that one through, did you.”

Long fingers unwrap from around your neck. “You’re not funny,” he mumbles with an odd sense of shame.

“If you don’t find me entertaining, can you maybe take the time to explain all of this better?”   

Feyd considers keeping his mouth shut. You know him well enough to know that. However, it’s ridiculous to contemplate since he’s already spilled the bigger news. Nothing could be more shocking than you, after the bed-warming position you’ve held for months, becoming his wife. 

“My uncle was going to take you away from me for killing Rabban,” he finally says. “So I told him I've had plans to marry you for the alliance and that's why I refused to share you. Rabban wouldn’t take no for an answer, so he had to die.”

Raising a brow, you say, “The Baron accepted that explanation? My House may be one of the Greats, but we do not offer much for Giedi Prime.”

Feyd shrugs. “My uncle enjoys anything that causes upset. Marrying me means we will always own something very valuable to your family.”

It would likely offend another, but you don’t mind being owned. While the Baron may believe the Harkonnens as a whole will own you, you belong to Feyd and Feyd alone. He’ll never allow anyone to hurt you and now he’ll never have to fight or argue with anyone to stake his claim, which works for you just fine, to say the very least. 

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

Your head tilts as you smile. “Caring enough to protect me.”

“Don't flatter yourself,” he says. “I didn't do it for you, I did it for my own benefit.”

Your sweet smile morphs into a smirk. “The benefit being that you get to keep me all to yourself…for the rest of your life.”

With a scoff, Feyd rolls his eyes and crosses his arms again. “Whatever.”

“Feyd…” you sigh, leaning into him.

“What?” he returns in his snarky tone as if he doesn’t want you near, but he doesn’t step out of the bubble of your space.

“I'm happy.”

A pink tinge sneaks onto his pale skin, and he quickly looks away. And before he has a chance to come up with some witty remark to smack you with, you grab his face and press your lips to his. 

You hold on to him until he starts to kiss you back, and then he's reaching for you, pulling you close, wrapping his arms around you, and you know you won't be going anywhere for a good long while.

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙥𝙩2 ✿

characters: penacony men x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, slight angst, poor attempt at comedy, slight spoilers for some character story and 2.2 penacony quest, injury and blood mention

notes: another popular demand! this time with more cat bois!!! part 1 can be found here! tho this can be read as its own part too. genshin boys ver is here!

art credit goes to Flambo_19 on twt!

you just can’t keep yourself away from taking in random strays that are an absolute shit to you huh, [name]?

his breed? orange. that’s it, that’s the breed, what more do you want me to say? jk but he’s still orange. american shorthair orange me thinks. friendly, adaptable, easygoing, playful, good with children and other pets — a perfect american shorthair orange

you first found the poor thing at the streets, hiding under a vehicle, too scared to come out or any approaching humans. sweet cat had a broken limb, holding the dangling paw to his chest as he pathetically meowed

thankfully, you managed to scoop the orange cat up into your arms, wrapped up in your coat before rushing him to the nearest vet

since then, nyanturine has made his progress to be your next addition to an ever growing collection of cats

a strangely crow like cat. nyanturine likes shiny, expensive things. shiny rocks? his. shiny clothes? his. material that glitters? his. expensive earrings and diamonds? his. expensive jewelries? his. everything shiny and expensive that the orange cat lays his eyes upon is his now. pretty please, [name] buy him that earring for him to play with?

out of every cats at home — you sure your home isn’t a daycare for cats? — nyanturine gets along the most with dr.nyatio and occasionally with nyelt. the orange and brown cats can be found chatting away, peacefully settled on the windowsill

not so surprisingly, nyanturine is chatty as every orange cats are, except he needs to get used to the human first before turning into a yapper. with you, it only took a week spent in your arms for nyanturine to get used to your presence

just sit him beside you on the table behind his own mini computer with one of his favorite shiny earrings laid before him while you do your work on your own computer and nyanturine will be chatting your ear off in a storm. though, his yapping sometimes tends to irritate the other cats. dr.nyatio being one of them as you watched the bigger cat jump into the table before smacking nyanturine over the head with his paw

you were pretty sure you witnessed an attempted homicide between cats that day…

surprisingly, nyanturine also likes games! card games, poker, monopoly, uno. don’t ask how but somehow you once got bested by your damn cat when nyanturine placed down +10 on you at uno. you nearly ended up behind bars if it weren’t for meow yuan’s big floofy body holding you down—

he will push all of the tokens in front of him towards the table with a meow. sometimes, you swear you can hear “all in!” in his meows but maybe that’s the ghosts in your home talking

out of every cats you housed and still do till this day, nyanturine has the most unique eyes. cyan blue on the inside fading out into a pinkish hue. when asking about it from the vets, all they could do was shrug and say it could perhaps be a very unique ocular albinism or dna mutation. either way, your cats are a fucking model

nyanturine loves the mini fedora hat you made for him as a joke. wears it nearly everyday, every time, anywhere unless he accidentally knocks it over when zooming around the house

a solid kitty if you can get behind the creepy gloving of his eyes in the dark and his tendency to win against you in every poker games

art credit goes to nasuka_gee on twt!

you first found dr.nyatio by… huh? whatchu mean you didn’t found him? you’re telling me he just waltzed his ass inside your home one day through the window and has been making himself one of the many feline bosses of the house just like that? you sure dr.nyatio isn’t anyone else’s cat? [name]? [name], answer me…

well… whatever floats your boat i guess…

the most sassiest out of all of the fucking cats and that is saying something because you literally have nyan heng and meow yuan

a bengal, me thinks. snow lynx type of marbled tan and brown bengal. a smart piece of shit and he knows it, always yapping your ears off about a certain topic. more specifically, anything to do with algorithm, geometry etc etc

but compared to nyanturine and meowhill, dr.nyatio only ever yaps about those topics and those topics only. oddly enough, he kind of reminds you of one of those annoying lecturers at your old university…

very very curious cat. what’s up there? why are you late? what did you bring? what’s inside your bag? why do you smell so different?

pause.

why do you smell so different, [name]? where have you been? who have you been with? why are you later than usual, [name]? [name] answer him. answer dr.nyatio right now before he loses his shit—

oddly likes bathing time compared to the other cats. though, dr.nyatio is a diva when it cones to taking his baths. the water must be lukewarm, not too full so when he sits in the bathtub, the water will be around his low chest area. the bath must have bubbles and those cute yellow ducks floating around or he will not step inside the bathroom

do you think of him as a low class cat? how dare you, [name]

yeah… safe to say that dr.nyatio spends more money on shampoo, hair treatment than you do

gets along with every cats actually. other than nyanturine. the two tend to scuffle sometimes. and sometimes, you can find dr.nyatio just yapping away to the other cats while he points at… an encyclopedia? since when and where did he drag that out from?

dr.nyatio has an odd hyper fixation and obsession with ancient greek things. anything related to them and the cat is not leaving the site or the front of the screen, patiently watching and listening to the documentary about ancient greek and its architectures and impact in the field of mathematics

once, you decided to bring him along to your local clay making club for shits and giggles, making a mini ionic order pillars and he fucking loved it. loves to sit in the middle of the curved placed pillars and have his pictures taken like a model

dr.nyatio also loves the cute cat helmet like thing you made for him from plastic diy materials. it works as something akin to a mask for him and the bengal loves wearing it whenever you have to step outside with him

once, one of your friends who came over at your home asked you why you named dr.nyatio that way

“is he a doctor or something? what field is his research then?” they asked, unknowingly opening a jar of worms upon themselves. you simply opened up dr.nyatio’s favorite encyclopedia in front of your friend as the bengal cat takes his place, starting to yap up a storm as the cat points to random parts of the book

after a good hour or two, your friend turned to you for help, quietly coming to regret their decision. dr.nyatio didn’t take that kindly, smacking your friend’s face back to focus on him with his soft paw before continuing

yep. doctor veritas nyatio, everyone

“meaw! [name], mrrp ammmeow mrrep mrrya! you will refer to me as doctor and doctor alone!”

art credit goes to Flambo_19 on twt!

a very demanding grey korat breed of cat, mr.meowday is

he isn’t much talkative nor is he much affectionate. but what meowday is, demanding and loves control. you once asked your local vet for advice after months of the grey korat telling you exactly how to make his food, which kibbles to buy etc etc and the vet simply reassured you with a “korat breed of cats tend to be a bit demanding and intelligent. they love to be in charge so don’t worry” and a pat on the back

yeah… you have yourself another demanding cat that loves to make you his human slave alongside dr.nyatio. don’t you think you have enough cats reigning over you in your own home now, [name]?

you adopted the poor thing from a shelter near your workplace when you heard the poor thing constantly crying out. when asking the shelter workers, they said that the cat tends to do that at random hours of the day, just calling out for attention from someone or a certain something

taking pity on the poor lonely korat sitting in the corner of his cage with his back to the world, you decided to adopt him, making yet another dumb decision

really loves sundays for that is one of the days that you have time to spend the whole day at home with the cats. and you also love to dub the last day of the week as ‘lazy day’ and therefore, you decided to name him after it. meowday, he was since then

still, even after months of living with you and the other cats, meowday still sits on the window sling, meowing out for someone or something as he wistfully stares out the window. poor cat… you’re still having some problem trying to understand what was the problem and why meowday would do that so you can at least comfort the poor thing

one day while you were showing your co-workers who loves cats as well of your cats and landed on meowday. seeing the grey, elegant korat, your co-worker asked over and over if that really was your cat

you nodded with a furrowed brows, finding it odd that your co-worker would ask such questions. until they whipped out their phone, scrolling through their gallery before showing you… an eerily similar korat

same shade of eyes, same pose, same elegant manner — you would nearly mistake it for your own cat if it weren’t for the slight shade of white grey of your co-worker’s cat fur

a korat as well. from the same animal shelter you adopted meowday too!

after careful consideration and a lot of talk, you two decided to let the two felines meet on the weekends to see if they are perhaps lost siblings, parents or anything along the lines

finally, the day arrives and your co-worker comes over. a carrying bag slung over their shoulder as they step inside. meowday could barely care for your human companion coming over, it happens all the time and he had grown used to the presence of visitors unlike some of the other cats

until he hears a soft meow that sounded eerily similar to his sister. whipping his head around, meowday nearly broke his paws due to his sudden rough landing from the window sling, practically zooming over before tackling the smaller korat to the floor

sad yet happy meows coming from meowday, grooming the other cats’ face with loud constant meows. you were pretty sure that your co-worker’s cat was meowday’s sibling now

ever since then, the grey korat constantly scratches at your feet, doing his utmost best to silently ask you to let him see his sister again, nearly everyday. please just allow him to see his sister, he had dearly missed her. please, he will be a good kitty! the best kitty in the house!

meowday could barely go a day without glooming if he doesn’t see his sister, and so you and your co-worker arranged a weekly meetings and a video call everyday to allow the siblings to meow to each other through the screen

art credit goes to Flambo_19 on twt!

is it a mini panther? is it a dog? no! it’s just your one of the most chillest cats, gallagnya

he’s a havana brown like nyelt— wait a minute, what do you mean he wasn’t a havan brown like nyelt? you sure you got it correctly? the fur sample? huh…?

“gallagnya is actually a bombay cat. brown bombay” you can hear the vet on the phone, your face immediately going pale at the news of what breed gallagnya truly has been all this time as the said cat stares at you with a “mhm. that’s right” face from the kitchen counter

why? what was the reason you were suddenly going pale you ask? you were so sure that gallagnya was another havana brown like nyelt and has been feeding him nyelt’s kibbles for havana brown. in simpler terms, you’ve been feeding gallagnya the wrong kibbles

very wrong kibbles

but don’t worry, gallagnya is a chill cat and he immediately forgave you with a lick to your forehead the next day you came home crying with a bunch of treats and the correct kibbles for the shaggy, brown cat

gallagnya isn’t exactly a mean cat but he enjoyed the look of jealousy and anger on the other cats’ face as you pampered him day in and out for giving him the wrong kibbles. the bombay cat secretly hoped that you spent a little bit longer without knowing his exact breed so you could pamper him more. eh, oh well

the main reason your vet had a hard time finding out exactly what breed he was is because bombay cats aren’t the most easiest to spot or find out. it’s a bit hard to detect them and their breed since they are a human bred cat breed

but at least you have another big cat! third biggest cat after lion like meow yuan and cheetah like nyepard. safe to say you feel safe as hell whenever you go out for a quick walk with your three big cats

another funny thing about the story between you and gallagnya is that… you genuinely don’t know where the fuck the large cat came from. did he follow you home? did he slip in through the open window one day and made himself home? who knows. not you

at least gallagnya is chill. and nice. gets along well with basically every cat except for mr.meowday— “WOOF!”

“eh, it’s probably just the neighbor’s dog going out for a walk in the hallways of the apartment—“

“WOOF!” before you could finish your little excuse for the barking you just heard, you feel the heavy big body of gallagnya pounce on top of you on the bed, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs

… great. not only do you have hundreds of cats inside your home, three of them being nearly as big as predator wildlife animals, you have to worry about the third biggest cat being a barker rather than a meower

when and where the fuck did gallagnya even learned to bark rather than meow anyways? eh, that’s a question for you to find out next morning. right now, you were too damn tired and your bed was a siren that you willingly gave yourself to

you did not found out the answer to that question the next morning. even the vets were weirded out by it since, although bombay cats are indeed seen as dog-like with their playful and friendly nature, they never cane across one that literally barked like a dog

well… at least you can scare people away with gallagnya’s barks…?

art credit goes to Hanres4 on twt!

the siamese mom in me wants to say that meowhill would be a siamese, but the logical brain in me is shouting TUXEDO CAT

and yes, meowhill is indeed a tuxedo cat. one that just won’t shut up and leave you alone

going to the bathroom? let him come along and get real political while lying on the bathroom rugs while you take a shit

leaving for the convenience store? just let him stay on your shoulder while he yaps your ears off about which seasoning to pick— no, screwubaBOO THE KOREAN SOY SAUCE TASTES BETTER ON BARBECUE!

staying home and trying to type up your work on the computer? you have a free proofreader for you who wouldn’t hesitate to meow your ears off and point at some of the things you wrote. he will even sit on your keyboard

due to his yapper nature, meowhill tends to irritate some of the cats. especially those who love their peace and quiet and staying silent

which is a huge surprise whenever you find the mischievous tuxedo cat constantly beside nyan heng, the poor black manx looking dreadful as he allows meowhill to yap his ears off. you did not wanted to get entangled nor did you go over and wanted to hear what meowhill was yapping about

meowhill also gets along with nyagenti! the two cats seem to share a past together as when you first brought meowhill home, the tuxedo cat went straight first to the elegant norweigan forest cat

ah right, speaking of bringing meowhill in…

you found the poor thing with a rotted paws and bad burn wounds. poor little thing was burnt so badly it was hard to tell the color of his fur and he kept yowling in pain when you wrapped your coat around him to rush him to the nearest vet

sadly, his front two legs were badly broken and injured and had no way of recovering. and so, the vets had no other choice but to put him under anesthetic to cut off his front two legs and replace them with prosthetics

due to the nature of his injuries, meowhill required a lot of your and the other cats’ attention. recovering from losing both of his front legs and the nasty burn wounds is a long journey and meowhill needed the support from his new human friend and fellow felines

after a long and sometimes painful 2 months, meowhill had made a full recovery! the tuxedo cat’s fur grew back and he had gotten used to walking and sprinting on his prosthetic legs. you never realized how much of an energetic cat he was until you broke the news that he made a full recovery

though, like meowday, meowhill has a slight problem of constantly sitting on the window sling and meowing out the window. why? you didn’t know

is very protective of little nyanqing. you can find the tuxedo constantly nagging meow yuan and stealing meow yuan’s little cub away from him. holding the tiny munchkin by his scruff and taking him away to dote on the little cream cat somewhere in the house

it wasn’t until you took the tuxedo cat out for a shopping in the pet essentials store as a congratulations for making full recovery and the tuxedo immediately latched onto a tiny, white kitten plush did you connect the dots

poor thing had a kitten before…

you bought the white kitten plush for him of course. you don’t have the heart to wrench it away from him

making a trip back to where you originally found meowhill, you couldn’t find anything much other than an old, burnt, red scarf. you made an exact same replica of the mini scarf in secret and gave it to meowhill for his birthday gift, wrapping the soft silk around his neck snuggly before wrapping the same scarf around the plushie

ever since then, meowhill has been deathly clingy with you and the plushie. there isn’t a single day or night where you won’t see meowhill without the white plushie, grooming it, cuddling with it and taking it with him by the scruff of the kitten plushie

art credit goes to helen_zzhao on ig!

an elegant norweigan forest cat! is his fur, brown? burgundy? red? no one knows!

nyagenti is such a beautiful cat that he competes with meow yuan in their beauty level whenever you take them out on a walk. everyone wants to pet the elegant kitties and it doesn’t help that meow yuan and nyagenti are both such gentle kitties

gets along with every cats! anyone! your friends that came over for a game night, the sitters when you need to be away for a few days of business trip, the neighbors — everyone! nyagenti has no enemies

out of everyone, nyagenti gets along best with nyelt, nyan heng and meowhill. meowhill and nyagenti used to share a past it seemed as the two cats hit it off right away while the norweigan forest cat got used to the presence of nyan heng and nyelt very quickly

tends to yap sometimes — more like pray to someone or something — but isn’t as bad as meowhill or nyaturine

doesn’t really mind bath times but he prefers grooming more than bath times. he has a beautiful long fur and they’re very dense and thick so it takes the whole day for him to finally become dry so, please let’s just settle on grooming? he can bring over the brushes for you!

a very big gift giver! shiny jewels, pretty leaves that just fell, nice shaped rocks, cockroaches— nope. nuh-uh. you are NOT getting cockroaches as a gift even though the thought is swee— OH MY GOD HE DROPPED THE COCKROACH ON YOUR BED!!!1!1!

yeah… your friend looks at you as if you’ve finally lost your mind when they came over one day and saw hundreds of rat poisons, bug and insect killing sprays just racked on your shelf like you’re gonna sell them. in return you simply deadpanned back and pointed at nyagenti who already had another cockroach in his mouth

how did you ended up having nyagenti? who knows. at this point you gave up on trying to keep track of how, when, where you got your cats from. he probably just made himself known in your house one day and you simply accepted the sign from cat distribution system no.195826592649

such a gentlemanly cat. you joke that he can kiss the back of your hand to the guests and guess what? one day, nyagenti actually did do that. the look on the guest’s face will forever live rent free in your mind

really likes red roses for some reason. thankfully, roses aren’t toxic to cats unlike some other flowers such as lily, daffodil, hyacinths but nyagenti’s love for red roses nearly borderlines on obsession in a sense

when asking the vet if there could be any reason or explanation for this, they simply patted your back, told you that you had a tendency to attract weird cats and shooed you out. not fully, but they lowkey did that and said “roses have a nice scent that tends to attract cats or dogs. they might end up taking a bite from the flower but it isn’t poisonous or toxic, so no need to worry”

still, you’re getting tired of constantly living with red rose petals thrown everywhere in your house. so much so you have gotten used to it and just decided to leave it be. if your friend comes over and sees the rose petals as something romantical, you simply shove nyagenti into their faces

unlike the other cats, nyagenti isn’t the most clingy or affectionate cat. though, that isn’t to say he is cold and distant, he does love you! but he just shows it in small ways and in quiet manners

bringing over his brush for you to help him groom his beautiful thick fur, waking you up gently in the morning with soft meows and gentle licks, even knowing to turn on the AC on a warm temperature after your shower because you always come out shivering

and he is definitely the one who leaves the fresh red roses on your bedside nightstand every morning you wake up

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 17

Prompt: Threesome/Moresome Pairing: OT8 SKZ x fem!reader WC: 4.4k Summary: Maybe after this the term “comeback” takes on a new meaning.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this.

I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy.

Additional TW/CW below the cut.

TW/CW: Gangbang, lots of cum, light bondage, reader goes nonverbal, all consenting, traffic light system and boundaries discussed, anal, piv, oral (male receiving), titfucking, multiple partners, dirty talk, multiple pet names, cumming prematurely(?), some aftercare/during care. 

 Eight pairs of hands. Eight types of touch to match their eight personalities. Sudden squeezes, languid strokes, hesitant brushes, deep pushes, light tugs, gentle pats, intermittent shy caresses, persistent strong grasps. It was Chan’s idea that you’d heartily agreed to.  “The boys have been seeming sort of down lately,” you’d mentioned over the thundering rush of dishwater. “Should I make a cake or something?”  Nose pressed to the side of your head Chan inhales deeply, squeezing the fronts your thighs. The scent of your scalp and the squish of your quads soothing his anxious mind. “We’ve been working hard. I think it’ll turn out well.”  “So…cake? Can you all eat it? I could make a carrot cake or modify-”  Chan grabs a handful of ass, not one to miss the opportunity for a bad pun. “Wouldn’t mind sharing some of this cake. I’m sure we could all enjoy it.”  “You think?”  “Baby, the reason the boys are always excited to see you…”  “It’s not the novelty of Betty Crocker Funfetti?” Chan giggles, grabbing a handful of bum as he grinds against you, an obvious lump forming in his sweatpants. “We could make you into Funfetti.”  “How do the boys feel about pie,” you ask coyly, pushing your hips back to greet him.

 That was how this whole idea started. And now you were tied to a bench, trussed up like a pretty present, holes exposed and ready. Blindfolded.

 It’s easy to sink into the sensation of each of their hands, unique in their own right. You can only really for sure name Chan’s, calloused and firm.  “...and we can do anything?” Jeongin’s voice twangs, tense at the thought. “She really will let us do anything?”  You’re only half listening, indulging in the peace of mind numbing stimulation. Moaning and nodding as your chin wrests on the bench you’re strapped over.  “She knows how to say no. Color system, if she’s unable to speak, two pinches is slow, three is stop everything.”  A chorus of tenor and baritone voices murmur in agreement. Your stomach tingles, chills passing the inches of exposed skin. You’re so ready. You’re beyond ready.

 There’s almost a ghost of a touch, floating down your side as the room shifts.  “We’re going to pass you around like the cheap whore you were born to be.” A deep bassy voice purrs in your ear, Felix. Your back arches exposing more of your holes like a cat in heat. “You like that? You like the sound of my voice, pretty? Does that turn you on? We’re all watching you.”  “Mhm,” you bite your lips and you wiggle against your confinements.  “Want me to tell you everything we’re gonna do to you? Dirty slut. First we’re all gonna give this cute little cunt a try,” you feel him slide his fingers along your slit, staying shallow enough to tease your entrance before catching the rim of your jeweled plug weighing heavily in your hole. “Chris did say we can use you however we want.” Felix muses as he pushes the end closer to your rim, jostling it just enough to earn a whine.  “Hurry the fuck up,” another voice chimes in, two fingers roughly ramming into your wet hole. Seungmin. Impatiently pressing his tip against the cleft of your ass as he fingers you open. “She’s ready, I’m ready. Keep doing your perv asmr thing but I’m fucking her.”

 With that Seungmin pushes into you, sighing with relief. Your spine curls as much as you can, spread over the bench as you are, fingers scrambling in the air.  “Oh fuck!” Seungmins hands wander over the small of your back, pushing weight down on you as his hips rock back and forth. “You have to try this pussy, god damn. Now i see why the old man is so fucking whipped.” He groans again as he pulls all the way out until only the very tip of his shaft is still sheathed. Glistening with your arousal he uses his thumbs to spread your slit wide, watching your walls stretch to accommodate him.  “Minnie’s right, you’re taking him so well. In fact, you’re going to take all eight of us aren’t you?” Felix purrs. “Now, be a doll and open your mouth for me.”  You drop your jaw, tongue lolling out, blindly accepting whatever Felix was going to give you.  Before Seungmin can build any speed and before Felix has his way with your mouth you hear a commotion at your rear. Then Seunmgin being pulled from you, leaving you jaw agape and whining from the loss of fullness.

 “Asshole, before you fuck her up we all gotta try.” Sharp words with crisp plosives cut through the confusion. Suddenly a thicker intrusion bullies its way between your walls. “Tremendous ass princess,” a hearty smack of a rough hand comes down on your ass cheek. You’re barely breathing with the thick length shoved snugly inside of you, the force of the spank has every muscle flexing to hold you together.  You moan.  Two hands grab each lobe, molding them like putty in his strong grip. Changbin. “Can’t wait to run you through.”  You’d always wondered about the rapper, most closely your type following your own boyfriend. How did his dual persona fit into his bedroom manner, how alike would he be to Chan, was it true what they said about rappers and their tongues? As suddenly as he’d entered you feel the protested drag of your walls, eager to keep him as he exits.  A thinly voiced dragged out “no” escapes your lips.  “Bok-ah, you want next?” Changbin offers, patting your ass.  You’d almost forgot Felix was there.  “I’m okay with just these pretty lips up here,” he says as he thumbs over your lower lip. Dropping your jaw again you remember he’d wanted this to begin with, before the other boys had started tag teaming your cunt.  “I’m okay too,” IN chimes in, “I can wait my turn.” He lowers his voice almost imperceptibly, just enough to sound like a cool mature guy. You could just imagine him standing a bit farther back, eyes transfixed on your glistening lips as they stretched for each of his members.  “Yeah you’re the only impatient one, meathead.” Minho. Of course Minho. His hips roll easily against you, just a taste of what’s to come. His hand runs over your ass, over the other entrance. “Got any toys for her?” He addresses the room, talking as though you couldn’t reply.

 Felix, you assume, finally taps the tip of his length against your tongue. Much to your delight he’s slightly sweeter than you’d assume as you lick against him. Chan’s reply to Minho is inaudible as Felix purrs. “You like that? Been drinking nothing but pineapple juice for you. Chris told me you’d like that.”

 Taking him fully in your mouth you bob enthusiastically focusing fully on him as two more strange new cocks slide into you all too briefly before Seungmin settles back over you, fucking you with a steady and uncomplicated rhythm. Felix is veiny, fun to explore as you run the length of him. He easily guides you the full way down, your nose pressing into his pubic bone as spit runs down your face. “Hey Chris, can we take off the blindfold?”  “Sure man, whatever you want.”  The blindfold flips up to your forehead. Luckily the lights are low enough so your eyes don’t have to adjust much. “Focus on my face sweetheart. Just want to see your pretty teary fucked out face while we ruin you.” Felix smiles as he feeds you his cock all the way to the base once more, watching you splutter and fight back your gag reflex. The tight ring of your throat squeezing him as he grinds into the wet warmth. You battle valiantly to keep your eyes looking up at him as they threaten to flutter shut, tears streaking your cheeks.  Not a second too soon he eases up, beaming down at you, thumbs wiping at your stained face. “Such a good girl for us. Chris is gonna be so proud of you.”  You smile for a second, spit burbling from your lips, before you feel Seungmins hands at your mid back, pushing you into a deeper arch. From one strong stroke you can tell he’s found it, face opening into a groan. “Do that shit again ‘Lix. I wanna see her struggle.”  “You heard the man, you ready?” He watches as you gulp and take a deep breath which is almost immediately punched out of you by Seungmin slamming his hips against you. Your fingers grip the legs of the bench as you are pressed between their bodies as deep as they can go on either end. Groaning around Felix and clasping down on Seungmin the noise in your brain crescendos and violently mutes into a peaceful fuzzy static.  Seungmin laughs as you twitch and spasm.  “Holy fuck, I can’t-” Felix struggles to keep his hips steady, eyes rolling back in ecstasy.  “I’m gonna too-” You can hear the gritting of Seungmins teeth as he speaks.  “Be good and take it all okay, take all I’ve got-” Felix mutters, spilling down the back of your throat. You gag, tears and spit and snot running everywhere as he pulls back from you, still weakly spurting on his thighs.  Barely able to breathe as Seungmin chases his high you mumble his nickname over and over. “Minnie, oh-fucking- ah-” Felix’s hand keeps your head from scraping against the bench as you become boneless, eyelids fluttering shut. Seungmin pulls from you just as you reach your high, whining and writhing in the agony of denial. Hot cum splashes across your ass slowly dripping down your thighs.

 “How’s our girl doing,” a soft melodic voice asks. “What your color darling?”  “Green,” you pant, vision still swimming. “Green green green green.”  He laughs. Hyunjin’s giggle. Good.  Slim and strong, there is always something languid about his movements. His finger tip traces your spine gently. “A beautiful sculpture should be appreciated,” he says slowly. It sends shivers running after his hands. Descending to the curve of your ass he spreads you wider, licking into your puffy oversensitive parts. Tongue lapping at you as you squeal the wet lewd sounds fill the air.  “Fuck, Hyunnie!” You practically rock the bench as you writhe. His tongue ventures to your other hole, teasing the tight bundle until you cry out. All of your fingers and toes curl and twitch as your walls clench around nothing. “Fuck me please,” you beg, voice wrecked with sobs. You’re surprised at your quick rebound but the promise of the lithe dancer is almost too much to bear.  Hyunjin’s lips graze your shoulder blade as he bottoms out in you with a shudder of effort, nearly knocking the bench forward in his attempt to get as much of himself inside of you as possible. Churning in your stomach you feel full again, fuller even. You nearly cum again, world whiting out in front of your eyes.  “That’s right pretty, all for you.” You wish you could see, could watch the man fuck into you more than anything in the world. He feels larger than you’d have ever expected from his slight frame.  Draped over you, the squelching of your two sweaty bodies pervades your mind as he humps quickly and shallowly. Chasing his high more than anything, each thrust punches you in the gut. The sounds that come from your mouth are unladylike wheezes that catch in your throat and turn into grunts. Two long fingers fill your mouth, sticky and salty from the mix of bodily fluids. Hyunjin cums mercifully quickly, spilling inside of you.  “I wanna see the other guys fuck it deeper,” he whispers, sweat dripping from his nose to your cheek. The thought gives you goosebumps.  Strong arms wrap around your back, caging over you as he undoes your buckled down arms to lift you from your post. Your toes barely sweep the floor before he has you on the nearby mattress. Changbin, stronger than your Channie, surprises you with his gentleness. For all the hurrying and jeering he’d done to the other guys, he’s suddenly soft with you.  “Hey,” he smiles all too familiarly, in a way that makes your gut stir. “Tired yet, princess? Told ya we’d run you through.”  You make grabby hands up at him, whining as you try to pull him closer.  “She usually non-verbal?” Changbin actually sounds a little concerned as he turns his head to ask your boyfriend. “Or should we- are you still good? Still green princess?”  You nod.  “If she says go, go.”  Changbin doesn’t waste another second, pushing into you aided by Hyunjin’s cum. The stretch despite the other members best efforts still forces a guttural groan from your lungs. He’s not as long as the others but the change of angle and thickness makes up for it in the best way. You can feel him bullying the plug on the other side of your walls in a way no one else has managed to do. He nuzzles into your neck as he starts fucking into you, only grunts coming from his normally busy mouth. Zoned into the singular thought of filling you.  With your hands finally free you’re able to explore his back as you scramble to hold yourself together. Your fingernails leave little crescents in the otherwise steel frame. Sturdy and unshakable as you tremor below him.  “Bin- I’m- ah-” you start to warn him of your swiftly approaching climax but he’s two steps ahead as your cunt clenches down. Arms wrapping beneath your thighs he pushes your hips just a little bit higher up. You see stars. It’s like he’s fully in your guts as he maintains his pace, fucking right into that spongy spot of yours. Mouth agape you can feel yourself wanting to make noise but your head is so full you can’t tell if its actually happening or not. All of your muscles contract at once as you climax.  “Holy shit did she-” the next thing you hear is a murmur from Jeongin. Release drips down Changbin’s pelvis as you both pant.  “Oh yeah, that’s our princess,” Changbin smiles like a champion as he slides from you, spent. Both of you are soaked in your cum, his cum, and Hyunjins cum. Grabbing the box of baby wipes he starts to clean himself off before he sees Chan start to clean your thighs. You barely notice he’s waddled off and back until you are being propped up between his thighs, a straw passing between your lips. “Drink for a good job.”

 The click of a cap is like fingers snapping, awakening you from your fucked foggy state. You look up and back to see Minho’s upsidedown bemused smirk as he watches the meatheads treat you like the sentient communal fuck doll that needs a tune up. Slowly he strokes himself, appraising you.

 “Jiji, care to join? I think this one has room for two.”  “Huh? Y-yeah,” you hear the taut voice of Han on the opposite side of the room.  “Hey, big boy, move.” Minho is less gentle with him, sliding behind you to take his place behind you, holding you between his thighs as Changbin had. His hands spread you wide open to the room, fingers grazing over the plug still nestled between your cheeks. The nearly icy drip of lube tickles your other hole, sliding around the stem of the plug. A deep breath in helps relax and allow the applier to slowly fuck the metal in and out..  Minho chuckles and smacks your thigh, your hole clenching down suddenly. “Are you tired? Huh? Too many cocks? Be thankful there’s only eight of us.” Thumb positioned on the end of the jeweled plug he slowly teases, swirling in languid circles as you writhe. Each nudge has your stomach tensing, desire growing within you.  Han Jisung is standing in front of you as you look dazed up at him. Blood rushes to his cock so fast he swears he might pass out from the loss to his brain. He watches as Minho finally fully tugs the plug from your fluttering hole and lifts you, slowly spearing you on his cock. Your chest heaves as you slide, mouth open and panting. Minho’s fingers fill your cunt, the sloppy sound of several fluids mixing reverberates in his skull.  “You going to stand there or fuck her?” Minho casually nods down to his fingers. “There’s room. Right, doll?”  You nod mutely, wriggling your ass on him.  Han dives head first into your cunt, eagerly pushing his tongue deep inside of you, lapping at Minho’s soaked fingers. Your legs threaten to snap shut on his head as your oversensitive pussy sends waves of bliss through your body. Minho keeps you locked open as he rocks himself slowly against your ass just barely moving his cock inside of you. It isn’t like he has to do much with Han’s tongue flicking so desperately at your slit.  Groaning, you’re unsure of whose name to call out. Minho or Han?  “Going to cum again? Thought you might be too worn out.”  “H-ha,” you half laugh and moan. You want to boast and brag but the hubris is fucked far from you. Back arching, your hole clenches down on him. You’re so very very close. His hands migrate to your tits, grabbing them, letting the space between his fingers lightly pinch your soft skin. They’d been so neglected and needy that the sudden attention pushes you over the edge, cumming hard on Han’s tongue. He continues to lap at you through it, not stopping until Minho tugs at his hair.  “Jiji, where do you wanna cum, I’m close.” Minho grunts. Sweat travels down his brow.  Han makes a quick appraisal of you, “wannafuckhertits.”  You’re tossed like a ragdoll to the mattress again, Minho easily positioning you on your back with your legs slung around his hips. Han straddles your chest, thighs are warm on your ribcage. His cock is practically drooling precum as he slides it between your mounds, quickly slicking up with your sweat. Squishing the sides together his eyes lock where the head of his cock pops out and disappears. Your tits are so hot around him as his precum slicks the valley between.  “Open,” he commands breathily, waiting for your lips to part. The second they do he drags the pad of his thumb over the wet inner side, pulling them open more. Your tongue naturally hangs out loosely, eyes glazed over. You’ve long given up any pretense of modesty. Of pretending this wasn’t exactly what you’d hoped for. His hand goes to the back of your skull to support your head as you crane forward to attempt to kiss his member. Grunting and straining you’re both working so hard for it as Minho pounds away and jostles you just enough to increase the difficulty.  You feel Minho climax, warmth spreading inside of you. He barely misses a beat as his leg clenches, sinking deeply into you, holding your legs aloft. Your eyelids flutter and toes curl. It feels good to be this full. Feels good to be this filthy. You stretch your tongue just the bit longer and feel contact, hot and salty. Ropes of hot cum jet across your chest and chin and lips as Han’s breath hitches. He freezes and gasps, staring as his cock continues to dribble onto your clavicle.  “Shit I-”  “Ssfine -s’good.”  He stares at his handy work.  “Clean it.” Minho says from behind his back. “Clean your mess.”  Han moves quickly without questioning him, licking across all the streams that he’d shot only looking up, ostensibly to Chan to check if he could clean your lips. The only one to dare to do so, tentatively licking your bottom lip before fully taking it between his lips. Not fully locking into a kiss, not quite.  Your stomach churns as you return to emptiness, only your boyfriend and the youngest left. The others preoccupying themselves with clean up and their own after care.  “How do you want ‘er?” Chan lifts your torso up off the bed and into his arms again, plying you with water. A quick kiss to the cheek asuages any fear that he wasn’t also enjoying himself. “C’mon maknae. Top? Side? Back? She’s got just enough left in her. Don’t you, my sweet thing?”  You nod, “how do you want me?”  It’s only a moment of consideration longer as his eyes linger on your pussy, red and raw. Jeongin’s sweet smile looks all the more sinful as he nears. He slides you into his arms with a surprising ease. A look of shock flashes across your face as he lifts you on to his cock, still standing. Chan had fucked you standing occasionally, but you hadn’t expected this of Innie. Your sweet Innie. Squealing as you let gravity bounce you off his hips, driving him deeper and deeper, clit aching as the blunt pressure hits each time. You’re practically grappled to him, arms locked over his shoulders and ankles crossed behind his back.  Curses spill from your mouth like a prayer. Everything burns bright as you hurtle towards your climax. The thrumbing of your pulse rings in your head and your breath catches. But Jeongin falters slightly, his own breath catching suddenly as well, fingers digging into the meat of your ass. His cock slips between your bodies as he fumbles a few thrusts. A sudden spurt of warmth hits your thigh and stomach. Jeongin is swearing.  “You didn’t- I’m sorry I-”  You blink at him bemused.  He sighs into your shoulder, “I came already.”  “Oh? Oh don’t worry about it I-”  “I wanted to make you cum.”

 The puff of air from your short giggle tickles his throat. Your lips are warm where they kiss his cheek. “You’re so cute.”  As your arms start to burn you’re ripped from Jeongin’s arms and tossed unceremoniously to the bed again. A strong grip wraps around your ankle and tugs your ass to the edge of the mattress. This was how you’d assumed Changbin would be. Instead you see Chan’s wide grin looking over you.  “You look so fucking hot babe.” He praises you as he pushes his cock into your ass, watching your eyes roll back into your skull. “Love it when you’re fucked out like this. When all you can do is take cock.”  You shudder. Tired and overwhelmed and needy under him. Sticky. He feels…good. Its the only word your tired mind can center on. You feel good.  “Innie- you wanna make her cum right?” Chan asks over his shoulder. “Grab that er…big white thing with the blue buttons and c’mere.” Momentarily he leans forward to kiss you, letting his hips gently rock into you. You whimper. He nuzzles you. “Doing alright, sweet thing?”  You nod into his shoulder. “Tired.”  “Don’t worry, princess, I’ll do everything,” Chan pushes the sticky strands of hair back from your face and turns to his group mate. Jeongin barely weighs the bed down as he crawls to your side. “She’ll cum quick so make sure that fucker is set low okay? She’s had a long night already.” Jeongin nods. The toy whirrs to life and he starts to lower it. “Check it on yourself first, bro.” Chan knocks the toy back. “Inside of your wrist.”  You hear a few clicks. Chan locks eyes with you, he looks like a god between your legs. He carefully stretches one to kiss your calf. His cock stirs your insides, thick bastard. You moan and close your eyes. You trust him.  Jeongin carefully places the toy over your mound, your back arching away from the bed. Chan instructed him well.  “Talk her through it.”  “Huh?”  “She likes it when you talk to her, she won’t talk back but she’ll sound really pretty.”  You gasp and whine. He’s right.  Jeongin’s voice is smooth above the buzz of the toy, talking just under his breath enough for only the three of you to hear. “Our prettiest girl did so well for us. Making all your boyfriend’s friends cum. You really are made for taking cock, no wonder Channie hyung keeps you all locked up. Just imagine the trouble we’d get in if he let you into the practice room.”  Another gasp. You can see it, you’re there with him and with Chan at the same time.  “Couch broken. Mirror streaked with sweat and cum. We’d ruin it. But you’d like that. Show everyone who’s girl you are. Right? You’re our princess.”  Your legs are shaking as you nod. Chest tightening again your gut coils in anticipation.  “Can our princess cum again? Please?”  Your legs tremble in answer, hand reaching out to wrap around Jeongin’s bicep. He can see the tension in your neck as your muscles clench all the way to the top of your skull. You’re so so so painfully nearly there.  “Tight lil’ hole ‘s likea vice-” Chan manages to slur. “Ah, fuck, baby-” his voice crackles as he sucks in air through his clenched teeth,”-cum with me darling. Be a good girl.”  Everything happens in a flash, your breath hitching, head thrown back. A magnificent groan spills from your gaping mouth, almost loud enough to rattle the vibrator back. Chan slows as your hips stutter and kick, his warmth spreading inside you as your walls milk him. Jeongin stares wide eyed, vibrator dropping off to your side, as he watches you flood his friend’s pelvis and thighs. His own stomach caves as weak spurts of ejaculate dribble down to the bed.  Chan pulls from you and bundles you into a little ball on your side. Kissing your arms and legs as he instructs the rest of the boys in their clean up duties. You’d done enough, you didn’t need to worry about this, you never needed to worry about this part of the night. Chan made sure of that. Your tired limbs are lifted to a warm tub, eyes too weary to open. Many trusted hands hold you as they carefully wash the filth from you. Their touches are less distinct now as you lean into them. All warm, all sure, all caring. One or many, you couldn’t tell. Your boys, all of them.

ngl i blacked out and wrote this. i have not re-read. i’m sorry if its not coherent.

[senualothbrok]

A Perfect Storm

Summary: You and Gale give in to your passions, but there are some obstacles along the way.

Sequel to 'A Tight Fit' and 'A Generous Portion'. A reimagining of the Gale romance in Act 1 and Act 2, featuring nosy menaces Karlach and Astarion.

Word count: 5.6k

Disclaimers: Gale x female Tav/reader. NSFW. 18+. Smut. Oral sex. Vaginal penetration. Heavy petting. Light angst.

AO3 link

Beta: @dekariosclan, thank you so much, you are amazing and wonderful.

****

Peach juice gleams on Gale's beard, trickling down the thrust of his chin. He makes a slow sucking sound as it spills down the folds of your fingers. He pauses, his tongue darting over the bulge of his bottom lip, thick and wet. 

His eyes are full and black, sparking purple from the throbbing of his orb. You were not certain what that meant before. You have no doubts now.

He lets out a low moan as he bites down again.

The peach falls from your hand. He does not move. Neither do you. There is a moment when you simply stare at him, alight with the pulse of his desire, rippling with the slick fire spreading from your core. Entranced by the unmistakable swelling between his thighs. 

And then, you feast.

You fall on each other. A gush of peaches cascades across the ground. He laps and sucks at your fingers in a tumult of groans, as your tongue draws frenzied arcs over his soaked stubble, the honey of his skin. His hands are everywhere at once, weaving through your hair, grasping at your breasts, pressing your hips against his. You cannot get enough of him, pawing at his shoulders and his chest and his tousled waves, the bristled heat of his neck, the broad grooves of his back. When your mouths meet, you devour each other, ravenous for touch, scent, taste, anything, everything, more.

You are no longer aware of the open vista around you, the impending return of your companions. Nothing exists but Gale’s panting breaths, the velvet swirls of his tongue. His smouldering flesh against yours, crushing out all space between you, as it had been the first time, when there was no room for pretences and nowhere to hide. All that exists now is your desire, revealed and returned, at long last.

When your hand dips beneath his robe, his hips cant up to meet you. And when your fingers find what they seek, he shudders into the nook of your neck. It is no longer a memory, an ache that beset so many listless nights in your bedroll. You take hold of his hardness, hot and familiar. Searching fingers trail down the inside of your thigh, and you whimper as he rasps your name like a plea.

In the trance of your lust and longing, you do not notice the deepening flare of Gale’s chest. Blinding blades of indigo cut through Gale’s skin. As you move your hand along his length, he buckles into you. He lurches back with a cry. 

You freeze as Gale doubles over, clasping at his chest. Ebony-purple tendrils writhe on his neck like poisoned veins, his chest a searing brightness that hurts your eyes. 

“Gale, what's wrong? What's happening?”

He clenches his jaw, folding into himself. Choking breaths sputter out of him as he balls and unballs his fists. To see Gale deprived of speech is a unique brand of horror. You have no idea what to do.

“Do you need a magical artefact? A potion? Should I get–”

He jerks his head. You watch, terrified and helpless, as he extends a shaking palm. Wait. Please. Wait. His eyes wrench closed, his lips rippling as though in prayer. 

Is this what it was like for him, that year in his tower, before your paths had crossed? The thought of him alone and abandoned, trapped in these convulsions of torment, shoots through you like pain. 

You are not sure how long you sit there.  Gradually, excruciatingly, his breathing slows to a laboured rhythm. The orb dims to a lavender wash. Relief overwhelms you as he lifts his head.

“I'm alright,” he heaves. “I'm fine, Tav.”

“Are you sure you don't need–”

“I'm fine. It’s safe. The orb… it's safe now.”

You suddenly feel so foolish. So blind.

“I'm sorry, Gale. I'm so sorry.” 

“Whatever for?” His voice is broken, but still so tender. You could cry.

“All this time…I thought you were avoiding me because…”

You look away. He dips his head to chase your gaze. “Why?”

“Because you felt embarrassed. Because you didn't want me.”

He lets out a huff of disbelief. His gaze is urgent, so urgent, as he looks at you.

“Tav.” He moves closer. “I've wanted you since the day we got locked in that room. You're all I think about. All I dream of. I've never felt…”

He trails off. You watch the rise and fall of his chest, strained and uncertain.

“I've never met anyone like you,” he says finally.

You understand his struggle. You, too, cannot explain what it is between you. What you feel for him.

“Neither have I. I don't usually do this.” 

His crow's feet crinkle. “That makes two of us. I don't make a habit of throwing myself at people tongue first.” 

For an instant, you are lost in the memory of his tongue. He clears his throat. You tear your eyes away, fixing on the creases of your tunic. 

The orb remains, mercifully, faint.

When you look up again, he is studying you. He scratches at his beard, still damp from your earlier exertions. You can still taste him, and you still want more.

“I’ve always considered myself a disciplined man.” He grimaces. “Surprising, I know, because I just can't control myself around you. Even the threat of imminent destruction couldn’t keep me away.”

You swallow. This is new territory for you, too. You have never felt so desired, and you have never desired someone more. You cannot make sense of it.

“You should have told me,” you manage. “If I had known this was hurting you…”

“I think I had more pressing priorities than talking.” He pauses, chuckles. “I never thought I'd say that.”

Despite the circumstances, you laugh. “You do love talking.”

“There are things I love more.”

Your core tingles as you linger over the swell of his lips. The orb flickers as his eyes hover over your parted mouth. You wonder if you should pull away. He does not.

“I wanted to do things properly. Charm you with dazzling displays of wit. Conjure a canvas to rival your beauty. Dance with you beneath the stars.” 

Is that sorrow in his voice? Regret? He frowns, and in the shadows of his face, you think you see shame.

“If things were different… if we were home… I would give you everything you deserve.” 

It is not quite shock you feel, but you cannot fathom it. When Gale had told you about his past, his greatest mistake and his fall from grace, you had wondered at the fairness of his self-judgment. It did not sit well with you, the crushing burden of the blame he carried, as though the sin was his alone. For you, that guilt had always jarred against the proud veneer Gale projected - the bluster of a wizard of considerable acclaim, a scholar of exceptional accomplishment.

Now, you see him so clearly. The passion that drives him, the gentleness that sets him apart. The conviction that he will always fall short. 

You reach forward to cup his cheek. His breath catches, a mirror of your heart. You have touched before, drawn together by the whirlwind of your yearning, a surging, panting need. But this is different. 

“You already have.” 

His eyes ebb with surprise, doubt, something like fear. There are things you wish to say, but you do not know how. They go beyond the language of your bodies, into the recesses within you that no one else has stirred. 

But still, you try.

“Being with you… It’s everything.” 

He is speechless for a moment. When he looks at you, you know he sees. He smiles.

And as he kisses you, you realise it is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

****

“So, let me get this straight.” Karlach leans forward. “All those nights in Gale's tent, and you still haven't ridden that wizard’s staff?”

You rub at your temples. You already regret those extra glasses of red. Wine has always made you loose lipped.

Astarion smirks. “Come now, Tav. That tent lights up like a signal flare every time you go in. You must be doing something.”

You glare at them pathetically. You know they will not let this go, no matter how mortified you are. No matter how much you dig your heels in.

“We can't,” you sigh. 

Astarion arches an eyebrow. “Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Gale does leave a lot to be desired. Though I’d assumed there'd be spells for that sort of thing. Enlarge, for one–”

“No!” you splutter. “For the love of – No! There's nothing wrong with Gale's–” 

You catch the grin Astarion shoots at Karlach. Karlach gapes at you, expectant.

“It's his orb, alright? Not his… anatomy. We can't because of his orb.”

Karlach's eyes widen. “Are you saying that if Gale nuts, his orb will explode?”

You wince. “That's the worry, yes.”

“Gale’s cock could bring about the apocalypse.” Astarion chortles. “Who would have thought.”

You give Astarion a shove. “It's not funny.”

“Of course it isn't!” Karlach looks genuinely distressed. “You poor things. I can hear you two going at it sometimes–”

“Like a pair of clumsy teenagers,” Astarion pushes in. “You’d have to be deaf not to hear everything, by the way.”

Karlach scratches her head. “Seriously though. What are you guys doing in there? If you can't wet that wand–”

“For gods’ sake!” 

Astarion snickers. “Are you finding all his special places and kissing them better? Is he putting that mage hand to good use? Whispering sweet nothings into your–”

Your face burns. “Just use your imagination!” 

“Poor Gale.” Karlach blows out a breath. “He must have the biggest, bluest balls in all of Faerun.”

“And you must have the most swollen–”

“Right!” You leap to your feet, lunging away from the campfire. “I'm done! I'm not discussing Gale's balls, or my–”

You crash into Gale as you turn. He catches you, alarm and confusion flitting across his face as you squeeze his hand. Sorry, you signal with your eyes as you retreat. I'll make it up to you later.

“What did I miss?” you hear Gale ask behind you. You cringe at the delight in Astarion's voice.

“Oh Gale.” He titters ominously. “I'm so glad you asked.” 

****

“Oh, I get it.”

You chuckle as he wraps his arms around you from behind. Everything feels and smells like Gale - every nook and cranny of his study, plush and warm, every chime of the well-worn piano beside you. The teasing dance of hands around your waist, the tickle of his hair against your neck. The familiar scent of sandalwood and scrolls, indistinguishable as fantasy or flesh. Your fingers hover over the bookshelf before you.

“This is some kind of elaborate courting ritual, isn't it? You seduce me with kisses and honeyed words–”

“I seduced you?” Gale barks out a laugh. “I seem to recall that you were the one who touched my–”

“You whisk me away to your wizard’s tower, ply me with mood music, and then–”

“Excuse me, but you willingly accepted my invitation. No whisking was involved–”

“And then–”

“I might also remind you that technically, we haven’t left the boundaries of my tent, given that this is an illusion, though admittedly, a masterful one–”

You jostle him. He nibbles at your earlobe, and you bat him away half-heartedly.

“And then, you show me your personal, and very extensive, collection of porn.”

Gale titters as you gesture towards a cluster of tomes in the upper left corner.

“A gentleman can never be too well-read.”

“Clearly not.” You crane your neck. “‘Beauty and the Beast with Two Backs’. ‘Longsword of Love’. ‘The Wand of Wonder.’”

“Oh, that's a good one. The sequel was a poor imitation, though. ‘The Tiefling's Horn.’ Disappointing.”

“What a shame.” You squint. “‘Two Wenches, One Goblet’. What's that about?”

Gale opens his mouth, then promptly closes it. 

“Wait. Maybe don't answer that.” 

You laugh as you delve further. You remember that Gale has conjured all of these books from memory. You have no doubt that he recalls their content in exquisite detail.

“I wasn't sure whether you'd misplaced some of these. ‘Exploring the Underdark.’ ‘How to Tend Your Garden.’ ‘Studies of the Kraken.’”

Gale huffs. “I'm offended you'd think my library would be anything but impeccably arranged.”

“Ah.” You turn to face him, nuzzling into his neck. "Shall I beg for your forgiveness?”

His hands wander down your spine, over the small of your back. A violet shimmer fills the space between you. You have learned which shades you should flinch from, and which you should welcome. You cannot help but feel Gale's arousal as your own, after all. To see it displayed so clearly - it drives you wild.

“Tav,” he murmurs into your hair. “You could take a first edition of ‘Etheril’s Enchiridion of Enchanting Easements’ and burn it in a ritualistic bonfire, and I’d forgive you.”

You brush your lips over his jawline, running your thumb over the arc of his collarbone. You feel him tremble against you. 

“So you're saying I have you wrapped around my little finger.”

“Wrapped?” He tuts. “Bound and double knotted. Triple knotted, even. If you had an inkling of a desire for me to jump, I'd catapult myself to the other side of the Chionthar.”

“So…” You bite your lip. “You’d do anything I asked?”

His eyes are misted, lips curled in a sideways smile. “Within reason. But yes. There's very little I wouldn't do for you.”

You tilt your mouth to his. He opens to you without hesitation. A soft moan escapes him as he presses you against the bookshelf, enfolding you in his lavender haze.

“I’d do the same,” you whisper, before you melt into each other.

****

You stare up at the peak of your tent, flickering in the candlelight. Your bedroll feels foreign, the ground beneath you impossibly hard. You kick away your blanket with a grunt, abandoning the hope of sleep.

Should you go to him? After Elminister’s departure, you had made your feelings on Mystra's charge - and Mystra herself - abundantly clear. When you had sat with Gale, watching the sun set with his hand in yours, he had been uncharacteristically quiet. You had known, without him asking, that he needed space.

He had not been at dinner - a haphazard assortment of beans and fish heads which you were too preoccupied to taste. When you returned from a wash in the river, you thought you glimpsed the curve of his back sliding into his tent. You have not seen him since.

You imagine Gale, tossing and turning, wondering how long he has left. Sifting through his memories for triumph, and finding only despair. Convinced that his life has no meaning outside of his death. Standing at a precipice, alone.

You lunge up, darting through the slit of your tent.

He stands outside, features shadowed in the empty night. There is a weariness in his stooped frame, an exhaustion that he cannot conceal. But when your eyes meet, his face glows with unmistakable joy. He reaches for your hand.

“Come with me.”

****

“This was going to be a surprise.” 

You marvel at the illusion around you. The bed of lush grass beneath your toes, adorned with a

fine spray of daisies. The lilting forest canopy, framed by a boundless azure canvas bejewelled with stars. The sky glimmers with the most vivid shades of turquoise you have ever seen. 

In awe, you follow Gale to a clearing, where a velvet rug awaits, soft and welcoming. A billowing bouquet of peonies rests beside a basket of peaches, two glasses and a bottle of Gulthmeran Reserve. All your favourites.

You are at a loss. 

“I've been trying to make it perfect, or as close to perfect I can get, in the circumstances. It's not quite finished, but…” 

He looks down, grimacing. 

“Well, there's no time like the present.”

You step forward, resting your hands on his chest. “This is incredible, Gale. It is perfect. Beyond perfect.”

He shakes his head. “I wish I could give you more. There's so much more I would give you, if only we had time.” 

His eyes are shining. You realise that he is holding back tears. You cup his face in your hands.

“You've given me more than I've ever dreamed of. More than I could ever imagine.”

He is silent for a moment. Through the storm of your emotions, you watch the quiver of his lip, the spasm of his brow. He gestures towards the rug, arrayed with all the gifts he has prepared for you. You sit beside him, caressing the petals of a scarlet peony, rolling a honey-ripe peach around in your palm. He smiles as he watches you, a smile that puts the stars to shame.

“All of this,” you breathe. “How did you know–”

“Tav.” He chuckles, mock-chiding. “You should know by now that I'm a keen observer and a meticulous scholar, especially when you're the subject matter.”

You are not sure why you suddenly feel shy. You fiddle with his collar, the chestnut curls around his neck. He draws you closer, his legs bracketing you, the tip of his nose tingling over yours. 

“No one has ever done anything like this for me.” 

It is difficult for you to understand it. The things Gale has done, the feelings he has professed. You struggle to explain the magnitude of them all. The miracle of him.

“Then I'll do everything in my power to make up for their shortcomings.”

You stare at him for a long time. Without warning, a tear slides down your cheek. He catches it with his thumb, stilled by the admission, the implication. Your hands find his as he plants a slow, searing kiss on your forehead. In his touch, there is the warmth of home. 

“Do you remember when you said you'd do anything I asked you?” 

“Of course.” He nods. “I said what I meant.”

You know it is a risk. You know the consequences of what you are about to say. But you cannot stay silent, not after all you have been through together. Not after all you have discovered about the man he is, everything he has become to you. You cannot abide it.

“What if I asked you to trust me? To trust that we can find another way?” 

He hesitates. The lines on his face deepen, his eyes darkening.

“You don't have to die, Gale. We can fight the Absolute together.”

He jerks his head. “Tav…”

You clasp his hands against your heart. “I'm asking you to trust me. Someone who knows you. Someone who… cares deeply for you. You don't deserve this. You don't need her forgiveness. You don't have to die.”

“Tav.” His chest heaves. “What you're asking…”

“I'm asking you to live.” 

It comes out as a plea, though you had not meant it as such. It is your beating heart, held out before him - the truth laid bare, without reservation or fear. You cannot run from it any longer.

“I love you, Gale.”

The words are everything, yet not enough. Perhaps love cannot capture the hunger you feel for him, frantic and insatiable, the desperate ache that possesses you whenever he is near. The candle he has lit inside you, illuminating the world with a wonder you have never known. A steady tide, washing over everything within and around you, making all things new.

A thousand feelings stream across his features as a comet soars through the sky. And as he surges forward, clutching you against him like a lifeline, you recognise the promise that is sealed between your skin.

“I love you too.”

His tongue is tender at first, almost reverent as it slides against yours. Your mouths move slowly, savouring each other like the richest banquet, the finest wine. But when his hands roam under your robe to palm your breasts, when your fingers weave under his waistband to grasp his need, all is lost.

You had imagined this, the minute Elminster calmed the orb. The implications had been immediately clear to you. But all that had fallen to the wayside in the face of Gale's suffering and grief. Now, as Gale’s chest flares to the rhythm of his juddering breaths, you are unleashed. 

Suddenly, all you want is his skin on yours. He tears your robe off with a ferocity that makes you whimper. You wrench his tunic off, shoving his breeches and briefs down in a frenzy. He rolls his tongue around your nipple, sucking it roughly into his mouth. As you arch into him, you tighten your grip around his shaft. He gasps, digging into your ass as you begin to pump.

“Wait,” you think you hear. But he is lapping wet whirls on your areola, parting your soaked panties to find your fire. You can feel the veins twitching on his girth as his fingers flutter into your cleft. You grind into his hand with a whine. 

When he draws back abruptly, your first instinct is to check the orb. Before, that indigo blaze would have been a warning. But Gale's eyes are wide with desire, not clenched with pain.

With a low murmur, he flicks his wrist. A crackle of blue thread bends in the air. He rises, lifting you up into his arms. 

“A gesture towards your comfort.” 

You gape at the four poster bed that has appeared behind you, its violet canopy and silk sheets. You look back at Gale, incredulous. 

“Are you telling me that all this time, you've had this in your back pocket, and we've been messing around in your bedroll?” 

Gale dips his head, half amused, half sheepish. His hands meander down your curves, distracted, insistent. You lean into his touch.

“Maintaining an illusion like this requires concentration. Concentration I was devoting to making sure the orb didn't take out a small city every time you and I were having a…particularly heated interchange.”

“I see.” 

You run your fingers over the scar of the orb, sunken into Gale's skin. It pulses, cold as metal in winter. Tentatively, you bend down to dart your tongue over its edges, lingering over the bruise in its centre. You can taste the static as Gale sucks in a breath.

“And you won't have a problem maintaining concentration now?” 

His voice is strained, but his eyes glint. “I won't now.”

You gasp as he pulls you onto the bed, his cock stiff against your belly as you straddle him. You wet your lips as you skim his beaded head with your thumb. His head falls between your breasts as he shivers violently against you.

“That remains to be seen.”

When you slide off his lap, he makes a muffled sound, reaching for you. You hold his gaze as you roll his briefs and breeches down and off, caressing the exquisite muscles of his thighs, the arcs of his strong calves. As you settle between his legs, the smell of his sweat and arousal fills your senses, heady as a drug. Gale tenses in anticipation as you look up, his length twitching against your cheek. 

He swallows.

You plunge his cock into your mouth. His back bows as he bites back a whine, the bed quaking beneath you. He is hard, so hard, and the warm silk of his shaft glides against your tongue like butter. You ache with a throbbing, swelling fire at the slick sounds of him sliding in and out of you, stretching you wide as you take him deeper and deeper. You want nothing more than to gorge yourself on him.

“Gods above…Tav… Gods…”

You are wild with the sounds of Gale's pleasure as he writhes to the rhythm of your mouth. You move faster, firmer, hollowing your cheeks as you suck on his girth. Spit spills down your chin and neck, and you keen as his cock thrusts against the back of your throat. You can feel the bud of your desire thrumming against your folds, bursting for release. 

“Gods, you're incredible…that feels incredible…Tav…. ”

Arousal trickles down your thigh as you hum in approval. He is surging, impossibly stiff against your flurrying tongue. Tears prickle at your eyes as you continue to pump, losing yourself to his pleasure. 

“Tav.” He clutches for you, frantic. 

The tightness of his grip stills you. You slow for an instant to look at him. His brow is twisted, his hair mussed and cheeks flushed. The orb pulses like a heartbeat. A sheen of sweat ripples on his abdomen, glittering on the damp down of his skin. His beauty is maddening. Dizzying.

He springs up, pinning you beneath him. Your eyes roll back at the force of his weight grinding down into you, the stark demand of him. His hair is a tousled curtain around your faces, his chest rubbing against your nipples as you pant. 

“Did you not like it?” Your hips cant up, desperate for more of him. 

“I loved it. Too much, in fact,” he rasps. “I didn't want this evening to come to a premature end.”

You can feel his cock, steely and determined as it nestles into you. Your flesh burns in every place he touches. His musk is a haze, blurring every boundary, making you one. You are struggling to think, to speak.

“How considerate,” you manage.

“I'm nothing if not thoughtful.” 

He begins at your neck – that secret nook just below your ear. A discovery he had made on one of the first nights, when you had come undone beneath his hungry mouth, a mewling mass of nerves. He has remembered ever since. 

He rolls his tongue across your skin, teasing it between his plush lips. You shiver as he licks a tantalising trail of kisses down your collarbone, between your breasts, around your navel. He hums as he peels off your panties, drenched with your arousal. Your legs quiver as he spreads you wide, firm fingers edging into the sensitive flesh of your thighs. You whine at the wet sound of your folds opening to him, the hot puffs of his words over your bulging clit.

“You have no idea how much I've wanted to do this.” His voice is low and hoarse. Ravenous.

“I have some idea.”

You can barely breathe. The smirk on his lips sends a shudder through you.

“You have no idea.”

You let out a needy cry as he drags his tongue through your folds. He tastes you slowly, painstakingly, savouring every inch and corner of you. With every messy swipe, every moan that spurts from him, your back arches, your thighs lifting higher as Gale pushes into you, devouring you like a man starved.

“Gods,” he murmurs, and you think you might explode at the flick of his tongue on your clit. “You taste like heaven.”

You have no words, only a whimper. You will not last. Every fibre of your being condenses into the throbbing ache under his tongue. As he begins to draw small, swift circles around your fire, sparks spasm up your spine, spreading to the tips of your fingers and toes. His groans vibrate against your swollen centre, his nails digging into your thighs. His beard chafes against your flesh with a friction that gathers like a flaming coil inside you. You clench at the sheets, your toes curling with mounting ecstasy.

“Gale…Gods… Gale, I’m going to–”

He hums again. Even in the midst of your unravelling, you can hear his appreciation, his pride at having uncovered another mystery, another key to your undoing. His eager, plump lips close around your desire, his tongue flat and snug against you. He sucks at your clit with a loud, slapping sound, and you throw your head back as your last nerve snaps.

Blinding pleasure jolts through you in waves, shattering your every sense and thought. Incoherent sounds tumble out of you, your hips jerking frenetically as Gale continues to feast. He does not stop, even as you keen and bend beneath him, even as your climax erupts from you in bursts of sweet release. You have never come so quickly or so hard.

Overwhelmed by sensation, frenzied from it, you twitch and flinch, thighs clamping around his head  as he holds you down. You cannot take any more. As you lurch up onto your elbows, his eyes meet yours, fully dilated, drunk with bliss. You reach for him helplessly. 

“Gale,” you plead. “Come here. Please.”

He lingers, lapping up your delight in long, sloppy stripes, greedy for every last drop of you. When he rises, you can see streaks of your slickness glistening on his beard and chin. You tremble as he licks his lips. 

You lunge for him, wild with want. Your mouths meet again in their furious dance, your taste thick on his tongue. You are closer than you have ever been, your bodies flush against each other, the sweat on his skin mingling with your own. He presses your arms down above your head, his fingers entwining with yours as you groan into each other. 

“I need you.” Your hips roll against his, his cock jostling against your folds. It is anguish, your yearning to be filled by him, to be eaten whole. “I need you inside me. Please.”

You do not need to ask twice. You can feel the pounding of Gale’s heart, the billow of lust in his dark eyes. There is no more reserve, no trace of deliberation. When your legs part to welcome him, he makes a sound you have never heard before, all gentleness lost in the urge to consume you. He notches himself at your entrance, coating himself with your slick. With one rough thrust, he sheathes himself inside you, and you almost scream from the delicious drag of his cock against your aching walls.

“Gods,” he pants. “Tav…Gods… you feel…Tav….”

Your calves clench around his waist as he plunges into you, an erratic, gasping rhythm of wet, slapping skin. You flutter around his girth as he drives into you again and again, splitting you open then filling you to bursting. He releases your hands to cup your cheek, crushing his forehead against yours, and you cannot catch the words that stream from his lips, only his raw and wanton need. Your fingers fist into his tangled waves as you pull him closer. 

“Gale.” Your entire being quakes beneath him, for him. “I love you.”

His brow steeples as he clasps your face, eyes shimmering with awe and exertion. He kisses you like it is his last night alive, taking what is left of your breath away.  The world around you swirls into a purple storm as he pumps faster and faster, hips snapping with dizzying force. Your head rolls back, your eyes shuttering in rapture as he thrusts into the deepest parts of you over and over again. 

“Tav.” His thumb pushes into your moaning mouth. “Look at me.”

You obey. As your tongue twists around his questing finger, you look at him with all the love and longing within you, every inch of you that cannot get enough of him. His eyes are bright as summer earth, his lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. You can feel the tremors through his muscles, the convulsions of his gut, as he nears the peak of his climax. 

“I love you,” he whispers.

The orb flashes like an eruption of stars, the bed flickering in a chaos of colours. For an instant, you are floating in a lavender sea, drifting in the abyss of the night. With a final, keening stroke, he spills himself inside you. You whimper against each other, writhing through the aftershocks, a convulsion of shared breath and flesh. And as you lie on the bed he has made for you, with his arms around you and his warmth inside you, you wonder how you will ever part from him again.

****

You are curled on his chest, tracing the peaks and valleys of his body, studying the fine dust of hair over his flushed skin. His touch roams, tender and earnest, mapping the topography of your being, every dip and dune of your drowsy, sated flesh. Cocooned in him, cloaked in a passion that goes far beyond need, you feel a peace you have never felt before. You know, in an inexplicable way, that he feels it too.

He huffs, that quiet laugh you have come to love so much. You draw back to look at him. 

“What?”

He smiles, rubbing his nose against yours.  “Nothing. Just thinking. Marvelling, really.”

His lips graze your forehead as he pulls you close again. You nestle into him with a contented hum.

“At what?”

He chuckles, drawing languid circles over your hip bone, the curves of your thigh, the dimples on your back. 

“The miracle of serendipity that brought you into my life. What fortune, what divine calculus, what wondrous confluence of circumstances…”

You pause, drinking in the joy that radiates in every lilt of his speech, every dance of his features. The love that burns in every part of him, pure as sunlight, fierce as life.

“A perfect storm.”

Gale stares at you. The grin that bursts on his face thrums with pride, a glee that would be ridiculous were it not so endearing. You laugh through the sprinkling of kisses that he peppers all over your face, a whirlwind of affection that floods your heart. 

“My love,” he sighs, as his lips find yours. “I couldn't have said it better.”

********

A/N: Not wanting to blue-ball everyone after 'A Generous Portion', I decided to write a conclusion to this saga - but what I didn't realise was that I was going to end up rewriting the whole of Gale's romance in Act 1 and Act 2...

This is what I imagine happened if instead of the Weave scene, Gale and Tav were locked in a room together.

I tried to stay true to the canon as much as I could, with the orb, call backs, Elminster's visit and such. Most of all I wanted to capture a romance with Gale that begins with an explosion of passion / physical attraction, and then deepens into love.

I hope you enjoyed it! I am forever grateful for your support, and as always, would love to hear your thoughts and comments <3

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