#by the end of the month the rough of this should be done

[waywardchaos3]

Tomura Shigaraki Prompt: "We'll Face This Together."

GIF by sattosugu GIF by shiruba-tsuki

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x gn!reader

Prompt: "We'll face this together."

WC: 753

Main Masterlist

A/N - This is my first ever x reader story, so I hope you all enjoy it!!!

Any and all feedback is appreciated!

You pace around the room anxiously as you wait for Dr. Garaki with Tomura so that he can start transferring All For One's power of multiple quicks and the ability to take and give quirks to and from other people and become his successor.

From your peripheral vision, as you pace around the room, you can tell that Tomura's getting agitated with you pacing around like you are. For someone who's spent most of his life alone, he's surprisingly attuned to your mood and emotions.

You hear Tomura let out an impatient huff before getting up from the chair he had been sitting in, grabbing your hand, stopping you from pacing.

"Alright, that's enough." He growls gently before grabbing your chin with his hand, making you meet his eyes. "Stop worrying, idiot; it'll be fine." He continues, his red eyes staring intently into your (e/c) ones.

You want to believe what he's saying to you, that everything will be fine when he receives All For One's power. You do, but it's so hard for you to accept his words as the truth when, right now, things feel far from being okay.

During the battle against the Meta Liberation Army, you and the other league members got separated, but luckily, Tomura beat Re Destro. Now, the Paranormal Liberation Front is in the process of making a move against hero society.

Before you can move against the heroes, Tomura has to be at full power, and from what Dr. Garaki has told the two of you, that'll take about six months.

"Bu-but-" you stammer, only to get cut off by Tomura as he rolls his eyes at you. "But nothing, there's nothing that you should be worried about."

He's got a point.

If anyone should be having a panic attack in this situation, it would be him, and yet, here you are, worrying to the point where you're almost hyperventilating.

"Look at me, (Y/N)." he orders, his voice low and serious.

You obey his command and look up at him again, your (e/c) eyes meeting his red ones again.

"It'll be fine," he says, staring down at you intently, unblinking.

"But, Tomura, what if-"

He immediately shakes his head at you. "Nothing will happen."

His thumb grazes against your cheek gently, which is very unlike him as he isn't one to show affection.

"We'll face this together. We haven't lost yet, alright?"

You continue staring into his eyes for another moment before nodding your head in reply. "Okay..." you breathe out gently.

Tomura seems satisfied with your answer as the corner of his mouth curves up into a wry smile before he leans in, placing a reassuring kiss against your quivering lips.

Him kissing you, causing you to lean into him, the feeling of his rough lips against your own giving you more comfort than his words had.

When you pull away after a moment, he tugs you into his chest, letting you nuzzle your head there.

"Okay," you mutter again, "together."

Four long months have passed, and the heroes have found out about your plans.

You have a hunch as to how they found out, which would've been because Hawks wanted to know everything about the plan and Tomura since Dabi had brought him forward as a potential member of the League.

Looks like you were right not to trust him, much like everyone else.

He's a traitor, and you hope that he rots in hell.

It's too bad you can't go after Hawks and get the job done. You're currently fighting the heroes as they come into the Gunga Mountain Villa, trying to capture you.

If only Tomura were ready to wake up, he could destroy the heroes and end this with just one attack.

Unfortunately, according to Dr. Garaki, he still has two months to go before he can leave the chamber.

You grunt as you dodge another blow from the hero you're fighting, just wanting to find Toga and the others so that you all can get out of here and think of a way to get back at the heroes for doing this.

Before you can deliver the final blow, the ground beneath your feet starts to rumble, causing you to stumble.

"What the-?" you start questioning only to see Gigantomachia emerge underneath the villa.

You gasp, knowing that Machia waking up means one thing: Tomura is awake!

Knowing this, a smile comes to your face. "Tomura. He's awake."

I know the ending isn't exactly like what happens in the anime, but I can always write a better and longer story that is actually based on those events if you guys would like me to!

Anyway, I'll see you all for the next one!

[aparticularbandit]

also finished the outline, and it does look like thirty-five chapters + prologue (already posted) + epilogue.

i'm in chapter thirty-three, so i have. 33-35 + epilogue left.

...and the five remnants chapters i haven't written yet, but i think i'm going to try and write those in one swoop probably next week? i have a general idea what those maintain, and i don't expect izuru to show up until maybe the second fic (i haven't decided yet because i want to see him in dr3 before i decide what to do with him).

so nine chapters total left to write.

chapters are usually 2-3k.

that's another 18-27k.

except that the first remnants chapter is relatively short in comparison with the other chapters and i expect the others to follow suit - so those should be between 1-2k. so that's 5-10k + 8-12k.

except again that the prologue was shorter, too, and i suspect the epilogue will follow that, too, so i'd put that one closer to 1-2k and not quite 3k.

which is 6-12k + 6-9k. so 12-21k. roughly.

right now i'm at a little over 67k, which means 79k at the lowest end (i'd round up for 80k) and 94k at the highest end (and i'd round up for 95k).

so this thing will likely end up anywhere from 80k-95k.

and there's a second fic.

i'm tired. XD

[lightbulb-warning]

this is getting ridiculous there's so much stuff i wanna draw i need to clone myself immediately

[rubberduckyrye]

I keep thinking about how writing 3k words every day for me might actually be feasible

Write 1k after each meal

1k three times a day

I chew through words so fast so I only need about 30 minutes to write 1k?

It's not hard.... I could easily do it!!!

And that's without my meds--I was told my meds are safe to take but I did feel a racing heart issue so I want to switch to a lower dose or a more mild medicine tbh.

Still!

I'm trying to plan this out. Ehe.

[lilowoof]

I'm so fucking excited to get all this outstanding work done, and for tax season to fuck off. I cannot wait to have more time to play games with pals, go out with friends whom I haven't seen in a few months....go to some random meetups to meet new ppl and create new connections (and perhaps snag me a new person wink wonk LMAO).

And just...have more time to live. To stop feeling as lonely as I am feeling rn. CAUSE HOO BOY, it's been hitting me hard. And I can't do too much about it CAUSE of the deadlines I need to meet!

[ireneispunk]

Duty

Jacaerys Velaryon x female reader smut

After a rough start to your marriage, whispers from the palace cause you and your betrothed to start what you should have done months ago; produce an heir.

w.c: 1487

c.w: SMUT 18+, NO use of Y/N, not exactly enemies but y'all beefing, hate sex (if you squint, but more like dislike sex and its more just sass idfk), mention of pregnancy, breeding kink, afab reader, p in v sex, fingering, overstimulation, pls let me know if i've missed any

a.n: so i recently watched the queen charlotte bridgerton spin off and i absolutely loved it, this is very inspired by charlotte and george's earlier dynamic tee hee.

Four months and 3 days. That is how long it has been since your wedding, and how long you have loathed your husband. The two of you were not exactly close before your betrothal on account of the rapidness of it but the tensions that spread between parts of his family did not help. You both seem to fight every conversation you had thereafter, so it became easier to avoid each other. That was until around 3 months into your betrothal that questions of when you would need your dresses altering had you worried. You were supposed to making heirs but you both exploded whilst in the same room as each other.  You’d visited the prince in his separate room and communicated the issue, he was reading by the fire. You played with your fingers in your hands as he eyed the flaw, thinking intently. He placed his book face down on the table as he petted the bench beside him. You hesitated for a moment, before sitting next to him. “Once a week, we will fulfil our, uh, duty to try and produce an heir. Once you are with child we will stop.” You thought for a moment, before nodding. You couldn’t help but feel your heart sink. This was not what you had wished for in your marriage. Jacaerys was a painfully handsome man, dark curls that framed he chiselled features.

“It is the end of the week today, your grace.” You spoke, not fully considering the implications of the statement. But the quicker your belly was full the better.

He turned to you, hesitated for a moment before moving closer to you and pulled you onto his lap. You were surprised by the sudden closeness of someone, let alone your husband. He looked up from beneath you with a glimmer of what he had on your wedding night, without the naïve hope. His hands slid up from your hips to the bust of your dress, he looked into your eyes before giving the bodice of your dress a quick tug down allowing your breast to spill out. You gasped as his hands cupped over your breasts, massaging them before running a thumb over your nipple. You brought your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt a warmth spread over your body. You didn’t dare look him in the eye, keeping your eyes shut or trained on the ceiling. You felt as one hand left your breast and hike up your dress further up your hips. He sighed to himself slightly, at the sight of your exposed cunt. He could not believe his luck the first time he had saw you. You were quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and unfortunately that did not change the more you both disliked each other. If anything, it grew. Seeing you from across the room at formal engagements, gluing to his side when you needed to seem like the happy couple. It made the frustrations between the two of you even more palpable over the past few months, given the lack of relief. You opened your eyes to see his dark eyes looking up at you. He brought his two first fingers up to your lips, “Open.” His soft tone contradicted the demand and look upon his face. His fingers slid into your mouth, gliding across your tongue as you closed your lips around them. Out of sheer lust you grinded your hips against him, needing to feel some release and gaining small jolt at the feeling of your cunt rubbing against his clothed cock. His free hand shot to your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He removed his fingers from your mouth, admiring his spit covered fingers for a moment before they reached between your thighs and lightly grazed across your clit. You jolted, leaning forward to grip the bench behind him.

You could not stop the moan that escaped your mouth as his fingers slowly ran circles across your clit. He smirked as the noises that fell from your lips, knowing how much you couldn’t bare to be around him but fell apart in his arms was a satisfying feeling.  “I did not know you were so needy, dear wife.” The honorific felt like a pin prick. Insincere and laced with sarcasm.

Despite the tightening growing in your stomach, you could not let him have the final word as usual. “You hadn’t been paying close enough attention, your grace.” A flash of frustration flashed upon his face as his hand moved to grip your hair and fingers plunged inside of you. A gasp left you as his fingers thrusted deep inside of your cunt, you had gone from strolling towards an orgasm to being thrown at it. The tips of his fingers curled slightly, deliciously massaging that spot inside your pussy that drove you wild. You jaw fell open, eyes going wide at the loss of contact when he removed his fingers from you. You went to protest before seeing his cock in his hands, brows furrowed as he stroked the length.

You couldn’t hold off any longer before you took a hold of his wrists and pushed his hands away to his sides. You took his cock into your hand giving it a few pumps, watching an expression of lust spread across his face. You leaned over slightly, letting a ball of spit leave your lips and watch as it slid down his cock. He hissed, returning his hands to your hips pulling you closer to him. You took the hint, angling his cock towards your pussy, rubbing the tip over your clit for your own pleasure a few times, before lining him up and sliding down slowly, a large groan left his lips as be bottomed out inside of you. You had forgotten just how big his cock was, and just how good it had felt filling you up. You began to raise your hips up and down, moans leaving your lips as you did. You worked at a steady pace but after being accustomed to his hands began to push up and down with the movements of your hips moving you faster. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders as he pounded into you, no matter how much your stifled your moans, you gave him the satisfaction of them loudly leaving your lips. His hand reached up to yours, removing it from his shoulders and moving your fingers between your legs. You immediately got his instruction, fingers latching onto your clit. You worked tight circles into it as you got filled over and over with Jacaerys’ cock. A familiar tightness returned to your stomach as your head dropped back and numerous illicit words left your lips. Recognising your peak, he pulled you forward by your thighs, almost pressing your bodies against each other as he quickened his pace. Your orgasm cascaded over you, feeling your pussy tighten around Jacaerys’ cock and your body buzz from the overstimulation. You rode out your high atop of him, watching as his eyes screwed shut and his thrusts became sloppier.

You took the opportunity to return your knees to the bench either side of him and bob your hips up and down as fast as you could. His fingers reached the lip of the bench gripping it until his knuckles turned white. “Mmm, my grace,” You moaned out. His eyes shot open, his heart pounding at your remark. “Please fill me with your seed.” You pleaded and moaned, half doing it for a reaction, half because it felt too good. His jaw hung open in shock for a split second before he sputtered a moan from his lips, hips snapping into yours. You felt satisfied as a warmth filled your pussy. Your hips moved slightly, slowly thrusting his cock inside of you still. His hand shot to your hip, mumbling something, before you placed your hand flat across his chest. You bobbed a few more times on his cock, being sure to be as full as possible with his cum. You smirked to yourself seeing his head throne back, lip quivering, veins prominent in his hands gripping your waist, sweaty curls sticking to his neck. You slowly raised yourself off of his cock, standing to your feet and trying to mask your wobbliness as adjusting your dress.

You stole a glance his way, admiring his beauty before he spoke and ruined it. He panted through his mouth, arms outstretched over the sides of the bench. You smirked to yourself, admiring how he too had crumbled for you. The opening of his doorhandle caused him to call your name from behind you. You glanced at him and smiled. “Goodnight your grace, see you in seven eves’.” He opened his mouth to response, but you had already shut the door behind you. You hoped it would be sooner before he fucked you again.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse, subjugation, some type of sexism, bad politics, chemically induced heat? institutionalized reader, doctors, wack rehabilitation program, ish brainwashing

fem reader

You’d been difficult to tame. Or, he just didn’t have the time to do it properly—too busy at work and too tired when coming home. He’d wanted a sweet Omega, one who did house chores when he was away and had dinner ready for him when he got off.

You’d looked real sweet at the auction—a perfectly beautiful Omega. You weren’t cheap either—everyone had made their bids, but he’d been the one to walk away with the prize in the end. He can’t say he regrets it—he still has a fondness for you even though you’re not what he’d thought he’d purchased.

You just need some behavioral correcting. And so, he put you in an Omega institution.

It had been recommended to him. It’s not so uncommon, he later found out while reading up on the place. Auctioned Omegas tend to end up a little rough around the edges—here, at the institution, they’ll smooth those edges right out.

Sadly, there’s been a rise in unstable Omegas as of late—he reads on their website. It’s a misguided revolution taking place in several auction homes that’s to blame for it—circling modern ideas of liberation, equality, andindependence. It all stems from a place of fear, the website explains in detail—Omegas seek to stand on their own in the world. Cooped up in auction homes, they fear they’ll never see the outside without a mate—and as the years dwindle on and their prospects become slimmer, they start fantasizing about doing it on their own.

He feels sorry for you while reading it. Your attitude makes more sense now, knowing you’ve been fed a bunch of deluded nonsense. He can’t blame you for getting swept up in it—you’re a little younger than him, after all. But the silly idea of a lone Omega isn’t just laughable but dangerous. It was best of him to make sure any such notions were quashed—for your own good—before you end up doing something you might regret. 

And it seemed this place was the place to do it. In fact, many of his fellow Alphas had done the same, and they’d all sung this particular institution’s praises.

Oh, but it’s been hard. You wouldn’t talk to him much or even keep him in good company at home, but still, he misses your presence. The house seems so empty without your little everyday spats to keep him on his toes.

You’ve been away for a whole month now, and he hasn’t even been allowed to visit, not once. It would ruin the process, he was told. But he’s been assured that the caretakers there have been making great progress with you. He should be able to come pick you up as soon as the start of next week.

He remembers having been skeptical about leaving you here as he walks to announce himself at the help desk. The facility is pristine and sterile—very impersonal, just like any other hospital. He wonders if you’ve been scared. After all, it’s most likely your skittish nature that makes you so hostile, joined with misgivings making you confused. It can’t be easy. He hopes the doctors here have helped you sort things out. Maybe you won’t be so frustrated all the time.

He was led to a private room where he could complete some paperwork for your release while waiting for your discharge. He made quick work of it. A door opens, and your doctor comes through, and then, following right behind him, there’s you—his pretty little Omega.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you quite so subdued—not even when you’d been caged at the auction, there’d still been some fight to your spirit. Now, not so much—taking quiet and careful steps with your head hung, looking at your slipper-clad feet.

You pick your face up when you recognize the scent, and then you look at him like you’ve just seen a ghost. Wide-eyed and lock-jawed—your breathing picks up rapidly, and his name drops from your lips like a pained whimper, followed by a sudden burst of tears and a rush toward him. “You came back—” 

You’re on him before he has the time to blink—pressed against him tightly, skin-to-skin and heart-to-heart, with your face buried in the grove of his neck. Your claws are slightly drawn, but in no effort to hurt him—rather, to cling to him. It’s not any normal hug—not that you’d ever given him one before—but even so, you’re swaddledaround his neck with your legs crossed at his back.

He’s taken aback by the behavior—it isn’t like you at all. He remembers your aversion to his touch, how you’d regard him like a plague, snarling each time he’d get too close. This was beyond new.

But you leave him no opening to comment either, too busy rambling in meek little whispers pressed into his skin, “Thank you, thank you, thank you—I knew you’d come back—knew you hadn’t forgotten about me. I’m sorry I was being difficult, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’ve forgiven me, right? You’ll take me home now, right? Please—”

He’d never been in a position to soothe you before—you’d never wanted it. He doesn’t know what else to do but smooth a hand over your hunched and shuddering back, shushing you like he’d seen mothers do with their sobbing children. You didn’t look much different right now.

“Yeah… we’re going home,” he assures you. 

You hug him a little tighter as a sob wreaks through you.

This isn’t exactly what he prepared himself for. He thought you’d be... well, he doesn’t really know... nicer?Perhaps. Agreeable. Not so violent. But not this—this broken little ball of shivering sniffles holding onto him as if the world was about to end.

He swallows thickly, then looks at your doctor—he doesn’t seem surprised. In fact, he seems utterly unfazed.

It makes him wonder, a little warily, “What have you done with her?”

The doctor seems more than happy to explain—it’s only customary, after all. He’d paid a lot to have you rehabilitated here.

“Each omega requires special treatment suited to them,” the doctor explains. “Yours was particularly unruly.”

You flinch. He feels your claws dig deeper, but they’re too blunt to draw blood and too weak to hurt anyway. But even so, your sentiments are more than clear—you fear this doctor with your entire being.

“We’ve found that in the case of hostile Omegas, the most effective way to correct their behavior is to keep them isolated and let their own instincts remind them of what they need,” the doctor continues. “Of course, we’ve taken protective measures to ensure she wouldn’t harm herself in said isolation and have fed her accordingly at scheduled times every day.” He smiles. “We can assure you she’s been perfectly safe in the pillow room.”

He lifts the silver suitcase he’d been holding, props it up, and pops the lid, revealing a row of ten syringes—a hot pink fluid within.

“This is our recommended medicine.”

You shudder even more, unrelenting in your grip around him—hanging on so tightly as if you fear someone would come and pry you off him at any moment.

“Give one to her if and when she acts up. More instructions come with the case—please read through them carefully.”

He eyes the syringes with furrowed brows, picking one up to inspect it further. They don’t look like anything he’s read about in the brochure or on the website—perhaps a brand new method for treating Omegas? This is a cutting-edge institution, after all.

He can’t guess what they must do to make you cower like that. The spit-spire he left here a month ago wouldn’t cry over a tiny needle.

“What are they?” he asks.

The doctor’s smile stretches. “Nothing dangerous. All natural hormone components.”

He’s not sure what that entails, and so he quirks a brow while laying the syringe back in its designated mold. “And what does that mean?”

The doctor clasps the case shut and hands it over to him while explaining plainly, “They induce heat.” 

He accepts the case before his ears have the chance to draw back at his words. Now that explains your sudden clinginess—why you’re so frigid.

The doctor adds, “Poor thing’s spent quite a few alone in the pillow room, so I’m sure she’ll be grateful to finally be by her mate’s side again.”

He’s speechless.

Spending heat alone, without any relief, is a form nothing short of torture. If he’d known that was what they were doing to you, he wouldn’t have sent you here in the first place. He very nearly chews the doctor out for using such barbaric methods but thinks better of it. If anything were to be done, it would be through a well-worded and filed complaint and a vow to never do business with them ever again.

Though, coming home with you by his side, still clinging to him… he can’t argue with the results. 

So he doesn’t complain. He just enjoys your new and improved wellness and promises never to use those injections on you himself. Yes, they’d forego their expiration date soon enough, dusting away in the back of his closet. He’d never ever put you through something so horrid. That’s his pledge as your mate.

Oh, but then... the honeymoon phase dissolves. And you return to your old habits of teeth and claws.

It’s never-ending barking with you all over again—you want to leave, you want to be alone, you don’t want him to touch you, you blame him for what you went through at the institution, you hate him for it, and you’ll never ever forgive him.

He doesn’t want to—he swears while holding the syringe to your thigh where he’s strapped you down in bed with ropes and knots—he doesn’t want to, he really doesn’t, but you leave him no choice when you act like a wild animal. 

The first time is always the hardest. But he doesn’t leave you alone in a room like they did at the institution—no, he helps you through it. It’s not torture this way. It’s just… well, what can he say? It’s just a little reminder to get you back on your good behavior.

You would rather stay here than get sent back to the pillow room, right?

It’s all too easy the second time around even though it shouldn’t have been. It was only a day of small uproars, nothing all that bad—refusing to greet him at the door, to make dinner, to fix his plate, to wash dishes, to come to bed. He’d allowed you days like that in the past, but this time, he’d felt himself gravitate towards his so-called last resort once again. 

Still, he’d felt a little guilty about it. 

It would be easier to refrain if it didn’t work like a charm.

Now, he goes and finds the briefcase at the drop of a hat. Say something snarky or look at him funny. Give him any opportunity, and he’ll abuse it—even things you don’t even mean to do, like burning the food, shrinking his clothes in the wash, or forgetting to make the bed in the morning. He’s on you with the syringe deep in your flesh before you can even mouth the words “I’m sorry—”

You’re limp and sweat-drenched after a few hours. He spoons you as the spasms continuously ricochet through you—his spent leaking down your thighs. Even after several rounds, the hormones are still brewing up a bad storm within your gut, thundering in your heart as its lightning zips along your limbs. Your head is a rainy cloud—heavy and full yet soft like cotton.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—it was an accident—” you mumble between labored breaths, not entirely sure what error you’d made this time, shivering against his warm chest as he cups your breast in one big hand and your swollen cunt in the other.

“I know, I know it was, baby,” he coos. “But you need to be more mindful—can’t be making so many mistakes all the time.” His lips brush your skin as he purrs, placing small pecks against your cheek and neck. “How can I trust you with my pups if you’re gonna be such a scatterbrain, hm?”

The mention of pups makes something roar more ferociously in your underbelly, and you whimper meekly in return. “I’m sorry—I’ll do better.”

“Good. I’m sure you’ll get there, sweetie.”

The storm within crackles, rumbling with a deepening hunger. Even though you feel battle-worn and ever ready for the sweet escape of sleep, there’s something even needier and heedless that makes your body feel all but set ablaze.

You’ve cum so many times already, but it’s still not enough—it’s never enough. It takes everything in you to make sense of his words—to act civil even when all you want is to jump his bones—make him fuck you until your fever breaks, then allow you rest.

But act in any way out of turn, and he’ll only drag this out. Be sweet, you remind yourself—sugar, syrup, honeycomb—sweet and soft like velvet—no teeth or claws or growling. No matter what, don’t let the animal out of the cage.

“No matter how many lessons it’ll take…” he murmurs. “I’m here to help.”

“Thank you—” you wince while rubbing your thighs together—grinding against his hand in desperation. “Can you… can we—”

He chuckles fondly, feeling you rub your ass back against his crotch wantingly. “Oh? Another round so soon?” 

You bite your lip at his teasing. Far beyond proud to not be begging, “Yes, please—pretty, pretty please—”

The sweet warble in your voice is so pitiful and cute—he can’t help the smile it brings him. “Alright, honey,” he hums while shifting, getting up with a hearty sigh, then leaning over you to give your pleading little pout a kiss. He feeds you his next words with a grin on his face, “Let’s see about that needy pussy of yours.”

He spreads and shimmies himself between your aching thighs, nice and snug against the weeping little thing between them—looking down at you with heavy-lidded eyes and a smug smile that makes you feel like the most hopeless little Omega in the world.

He places another kiss upon your forehead—dwarfing your hand in his big one, braiding your fingers together while the other carries his meaty cock, holding it steady up to your fluttering and glossy slit. 

The size never fails to make you squirm as you look down at it—wondering why you crave it so badly when it only serves to make your body twist and scream from the stretch it gives you.

 “Don’t worry, sweetie,” he soothes the tiny cry that cracks from your throat once he starts easing the length inside the snug comforts of your walls. “Your Alpha’s here to make it all better.”

♡ BNHA – old man Bakugou, Deku, Kirishima, Enji ♡ JJK – Nanami, Geto, Kusakabe ♡ HQ – Daichi, Ushijima ♡ AOT – Erwin

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[onlymingyus]

Beautiful Liar

pairing; kim mingyu x f!reader

genre; smut (minor dni), toxic, angst, dark content, fluff

summary; Kim Mingyu's life has always been complicated, but you just add another layer. At least he is a beautiful liar.

dark content/content warnings; mafia au, murder, guns (used/sold/bought), cops, gun dealer!mingyu, mafia boss!jun (shut up), second in command/drug dealer!minghao, lawyer!wonwoo, blood, fighting/beating, drugs mentioned, smoking (cigarettes), alcohol, alludes to alcoholism, depression/anxiety, toxic relationships, commitment issues -- best friends sister to lover, bosses sister to lover, jun's sister!reader, soonyoung, dino (chan), vernon as side characters, names eunseok and haneul used (have no connection to riize and kiof), crying, food and drink as always, mentions being sick, doctor!reader, medical terminology and medical procedure/wound described -- as always i'm certain i have missed something. if there is anything glaring send me an ask.

smut warnings; dom!mingyu, mean dom!mingyu, brat!reader, unprotected sex, rough sex, pulling out, creampie, cum on skin, cum play, cumming untouched, cumming in pants, fingering, oral (f receiving), handjob, edging/orgasm denial, degradation, pet names/degrading names, praise, impact play, pussy slapping, biting, crying from pleasure, dacryphilia, aftercare. as stated above, i am sure there is something i am forgetting. send an ask if it is glaring.   

w/c; 25.6k and some change (2.8k extra words for patreon bonus) 

beautiful liar - monsta x

a/n; thank you to my @junkissed for proofreading for me once again, i love you forever. i hope you all enjoy this one. i missed my boy so much and i wanted to expand a bit on gyu from shut up. give him a bit of life. its not the end of some of these characters, but we will see where they pop up in the future.

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“Put that box over there.” Wiping the sweat from the back of his neck, Mingyu sighs out his words gesturing with his free hand as Lee Chan and Kwon Soonyoung lift the large box full of guns from the back of the trailer and onto a table in front of him. It was hotter than usual today and Mingyu didn’t want to be at the bar on his Saturday, but yet here he was, ever diligent.

“What did you buy me?” 

Taking a breath to the sound of his boss, Mingyu puts on a good face before glancing towards Wen Junhui and letting the corner of his lips pull up, at least on one side. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Jun, it was more that he was tired. Jun had gotten breaks over the past few months after a run in with Park Bonhwa, but Mingyu hadn’t. Things hadn’t gotten much better on the back end, they had just gotten quieter. 

Pointing at the box in front of him before picking up a pry bar, Mingyu grunts as he loosens the nails and takes off the top for Jun to see. 

“This one is Glocks and revolvers.” Gesturing with the pry bar towards where Chan and Soonyoung were pulling the other box from the truck, Mingyu tilts his head. “Should be rifles, mostly AKs. Just like you asked for, boss.” 

Jun knew what he had asked Mingyu to acquire for him, he just liked to see a job well done and Mingyu rarely disappointed, especially as of late. Slapping the larger man’s shoulder, Jun reaches in with his free hand to take out one of the revolvers, a Smith & Wesson, to test the balance in his hand. “It’s good work, Gyu. These should hold us over for a few weeks.” 

Putting the gun back into the box, Jun reaches up to scratch at his eyebrow as he glances towards Xu Minghao, his second in command, with a sigh on his lips. “Listen, speaking of. I’m going out of town for a few weeks. Gonna take Kitten on a little vacation.” 

Making a bit of a face at the pet name, Mingyu lifts his brows as Minghao rolls his eyes and speaks up, leaning against the table beside him. “Couldn’t call her anything else? She has a name.” 

Shooting his best friend a look, Jun scoffs and tilts his head. “Not any name that matters; I’ll call her what I want. The point stands, we are going out of town. Hao, you are in charge and Mingyu...” 

Hearing his name, Mingyu straightens his back and meets Jun’s eyes, uncertain what is about to be said, but his anxiety seems to know before it’s even out of his mouth. 

“You’ll take on second. Don’t let my bar burn down.” 

As if he didn’t have enough of his plate already. Seeing the look in Jun’s eye, Mingyu puts on a good face and nods. “Got it.” 

Mingyu was a complicated man. There were some who knew him as a cheerful person, most of those people got to know him when he was drunk. There were those who knew him as threatening, those were the people who got to know him on a bad day, and then there were people who had known him for most of his life—those people could tell when he was bluffing. 

Following behind Mingyu after he had checked the last box and sent the others home for the day, Minghao watched his friend closely before finally speaking up, knowing they were alone, at least enough that he didn’t have to worry about being heard. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t already do while Jun’s out of town, Gyu.”

Leaning his head back in annoyance, Mingyu stops in his tracks at the sound of Minghao’s voice. He should have known he wasn’t alone and if it had been anyone else, he probably would have. Xu Minghao, however, was quiet, and that’s what had made Jun interested in him in the first place. 

Turning to face the man, Mingyu puts on the same face he had given Jun before shrugging. Even if Minghao gave him more to do, that wouldn’t be the end of the world; it wasn’t like he had a life outside of this bar anyway. Mingyu had known what he was getting into all those years ago when he took that first wad of cash from Jun. 

“I don’t care. You could send me to the moon to buy you a 1911 Colt and I’d make it fuckin’ happen.” Minghao could hear the stress in Mingyu’s voice and it caused the corners of his lips to turn down as he took a step closer to his friend. If anyone needed a vacation from here, maybe it was him, but he knew those were few and far between—Jun got what he wanted when he wanted it, but that was owner privilege. 

Reaching up to rub at his neck, Minghao glances back towards Jun’s office, hearing him talking low on the phone. He knew Jun’s schedule and what he could get away with and in theory, what Mingyu could get away with, at least for the time being. “Take tonight off. Jun doesn’t leave until tomorrow night. I’ll need your big ass here then, but I can’t have you tired and moping around the door like this tonight.” 

Scoffing, Mingyu shakes his head and tosses the towel he had been using in the warehouse into the laundry room as he starts to walk away from Minghao as he speaks up a bit louder to make sure he’s heard. “We don’t get nights off, Hao. I’m fine. I don’t trust anyone else at the doors. Anyone could walk in.”

Mingyu had already thrown out five people and the night had barely started. Minghao already felt like ripping his hair out as he heard another disgruntled patron trying to drunkenly state their case to the large man as he hauled them back towards the door. While Minghao didn’t disagree with most of the people that Mingyu had thrown out, some of it was for petty shit that on most nights they would look in the other direction of—like this one. 

“Man! What the fuck? I said I was sorry. My hand slip—slipped.” The man hiccuped through his explanation, but clearly Mingyu wasn’t hearing any of it as he pushed the door open and started to toss the man out towards the ground. 

Sighing, Minghao grabbed Mingyu’s arm, feeling the larger man push back against him, fire in his eyes, before he realized who had a hold of him. “What? Are you gonna punch me? Throw him out and meet me in the back. We need to talk.” 

The sound of the man’s body hitting the concrete makes Minghao shake his head as he hears those waiting in line let out a reaction. Some of them are amused and others seem shocked or horrified. Throwing up his hands, Mingyu meets some of their eyes before slamming the door and rolling his neck as he follows Minghao back towards the warehouse, feeling his blood boiling. 

“Can we make this quick? I really don’t trust Soonyoung on the door alone. He lets any chick through the door if she flashes her tits…” 

Shooting Mingyu a look, Minghao scoffs at the man’s words before running his hand over his face out of stress and impatience. “You used to too, Mingyu. Cut him some fuckin’ slack… matter of fact, cut everyone some slack tonight.” Minghao’s words are strained as he meets his friend’s eyes, seeing the same look he’s seen for weeks. 

Shaking his head, Mingyu lifts his hand to run it through his hair before turning away from Minghao to take a deep breath. He could feel himself getting angry at his friend and he didn’t want to let his anger get the best of him. He wasn’t like this all the time… just when he was stressed or tired and lately that was all he knew. 

“What—you know what, Hao? We spend all fucking night catering to these drunk assholes who grope the girls or pick fights with us and you expect me to just cut them some slack?” There was a layer of resentment in Mingyu’s voice as he finally turned back to face Minghao and meet his eyes. 

Throwing up his hands, Minghao groans, feeling his own frustration coming to a boiling point. He had tried to get Mingyu to take a night off but the big oaf had been too stubborn; now they were all paying for it. 

“I’m just saying that you need to chill the fuck out. It’s either that or you can go the fuck home. You understand me?” Watching Mingyu’s jaw clench, Minghao clenches his own and takes a step closer to the man he has known for the better part of a decade. “Go out there and enjoy this job—at least pretend to. Find a girl and get your dick wet—something! But stop walking around like you are going to knock everyone’s head off.” 

Mingyu wanted to. He really did. He had been spending more and more time in the gym with a punching bag in front of him, to the point that his knuckles would swell and bleed. Right now, he wanted to put someone’s head through a wall, but even thinking about it made his skin crawl. Minghao was right; he even knew this wasn’t like himself. He felt like he was drowning. 

Taking a shaky breath, Mingyu takes a step back from Minghao and runs his hand over his lips before looking around the room. “I just… I’m not sleeping. I’ll call it for the night, alright?” Mingyu didn’t look for sympathy and he didn’t want to look weak because he wasn’t. So even now, as he felt Minghao get closer to him, he wanted to bolt out of the room as bile rose in his throat. 

“Like I said—get your ass out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

The sound of his phone going off made Mingyu feel like his head was going to explode. He had done what he said he was going to do after leaving work. He had gone home and gone to bed. It hadn’t been his fault that his sleeping partner had been a fresh bottle of Jack and that bottle now lay empty next to him. 

Smacking at the nightstand with a large hand, Mingyu swipes the phone from it and puts it to his ear with a groan as he answers it. “What?” His voice is deep, full of sleep, as Mingyu rests his forearm over his eyes, trying to block out the sun that dares to peek around his black out curtains. 

Jun smirks against his thumbnail as he hears the sound of Mingyu’s voice. He knew Mingyu had gone home early the night before and he had assumed that the man would be all bright eyed and ready to get on with his day; instead, he sounded like he had just crawled into bed. 

“Morning sweetheart. Did I wake you?” 

Whining to the sound of Jun’s voice, Mingyu turns to his side, laying the phone on the pillow next to him for a moment before putting it back against his ear and forcing his eyes open. If it were anyone else, he could tell them to shove their phone up their ass and not call them back, but no, it had to be Wen Junhui. 

“It was a long night. Do you need me? I can be there in like—” Mingyu starts to count up how long it would take him to shower off the stink of whisky and to get dressed when Jun smiles into his words and saves him the trouble. “I do need you, Gyu. I always do, but I’m already on the way to the airport. Much to my surprise, I need you for other things.” 

Furrowing his brows, Mingyu sits up with a pained groan, feeling the blood rush from his head and eyes. He knew Jun was picking on him, but what could he possibly need help with if he and his lady were already going out of town? Blinking a few times, Mingyu slides off the bed and rubs at his neck with his free hand as he trudges towards his kitchen. 

“What things? Guns?” Mingyu sounds confused and tired as Jun listens to the sound of him rummaging around his apartment. Turning to look at Haneul, his fiancée as he runs his fingers along her cheek, Jun sighs and shakes his head. “No, that’d be easier. I got a call earlier from my sister. She’s landing in a couple hours.” 

Taking a large gulp of water, Mingyu pauses midswallow, only to get choked at the thought of Jun having a sister. Did he know that? Had he met Jun’s sister? What did this have to do with him? Coughing, Mingyu shakes his head and takes a breath, barely hearing Jun sigh in annoyance until he catches his breath and wipes at his lips, his voice a bit strained. “Sister? Landing? Like a flight? Where?” 

“You are learning new words, Mingyu?” Feeling Haneul smack at his hand and telling him to be nice, Jun sighs and purses his lips before rolling his eyes and explaining. “Yes, my sister, Y/N. Her flight lands at Incheon at 4:45 pm. I want you to pick her up and take her to the family penthouse.” Pinching his brows, Jun shakes his head and lets out a breath. “She didn’t tell me until this morning she was even coming or else I would have... it doesn’t matter. Just keep her entertained until I get back.” 

His mouth felt dry as Mingyu nodded along with Jun’s words, as if they were a language that he understood. First he learned that Jun had a sister and now he was learning that he had to pick you up and keep you entertained. How did one entertain their boss’ sister? 

“Wha—sure…okay. What does Y/N like? Should I just take her to the lounge—-” 

“Fuck no. Don’t you fucking dare take her to the bar. She’s a respectable woman, Kim Mingyu. Keep her away from anything that is remotely underground, understand?” Waiting to hear Mingyu agree with him, Jun nods along with his ‘yes’ before continuing. “Also, keep it in your fucking pants.” 

Opening and closing his mouth a few times, Mingyu tries to speak and come up with what to say in response to that, but the line goes dead, with Jun hanging up on him. Lowering his phone to the counter, Mingyu looks at the time and shakes his head. 2:15 pm… he had a little time to make sure he didn’t look like garbage.

“I don’t even know what Kim Mingyu looks like, Minghao.” You pout into your words as you roll your carry-on next to you towards baggage claim, your phone resting between your ear and shoulder. 

Minghao smiles at the sound of your voice as he shakes his head and sits down behind Jun’s desk at the lounge to turn on the laptop in front of him. “Look for a big idiot with nice hair. I’m sure he will have a sign with your name on it, honey.” 

Wrinkling your nose, you lift your eyes towards where most of the drivers and families were waiting, managing to see one man who stood out amongst the rest. He was tall, muscular, and gorgeous. Biting your lip, you try to see who’s name he’s holding, but the writing is messy, making it almost impossible to read unless you get closer. 

“Wow, is he really, um–” You try to think of how to ask Minghao about Mingyu when you sigh and bite the bullet, laughing. “Hot?” Lifting his brows, Minghao hears how you laugh and it makes him curious and a bit worried. He had already been told to tell Mingyu to behave, but did he need to tell you the same thing? “He’s... decent looking for an oaf, Y/N.” 

Nodding, you smile at the tall man as he glances down at his sign and back up at you, tilting his head like a puppy. “Then I found him. Talk to you soon, Minghao.” You hear Minghao try to speak, but you are quicker to end the call. Getting close enough to read your name in the chicken scratch on the piece of paper in the man’s hands. You laugh softly and look up at him with a sigh. “You must be, Mingyu.” 

Fuck. Fuck! That’s the only word that is repeating in Mingyu’s mind as he looks at you. He had to be decent. He has to respect you, but fuck! You are so beautiful. Swallowing hard, Mingyu nods before lowering the paper in his hand and nodding. “Miss Wen… I’ll get your bag. Jun told me to take care of you and get you to your family’s penthouse.” 

You watch as Mingyu turns his head away from you, quickly making your lips pull up in a curious smile. Following him towards the luggage carousel, you can’t help the way your eyes move along his body and land on his biceps as he pulls your suitcase from the track before turning back towards you and reaching out for your carry-on. 

“So... you are a driver for my brother?” 

Your words cause Mingyu’s brows to furrow, his breath getting caught in his throat as he walks with you towards the parking garage, being careful of traffic. Glancing towards you, he offers you a smile before tilting his head as if trying to think of the right thing to say before letting out a breath and finally speaking. “Uh, sometimes. I do a lot of things for your brother.” 

Reaching the G Wagon with him, you purse your lips, surprised not to see something different even as Mingyu loads your luggage into the back and moves around to open his passenger's side door for you. Seeing the look on your face, he lifts his brows slightly and presses his lips together, glancing at his car and back at you. 

“Is... is this not okay? Do you want to sit in the back? Do you not like my car?” Scratching the back of his head, Mingyu watches your lips pull up into a smile as he rambles. “Jun just told me to pick you up, so honestly, I don’t know much about what you do and don’t like... Miss Wen.” 

Finally laughing, you slide past Mingyu and climb into the car, glancing up at him as he rests his hand on the door, giving you a curious look. Letting out a breath, you lean your head back into the leather headrest and reach for the seatbelt as Mingyu keeps his eyes on you, even as they move along your face and down your body before he quickly moves them back up, realizing what he is doing when you finally speak to him. “I don’t like being called Miss Wen. Just call me Y/N, please.”

Swallowing hard, Mingyu then rubs his lips together out of nerves before lowering his head with a laugh. He just didn’t want to piss Jun off and while trying not to do that, he was being weird around you. Patting the top of the door frame, Mingyu nods before taking a step back to close your door. “You got it, Y/N.” 

Glancing around the large living room, Mingyu glances towards you as you drop your bag onto the couch before moving towards the floor to ceiling windows. He knew he really didn’t have to do much more for you. Yes, Jun had told him to keep you entertained, but he had done the first part. He had gotten you from the airport to the penthouse. The bar was going to open soon. 

Biting at his lip, Mingyu takes his phone from his jacket pocket and checks his messages when you glance back to look at him in the hallway, your luggage on either side of him. You could see his brows furrowed even from across the room. He had seemed so tense the entire drive from the airport and you could barely get him to open up to you. He was like a puzzle that you were dying to solve. 

“Talking to your girlfriend?” 

Your words pull Mingyu out of his haze as he reads Minghao’s text and back into the present with you. Lifting his brow, Mingyu scoffs but quickly clears his throat before shaking his head and sending a quick text back to Minghao. "No, I don’t have one. I was just letting Minghao know I had you here. Seeing if he wanted me at the loun—at work.” 

You watch as Mingyu quickly changes his wording and clears his throat once again. Stepping closer to the middle of the room, you can see the way he swallows hard and you know it’s because he’s trying to hide something from you. Smirking, you nod and gesture towards your bags before pointing towards another hallway. Mingyu’s eyes follow your hand before finding your eyes once again when you speak, some teasing in your voice. "Well, before you leave me for my brother’s shady bar, can you put my stuff in my room?” 

Mingyu feels his stomach in his throat as you mention the bar and start to walk towards the bedrooms. Groaning, he closes his eyes, feeling his phone go off in his hand, finding himself unwilling to look at it right away as he listens to your high heels click against the floor. 

So you knew about the lounge. Jun had told him you were a respectable woman. Mingyu had done his own research. Respectable was putting it simply. You were a doctor and where Jun might have lined his family’s pockets in his own way, you were like a beacon of joy for them, with your face in scientific journals and standing in front of hospitals with sick children. The lounge was so far away from who you were. 

Looking around the master bedroom, you nod before glancing back towards the door when Mingyu moves into the doorframe, only to stop and clear his throat as if asking for permission. He was not only breathtakingly handsome, but one of the most adorable men you had ever seen. You knew he worked for your brother in some capacity and in his less than desirable business adventure, but you couldn’t imagine it right now. Mingyu did not seem like the type of man to work for your brother. Then again, at one point in your life, you said the same about Minghao. 

“You can come into the room, Mingyu. What did my brother say to you to make you so afraid of me?” You smile, a small laugh in your words, as you take a step backwards to sit on the end of the bed as Mingyu puffs up his cheeks. 

Pushing your suitcases into the room, Mingyu looks down at you on the bed and he feels the image being burned into his brain as he tries not to imagine you lying back on it as he—sighing—shakes his head and lifts his hand to run his fingers through his hair. “He told me to take care of you. Entertain you while he was gone, but he also told me to behave... in not so many words.” 

Biting at your lip, you laugh once again, lifting your leg to cross it over the other, feeling Mingyu’s eyes drop to your legs before he has to force himself to look away, pulling out his phone once again to check his messages. “Behave, huh? And what does that mean? Are you bad, usually?” 

Feeling heat rising in his neck, Mingyu swallows hard, not only at the text messages from Minghao but also at your words. What were you trying to do? You were obviously testing him. You were teasing him. He should run for the hills and a cold shower. 

Laughing, Mingyu focuses on his phone, sending one last text to Minghao, pressing send harder than necessary as you watch him closely. “Who are you texting, Mingyu? Still talking to Minghao? I might start to get jealous. I thought you were supposed to entertain me.” 

Glancing at you over his phone, Mingyu sees the smirk on your lips. You were causing some intense feelings for him. He was afraid of you for so many reasons already. You were bad for his job and his friendships. You were a brat and he could tell you were having fun, seeming to know that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Minghao: Don’t need you tonight. Jun wants you to get some shit and guard Y/N 

Mingyu: You gotta be kidding me.

Minghao: I don’t need to remind you, but I will, because she’s like my sister too 

Minghao: Keep your dick in your pants 

Mingyu: I’m not an animal

Minghao: Yes, you are. Don’t let anything happen to her 

Minghao: Understand me? 

Mingyu: I understand! 

Giving you a strained smile as he shoves his phone into his pocket, Mingyu takes a step back from you and lifts his shoulders with a deep breath. “Which room is mine?” 

You had already known that Mingyu was going to be assigned to be security for you until your brother got back, even if you had told Jun and Minghao that you didn’t need a babysitter. At the time when you said it, you hadn’t known who Mingyu was or how much fun it might be. Now you are happy to have company. 

Smiling, you slide off the bed and up to your feet, glancing around your room with a teasing smile as Mingyu lets out a breath, afraid of what you are implying. Stepping past him, you glance up at him, letting your fingers trail over his hand before moving to the door. “Follow me.” 

Mingyu’s skin felt like it was on fire where your fingers had brushed over his. He was being stupid with just a small touch, but god, you were driving him crazy. You knew exactly what you were doing; it was going to take everything in him to keep some professionalism about him during this. He was already counting down the days, hours, and minutes until Jun would be back and this job would be over. 

Following behind you, Mingyu lets his eyes move down your back and over your ass before he glances off to the side when you make a quick right turn into the room right beside yours and nod. Glancing over your shoulder at Mingyu, you lift your hands to do a quick eye to hand measurement of his height before doing the same for the bed and making an unsure sound. “You might fit, big boy.” 

Unable to stop the scoff before it starts to leave his mouth, Mingyu walks past you into the room and looks at the bed. It wasn’t a small bed, and he wasn’t that big. Meeting your eyes, Mingyu watches you smirk at him before you glance around the rest of the room and pout your lips at him. “You didn’t bring anything with you? Maybe I could take a ride with you and stretch my legs while you pack a bag.” 

You knew he didn’t have anything else with him. Clearly, he hadn’t been planning on staying, but you seemed to have known he was going to be sticking around before he did. Sighing, Mingyu scratches at his eyebrow before gesturing towards the door and giving you a strained smile. You could tell you were wearing him down. You wanted to crack him. Get to the real Kim Mingyu, not this professional mask he was wearing for the sake of your brother. 

Mingyu hadn’t expected you to follow him up into his apartment, so when you did, he could feel the heat rising in his neck and face. His apartment was nothing compared to the penthouse you were staying in or the penthouse that Jun owned. All Mingyu had was a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment in a decent part of town and he kept it pretty clean. Thank god. 

“Uh, I’ll be quick. Just—” You watch as Mingyu hurries past you into his living room to swipe a gun from his coffee table, a few bullets hitting the floor as he curses under his breath, leaning down to pick them up. “Make yourself at home, I guess.” Glancing over his shoulder at you, Mingyu pushes the bullets into the magazine in his hand before pushing the magazine into the pistol and hearing it click. 

Your brows were raised and you were watching him curiously. He hadn’t planned for you to be in his space. He had been cleaning one of his guns the night before, well before the bottle of jack, but normally people weren’t inside his apartment. Especially people who looked like you and were decent, normal people. 

Following Mingyu with your eyes, you watch as he leaves the door crack, probably to listen to in the other room as he grabs a bag and starts to fill it with various things. You weren’t surprised that he had a gun and it didn’t bother you; in fact, it made him even sexier somehow. You felt a bit safer around him knowing that he was armed, especially if he was supposed to be taking care of you. 

Looking over the books on his shelves, you tilt your head and smile at the titles. They weren’t what you would expect someone like Kim Mingyu to have. As that thought crosses your mind, you think to yourself that it isn’t fair of you to think that. You didn’t know him well enough to judge his reading habits or intelligence. You just hadn’t expected to see The Count of Monte Cristo sitting on his shelf with the binding broken as if it had been read several times. 

Pulling the book out, you hold it delicately in your hands as you flip through, reading over the words—some you remember, others that you hadn’t forgotten, having not read it in so long. What makes you smile are the notes in the margins in the same chicken scratch that you had seen your name written in at the airport. 

Grabbing a few things from his bathroom, Mingyu zips up his bag and checks his pistol before sliding it into the holster under his jacket. You were quiet in the other room and that was making him nervous. He had tried to be quick while packing, but he had no idea what to bring, so he went simple and only took what he needed. 

Turning the corner into his living room, Mingyu stops in his tracks, seeing you standing in front of his bookshelf with one of his books in your hands. You were gorgeous in the evening light pouring in from the decently large windows he had been blessed with, and you had the prettiest smile on your lips as you ran your fingers over the margins of the book. He could already tell what book you were looking at before even getting closer. It was his favorite, but that was probably easy to see, which is probably why you picked it up. It was obviously the most well loved book on the entire shelf. 

“All human wisdom is contained in these two words–Wait and hope.” You read the quote from the book that Mingyu had re-written at the top of the page before glancing up at him as he watches you carefully. Closing the book, you slide it back into his place and take a breath before offering him a smile. “Are you a tortured soul, Kim Mingyu?” 

Laughing into a scoff, Mingyu adjusts his bag on his shoulder and shakes his head. “I just enjoy the idea of revenge being fulfilled, I think.” Mingyu watches you nod and take a few steps closer to him, the air feeling thicker as he tries to take a breath only to get a deep breath of your perfume. 

“And it has nothing to do with the love story attached to it? That isn’t why you’ve read that book so many times that the pages are falling out.” Mingyu’s eyes fall to your lips as you speak and he has to force himself to look back up to your eyes before pulling his gaze away from you and towards the window with the golden light. 

“It’s just a story.” You think to yourself as you hear the words come out of Mingyu’s mouth—what a beautiful liar he is.

Leaning back in the chair, Mingyu glances around the penthouse as you open the fridge and sigh. He wasn’t sure what you had expected to be in there. From what he understood, you hadn’t given Jun much of a heads up about this visit so it wasn’t like he could have things stocked and ready to go for you. Obviously, there wasn’t going to be a fridge full of food just waiting for you to use. 

“What is your favorite food, Mingyu?” Closing the fridge, you turn back towards the living room to lean against the kitchen island to face Mingyu. He looked surprised by the question, but you already had your phone out and were ordering groceries while waiting for him to answer you. 

“Whatever you like.” 

Smirking at his answer, you glance up from your phone and tilt your head before stepping around the island and into the living room to sit on the couch closest to the chair that Mingyu had chosen. The moment you had gotten back to the penthouse, you had opted to change. Your flight had been long; you were ready to get out of your clothes and into something more comfortable, so now you were in leggings and a tight tank top that Mingyu was having a hard time not staring at. 

“Oh? You like all the foods I like now? Have we reached that point in our relationship, darling?” Teasing him, you smile when Mingyu rolls his eyes and runs his hand over his mouth, opting to lean forward and look down at his knees to keep himself in check. You could almost see the stress rolling off of him; he needed a massage, maybe a vacation, but he for sure needed a good fuck before he suffered a heart attack. “I’m just picking on you, Mingyu.” 

He knew what you were doing and he wasn’t an idiot. You weren’t some angel like your brother and Minghao thought you were. Shaking his head, Mingyu glances up to meet your eyes before leaning back in the chair and laying his head back against the back of it. “Anything with meat. I’m not a fucking rabbit. If you need me to go get food, I can. Just give me a list.” 

Lifting your phone, you show him the groceries you had ordered and then swipe over to the delivery app to show him where you had chosen to get dinner from. “Work for you? We’ve already been out enough today. I’d rather we both stay in for the rest of the evening.” 

Mingyu couldn’t argue with you on that. Nodding to the choices, he stands to take off his jacket, drawing your attention to not only his arms under his t-shirt but also the gun holster on his side. Feeling your eyes on him, Mingyu takes a breath and shakes his head as he takes the pistol from the holster and turns it to the side to show you his thumb resting against the safety. “It’s on. I know how to use it, or else your brother wouldn’t have asked me to be here.” 

While you were curious about how and why Mingyu was so comfortable with the gun, you just nodded and leaned back on the couch, crossing your legs as he moved to put his gun down on the dining room table so he could unhook his holster and take it off. 

“I wasn’t going to ask if you knew how to use it, Mingyu. I mean, clearly, you do. Dressed like that.” Meeting your eyes briefly, Mingyu smirks as you glance away quickly and back to your phone as he lays the leather holster down on the table next to his pistol. Maybe it was that he had been with you for so many hours and that he was still feeling hungover, but what could it actually hurt to give you a taste of your own medicine. “Yeah, dressed like what, sweetheart?” 

You close your eyes, feeling yourself clench the moment Mingyu calls you sweetheart and his voice drops an octave. He was fighting dirty now and your body was a traitor. Shifting your legs, you tighten your thighs and clear your throat as you tilt your head, letting out a scoff. If he wanted to play, you could play. 

“Like that, you know, like a bad boy.” Giving Mingyu a once over, nice and slow, you finally meet his eyes and find that was a mistake as he lifts a brow and grins at you. Taking a deep breath, you think you turn your head away slowly, coolly, calmly, and collected—but Mingyu sees you panic and look away, making his ego grow. 

“What if I am a bad boy? Is that what you asked me before? If I was bad? If I misbehaved?” 

When had his voice gotten so low and sexy? When did Mingyu get so close? You could feel his hands on either side of you on the back of the couch as he leaned over you, standing behind the couch, but you didn’t dare look up. Instead, you focus on your phone even as you tap your foot against the floor, trying to hide how you are pushing your thighs together. Shrugging, you sigh, but it comes out shakier than intended, especially when you speak up. “I—well, I did ask that, but I was teasing you.” 

Grinning, Mingyu leans down to speak next to your ear, his eyes on your lap as he does. “And I’m teasing back. Can’t handle the heat? Stay out of the kitchen, baby.” Blowing a kiss next to your cheek, he laughs before standing back at his full height and stretching, pulling his arms behind him as he walks around the couch and towards the hallway. “I’m gonna take a shower; let me know when dinner is here.” 

You could feel sweat running between your breasts and your neck at how hot Mingyu had literally made you. Swallowing, you run your tongue over your lips and lean your head back against the couch, hearing the door to his bedroom shut, giving you a moment to finally catch your breath. God, you were in trouble. It had been fun at first, but now you wanted him. You wanted him badly. 

The rest of the night had gone fine. Even sleeping in a bed that wasn’t his—that was fine, but what wasn’t fine was waking up and walking into the kitchen to see you barely wearing anything. You were standing in front of the fridge, one hand on the door, the other pulling the carton of juice out, as you ran your toes along the back of your exposed calf. Mingyu couldn’t help but let his eyes run along your bare legs up to where your tiny shorts barely covered your ass. 

“I—aren’t you cold? I mean standing in front of the fridge like that.” 

Mingyu wasn’t much better than you were. He hadn’t opted to put on a shirt, so when you looked over at him, ready to give him some smart comments back, you almost lost grip of the juice in your hand. Choking on your words, you close the fridge and turn towards the kitchen island, reaching up to pull down two glasses, sneaking glances towards the man as you pour juice in both. “I—no. No… I’m not cold. It’s the summer, Mingyu. Clearly, I mean, you’re running around half naked.” 

Looking down at his torso, Mingyu shrugs, moving closer to the other side of the island, reaching out for one of the glasses of orange juice as you slide it to him. You had a point, but in his opinion, it was one thing for him to be shirtless and it was another for you to have your ass hanging out and your tits—god, your tits—just on display through that thin little tanktop. 

Swallowing his juice hard, Mingyu looks away from you, trying hard to think with his brain and not his cock, even as he feels it threatening to get hard just looking at you. Keep your dick in your pants. That’s what he had been told twice by Jun and Minghao, and yet you had been looking at him like he was a fucking three course dinner from the moment he had picked you up at the airport. How was he supposed to keep it civil with you when you were acting like you wanted to fuck him as badly as he wanted to fuck you—and he barely knew you. Did that even matter at this point? It had never mattered before with any other girl. 

You were doing your best not to ogle Mingyu, but it was easier said than done. With your glass against your lips, your eyes walked the line from his face to the top of his pajama pants, where they hung low on his lips. You could trace the line of his v-cut and you could imagine doing it with your fingers or your lips, it was only when he cleared his throat, sat his glass down and moved around the island towards you that you were startled enough to stop staring. 

“What are you doing?” Shifting out of Mingyu’s way, you watch as he opens the fridge and mutters to himself, ignoring your question as he pulls out a few things and sits them on the counter. Giving you a smile, he furrows his brows and opens a few of the lower cabinets until he finds the pots and pans he wants. “Making breakfast, sweetheart. What’s it look like? Didn’t look like you were gonna do it. I figure bigwig doctors don’t have to cook for themselves anyway.” 

Rolling your eyes, you shift slightly, letting Mingyu pull the drawer open next to you as you feel his body pressed against yours. His skin was hot to the touch, and while his words frustrated you, having him so close made you struggle not to grab him. 

Taking a spatula from the drawer, Mingyu winks at you and pushes the drawer shut, stepping back to hear you let out a slow breath. He could tell you were irritated with him. He liked it. You were a brat and he was enjoying pushing your buttons. It didn’t matter if you were this smart as fuck doctor who could probably run laps around him when it came to most things, he could still teach you a few lessons. 

“What? What’s that look for? Am I wrong? You don’t have a personal chef?” Cracking a few eggs into a bowl in front of him, Mingyu watches you cross your arms over your stomach as you scoff. You weren’t able to say anything, which told him he wasn’t that far off. “Or you do. Is that a doctor thing or a Wen thing?” 

“You are so fucking annoying... I hope you cook as well as you run your mouth.” There was some fire to your tone of voice and it was going straight to Mingyu’s cock again. Smirking to himself as he pours the eggs into the pan, he adjusts the heat and meets your eyes only for a second before taking a few slices of bacon from the package and adding them to another pan. 

“Afraid I’ll try to put something in your mouth you won’t like?” Mingyu’s words make your cheeks heat up. Scoffing, you try to think of the right thing to say, but nothing comes to mind quickly enough so he fills the empty space with his irritatingly handsome laugh. “Come on, you know that was funny. I have to tease you a little bit. You’ve been keeping me on my toes, sweetheart.” 

Pushing your tongue against your cheek, you meet Mingyu’s eyes as he puts the bacon next to the eggs and puts the pan back on the stove, only to rest his hand on the counter next to your hip. “Keep lookin’ at me like that and you’ll make me think you want me to do more than tease.” 

“Yeah? And what happened to behaving?” You smirk, looking down at Mingyu’s hand, then back up at his eyes as he takes a step closer to you. Both of you knew this was a bad idea, but as you bite at your pretty bottom lip, letting it get caught between your teeth as you smile at him, Mingyu’s resolve breaks. Stepping in front of you, he puts his other hand on the other side of you to keep you pinned to the island as you take a deep, shaky breath. “I think I’m done trying to behave. How ‘bout you, sweetheart?” 

Mingyu had put the ball in your court. He wasn’t touching you yet. If you wanted to get away from him, you could. He would listen to you if you told him to get away, but those words never left your mouth. Instead, you whine his name, reaching up to grab him by his neck and pulling him down to your lips. Mingyu groans into the kiss, feeling your nails scratch at the back of his neck and into his hairline. It had been a while since a kiss had made him feel like this. He usually avoided kissing his hookups, but occasionally they would whine about it enough that he’d give in and they were nothing like this. They were nothing like you. 

Sliding his hands from the counter to your hips, Mingyu nips at your lips as his fingers dig into your flesh through your clothes and he lifts you up and onto the counter. Stepping between your legs, he smiles against your lips before licking the seam of your lips, asking for permission until you give it to him, parting your lips. His tongue glides along yours and he groans to the taste of your mouth as his hands pull you forward and into his hips, letting you feel his cock hard between your legs. 

Furrowing your brows, you lean your head back to take a breath, hoping your mind might clear—that you might come to your senses—but Mingyu’s lips move to your jaw and then your neck. He only makes you want him more. You weren’t like this usually. No man could make you throw yourself at them, but there was something about Kim Mingyu. Maybe it was being away from home and having no one around to tell you to be perfect. You felt like you could go on desire instead of common sense. 

“Oh my god, Mingyu...” You sound so desperate that it makes Mingyu groan against your throat, his hands finding the counter under you once again. He feels his cock twitch in his pajama pants at the breathy moans leaving your mouth and every single lie that he will have to tell Jun and Minghao feels worth it. 

“Fuck, you sound so pretty. Just like an angel.” Taking a step back, Mingyu runs his fingers along the sides of your legs, feeling chill bumps spread along your skin until he meets your shorts. Tilting his head, he licks his lips and meets your eyes, looking for you to give him permission as he pushes his fingers into the top of your shorts. Nodding, you lift your hips and press your lips together when Mingyu tugs your shorts down to your thighs with a groan. “Baby, you’re trying to kill me. You knew what you were wearing when you came into this kitchen. You were asking for me to fuck you, huh?” 

Shaking your head, you still smile as Mingyu lifts your legs and drops your shorts onto the kitchen floor at his feet. You shiver at the feeling of his nails lightly scratching along the slides of your legs as he steps back between your legs, his eyes falling to his prize. “‘Course you were. It’s okay; you can tell me, angel. Have you been this wet the entire time?” 

Lifting his hand to his lips, Mingyu runs his tongue along the pad of his thumb as you watch. Keeping his eyes on you, he uses his thumb to spread your wet folds, searching for your clit. When you arch your back, pushing your hips toward his hand, Mingyu smirks and draws a circle around the small bundle of nerves. 

“Please, please, oh my god.” Your voice goes straight to Mingyu’s cock. He feels himself start to leak against his pants as he turns his hand, brushing his knuckles against your folds when you lift your hips, trying to get more from him. 

“Please what? You know... you haven’t been very nice to me, Y/N.” Mingyu meets your eyes, and as he pouts his lips, his words almost sound sad. Scoffing, you glance down at his hand only to have his free hand grab your chin, bringing your eyes back to his face. “Eyes on me. You have teased me since you got here. You might be pretty as an angel, but you are a brat. I need to teach you a lesson, baby.” 

Whining, you lean your head back, a pout on your lips this time as Mingyu’s fingers move from your pussy to your leg. “No, no… I’m sorry. Touch me. I can be good.” Mingyu’s lips pull up in a smirk as he tilts his head, listening to your begging. He could get used to the sound of that, but it wasn’t good enough. All he had done was threaten, and he had to follow through. 

“Are you scared?” Strong hands grip your hips as Mingyu slides you to the end of the counter. You meet his eyes and try to think about how to answer him. Swallowing hard, you nod, and Mingyu nods, lifting one hand up to cup your cheek. Taking a step back, he leans in and kisses you so sweetly that your head spins, only for you to gasp into a surprised moan when his other hand comes down in a sharp slap over your wet folds. “Want me to stop?” 

Breathing hard against his lips, you close your eyes tightly to the strange feeling of pain and pleasure as Mingyu’s fingers run through your folds once again. Pushing his index finger into your tight hole, he keeps his eyes on you, waiting for your answer, but you only shake your head. “Words, angel, or I will stop.” 

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you push Mingyu’s finger into you further and he groans on your lips, meeting your eyes. Leaning in a few inches to press your lips to his, you speak between kisses, keeping your eyes on his. “Don’t stop. Teach me a lesson, Mingyu.”

A deep groan comes from Mingyu’s throat, almost a growl as he leans his forehead against yours, hearing those words come out of your mouth. You were where this untarnished, this perfect white rose… and he was going to ruin you. 

“Oh, I’ll teach you something you’ll never forget, baby. You're dripping down my finger, just like a little whore.” Gasping not only at Mingyu’s words but also at the feeling of a second finger pushing into you beside the first, you grab at his wrist again. Mingyu grins, an almost cruel laugh on his lips, as he rubs his fingers back slowly towards his palm, feeling your soft walls on his fingertips. “I thought you were supposed to be respectable. That’s what your brother told me.” 

Trying to lift your lips, you whine Mingyu’s name when his free hand pushes your hips back down on the kitchen counter. Tsking at your behavior, he leans his head back and meets your eyes as he lifts his brows and slides his fingers out almost all the way. “I’m talking, angel. Stop being so fucking impatient. You told me to teach you a lesson, so listen to me.” 

Fingers plunge back into you, causing you to choke on a moan. Mingyu relishes the sounds coming from your mouth as much as he enjoys the feeling of your pussy sucking his fingers back in with every thrust. 

“Please… please. I’m good. I’m listening.” Your words are almost incoherent babbling and Mingyu can’t help but smirk. Were you that drunk off of him already? He had barely started. All you had gotten from him was a kiss and his fingers fucking you, and you were struggling to remember how to speak. 

“So fucking pretty and making such a mess.” Your cheeks burn in embarrassment because you know that Mingyu isn’t lying. You can hear how wet you are as his fingers fuck into you at such a brutal pace that you are seeing stars. 

Unable to keep yourself up anymore, you slide your hands back, only to gasp in surprise when  you hear the sound of glass hitting the floor and shattering. Mingyu laughs, his eyes on you, as you try to look for what fell. “Who the fuck cares? I don’t even want breakfast anymore. I got mine right here.” 

Running your hand over your face, you struggle to catch your breath as you lay back on the counter, feeling Mingyu’s fingers slide from you, leaving you right on the edge of your orgasm. If you were any more coherent, you would have yelled at him for not finishing, but you didn’t have time to come to your senses or to be angry. The feeling of Mingyu’s tongue taking the place of his fingers has your stomach in knots. Trying to push your thighs together, you find it impossible as a strong hand holds one leg up, and Mingyu’s face grinds into your pussy. 

There were few things that Mingyu loved more than getting his dick wet, but eating pussy was one of them. The feeling of a woman’s thighs around his head, having to take deep breaths between groaning against her soft plush folds—that was better. Mingyu could feel himself getting close to his own climax. He knew he could ask you to let him fuck you, that you’d probably agree, but this was it. This was what he had wanted the moment he walked into the kitchen and saw your ass peeking from under those little shorts. 

Digging his nails into your skin, Mingyu nudges his nose against your clit as he sucks at your pussy, enjoying not only your taste but the smell and feeling of you against his mouth and skin. Yes, this was one of his favorite things to do, but with you? This was fucking heaven. You were heaven. He had been calling you an angel because of how you were moaning his name, but tasting your cum on his tongue and feeling you grind against his face? You had to be his one gift from God. 

You weren’t sure how many times Mingyu had made you cum on his tongue. You had never felt anyone use their mouth like him and by the time that you had your fingers in his hair pulling him from your thighs, you were sobbing and your legs were shaking. Meeting your eyes, Mingyu licks his lips before glancing back down at his prize with a groan. You were beautiful. From the top of your head to your toes, your pussy—wet and swollen from his mouth was to die for. 

“I need—I wanna help you. God, you are trying to kill me.” You watch Mingyu run his fingers through his hair, a sheepish grin on his face as he stands up between your legs. You were out of breath, you looked exhausted and pliant. Mingyu shakes his head as he wipes his mouth, feeling your fingers tugging at his hand, only for him to wrap his fingers around your wrist and keep your hand still. 

“I’m good. You did help me.” Shaking your head, you move to your elbows and whine, reaching for Mingyu’s pajama pants, when you realize he’s not hard anymore. Furrowing your brows, you meet his eyes once again to see his brows lift as he licks his lips. “I came, baby. ‘Sides... told you I had to teach you a lesson. It was a lesson in what happens when you tease me.” 

Mingyu watches a pout form on your lips. You were devestantly cute and it was bad for not only his job but his health. Jun and Minghao were going to kick his ass or they might just kill him. Shaking his head, Mingyu leans down to press his lips to yours as you whine his name and slide your fingers along his sides, feeling a thin layer of sweat under your hands. 

“I know I need a fuckin’ shower now... and you need to eat. I’ll clean up the glass. Don’t step on the other side.” 

He was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Watching Mingyu move away from you, you furrow your brows as he picks up a dish towel and leans down to clean up orange juice and broken glass. Just moments ago, he was calling you a little whore, and now he was worried about you getting hurt and needing to eat. Biting at your lip, you swallow hard and slide off the counter to pick up your shorts and put them back on as you listen to Mingyu pick up the pieces of your cup. 

“Should we—I don’t know, should we talk about what just happened?” Your voice makes Mingyu want to laugh as he puts pieces of glass into the dish towel and tries to avoid cutting his fingers. You seemed confused or maybe even like you regretted it. Shaking his head, Mingyu lets out a breath and moves to the trash with his towel, dropping it all in before meeting your eyes. “Do you wanna pretend it didn’t—” 

“Oh my god! No… I liked it. I just—Jun and Hao. Should we talk about—” Lifting his hands, Mingyu laughs, making you stop before you spiral. Moving back around the counter, you watch him take in a deep breath and it draws your eyes to his chest once again. God, he really was the most beautiful man you had ever seen and you had just had his face between your legs. Your mind was spinning. 

“It’s between us. I won’t tell them if you don’t. I’d actually prefer to keep my cock attached to my body.” Smirking, Mingyu tilts his head, reaching up to grab your chin, making you meet his eyes instead of looking at his chest. “You seem to be interested in it too, so... deal?” 

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He was so lewd. He went from being almost sweet to making you feel like you were dirty. Nodding, you feel Mingyu’s thumb run over your bottom lip as he hums happily. “That’s a good girl. I’m gonna shower, eat what I made, even if it’s cold.” 

Dropping his hand, Mingyu lets his fingers trail over your hip as he walks towards the hall, leaving you alone in the kitchen with your head spinning and your thighs aching. 

You had hoped that Mingyu would act differently after the morning’s extracurricular activities, but as soon as he got out of the shower and you were back in the living room with him, you found him with his phone in his hand. You were starting to hate his phone. He sat with you on the couch and didn’t care when you tried to lean in close to him, but he didn’t attempt to make any more moves on you. 

It was like night and day. 

Sighing at his phone, Mingyu shifts against you as you watch tv. Glancing at his wrist, he rolls his eyes and slides letting you unceremoniously fall against the cushions. Pushing yourself back up, your eyes follow him as he moves to pick up his leather jacket and pulls it on before glancing at you with an unsure look in his eyes. Words on the tip of his tongue before he finally bites the bullet, “I have to go into work. It’s gonna be busy, I can’t let Minghao cover that shit alone.” 

Sitting up, you glance around the room before meeting his eyes once more as he waits for you to give him permission, though he knows he doesn’t need it. Yes, he was supposed to keep you safe and “entertained”, but what all could happen to you in a cushy penthouse. “So… be a good girl, and I’ll be back in the morning.” 

Your mouth falls open and you are on your feet before Mingyu takes the first step. You weren’t going to be a good girl, it seemed. Sighing, Mingyu runs his fingers through his hair. He had a good idea what you were about to ask, but hearing the words come out of your mouth didn’t make them easier to hear or to decline. “Can I come?” 

Shaking his head no, he moves past you, feeling your hand grab his wrist as you stomp your feet and whine his name. He had been told explicitly not to bring you to the lounge. Of course, he had already broken some rules with you, which made it harder to look you in the eye. 

“Your brother told me to absolutely not bring you to the lounge. Y/N, baby, please. Just stay here and be good. Place isn’t for women like you anyway.” Mingyu’s words make you scoff. Women like you. What did he think you were? Some saint? Trying to jerk Mingyu’s arm back towards you, you aren’t surprised when he is able to pull free with little effort. 

Mingyu hated saying no to you, especially with how you were looking at him. He could tell you were upset with him, but he’d rather you be a little irritated than have you being felt up by some low life at the bar. Reaching up to grab your chin between his fingers, Mingyu presses his lips to yours, feeling you pout into the kiss for just a moment until you relax. You couldn’t stay mad at him. It wasn’t like he could just put his life on hold for you, though you desperately wanted him to. 

“Mm, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. We’re closed… I’ll treat you so good.” You could feel your knees go weak at the smooth tone of Mingyu’s voice as his fingers traced your jaw. He was playing you like a fiddle and you just nodded like the pathetic girl you are before kissing him once more at the door. 

Watching the door shut, you whine and throw your head back dramatically before picking up your phone and laying on the couch. You knew Mingyu was probably right, but that didn’t make it any easier to feel like Rapunzel stuck in a glass tower. 

Y/N: [picture attached]

Mingyu sighs out a breath of smoke as he uses the palm of his hand to pull his G-Wagon into his usual parking spot. It was already getting late in the afternoon so getting to the lounge this late was like getting to class after the bell. 

Taking one last pull from his cigarette, Mingyu tosses it to the pavement before pushing it into the concrete with his boot as he takes his cell phone from his pocket to check his messages from you. He knew he had a few. You were tempting him to come back to the penthouse and as much as he wanted to bring you along, or get back and throw you on a bed, he had a job to do. 

Mingyu: That doesn’t look like a good girl. Just a pretty slut with great tits. 

Mingyu smirks to himself as you send a string of dramatic responses before he slides his phone back into his jacket and makes his way towards the building. You’d be fine. You were safe and away from the shit that your brother had hoped to keep secret from you. It wasn’t Mingyu’s fault you knew about it, but he could at least do what he was told and not bring you in right under Minghao’s nose. 

“Hey man, I thought I was gonna have to do this shit by myself again.” Taking a deep breath, Mingyu shakes his head at Soonyoung’s words as he slips by the smaller man at the door. There were already a few people lined up waiting to get in. He had been in Soonyoung’s place before, and while he could handle it by himself now, he remembered the stress of being newer and being left to the dogs. 

“Nah… I’m here. Sorry about last night. Had something else the boss wanted me to do.” Mingyu grabs one of the glasses from the bar and pours himself a shot of whiskey as Soonyoung nods along with his words before droning on about the night before. He liked Soonyoung, but he could already feel a headache behind his eyes as Chan turned up the volume at his booth, the bass causing his ears to ring. 

“So, I’m just sayin’... there are some real pricks comin’ every single fuckin’ night.” Leaning his head back, Mingyu winces at the burn of the alcohol before nodding, not even meeting Soonyoung’s eyes. “I get it. Don’t fucking worry about it. If they show up, I’ll take care of ‘em.” 

Soonyoung’s shoulders relax at Mingyu’s words. He was happy to have him back. He could do his job and Vernon was decent help, but there wasn’t anyone like Mingyu. It was different when you had a 6’2” wall next to you who wasn’t afraid to put someone in their place. “Cool, cool, alright, man. Thanks.” 

For the first couple of hours, Mingyu felt like he could fall asleep at the door. It was mundane and he was beginning to wonder if this was actually a Saturday night or not, but by hour three, he was eating his words. After four bar fights and a debate on whether one man needed an ambulance or not later, Mingyu was taking a much needed smoke break. 

Scrolling through texts from you, he found himself smirking at how needy you were being. It wasn’t just that you wanted him to come home and fuck you—it was that you were bored and spoiled. All he had done was play around with you a bit, fuck you on his tongue and fingers and you were already a spoiled little princess. 

Mingyu: Baby… I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t you remember what I said? Trying to make me regret it? 

Mingyu: Want me to take it back?

Pouting at your phone, you push your head back into your pillows as you kick your legs from under your blankets. You couldn’t believe he was actually going to stay out all night. You couldn’t believe that Minghao would keep him out that late, knowing that you were here, but you also knew you were being unreasonable. You knew that Mingyu had a life before you got here, and he’d have one once you flew back home. 

Y/N: No… Just miss you. It’s lonely in this big, ‘ol apartment. How’s work?

With his cigarette between his lips, Mingyu scoffs softly, almost feeling a bit soft at your response. You were so sweet, it was frustrating. You made him feel a bit crazy. Mingyu knew you weren’t his for long. You shouldn’t be his at all… he had made promises, but you had landed in his lap and he wasn’t going to let it go to waste. 

Mingyu furrows his brows at the sounds of footsteps behind him as he looks down at his half written response to you on his phone. It could be anyone; he was behind the building, but not many people came out unless they were doing exactly what he was doing or they were looking for someone. Someone looking for him? Soonyoung? Minghao? 

Turning his head and starting to speak, Mingyu feels the breath get knocked from his lungs as the cigarette falls from his lips to the ground along with his phone. Concrete bites at the heels of his hands as Mingyu hits the ground, the sharp feeling of a boot hitting his side knocking any chance of a full breath from his lungs. 

“Get up, motherfucker.” 

Mingyu groans, tasting copper in his mouth, his head lifting just in time for him to react and use the strength he has to catch the foot aimed at his head. Twisting hard, Mingyu rolls his body over, pulling the man down until he is under him, bringing his elbow down across the man’s cheek with a loud crack. 

Neither notices the doors to the building opening until the light spreads over the ground, letting Mingyu see who had attacked him. Lee Eunseok, one of the men he had thrown out earlier in the night for starting a fight, and more importantly, one of Park Bonhwa’s faithful followers. 

“Gyu! He’s down, it’s done!” 

Minghao’s voice rings in Mingyu’s ears as he lands another punch to the side of Eunseok’s face, feeling muscle and bone give under his knuckles. He only stops when Soonyoung, Minghao, and Vernon pull him off, leaving the other man to catch his breath and bleed on the ground. 

Tugging his arms away from his friends, Mingyu’s voice comes out as more of a growl as he feels his lungs and stomach twist in pain. “Get the fuck off me!” Hands move from him, but they stay close, keeping him from going back to Eunseok as he rolls on to his side, laughter escaping his cracked, bleeding lips between words. “Such a little bitch, Kim.” Sliding his hand towards Mingyu’s phone, he looks at the screen at your name before holding it up to show it to Mingyu and the others with a look on his face that makes Mingyu feel sick to his stomach. “Your girlfriend? Should I call her and say hi?” 

Minghao moves forward before Mingyu can, grabbing the phone from Eunseok reading your name and turning off the screen. His eyes meet Mingyu’s and it tells him everything he needs to know. Not only had Eunseok struck a nerve, but there was plenty to talk about later. 

“Get this son of a bitch off the property.” Mingyu’s eyes never leave Minghao's, even as Soonyoung and Vernon move to lift Eunseok from the ground and drag him towards the parking lot. Offering him his phone, Minghao gives Mingyu a once over shaking his head as the larger man takes it and spits blood onto the ground to clear it from his mouth. 

“I don’t wanna talk about—” 

“I don’t give a fuck what you want to talk about. What did I tell you?” Sucking in a breath as he lifts his hand, running it through his hair, Minghao curses under his breath, pointing towards the doors for Mingyu to move. In theory, Mingyu knew he could tell him to shove it up his ass. He could walk away, but he also knew that would be the end of his life. Jun wouldn’t let him just walk away. So Mingyu put his head down like a child in trouble and walked towards the building as Minghao followed in tow. 

The sound of the office door closing only makes Mingyu’s head throb more. He felt like he could finally catch his breath, though he knew he had bruised ribs. He could still taste the blood in his mouth and all he wanted to do was go after Eunseok and finish what the man had started. It wasn’t in Mingyu’s nature—at least as of late—to just “let it go”. 

Sitting down against the desk, Minghao runs his fingers through his hair, giving Mingyu a good once over. He had seen him be careless the last few weeks, but directly going against orders—even that was bold for him. He knew that you were attractive and could be a tease, that didn’t excuse Mingyu from thinking with his dick instead of his head. 

“If Jun finds out—”

“Why does he have to?” Rolling his neck from side to side, Mingyu lets out breath before lowering himself into a chair in front of Minghao. To him, this was simple. He knew that Minghao was Jun’s best friend, but he was also supposed to be his best friend. Where was his protection? Where was his bit of grace when he fucked up? He never got that. He just got sent to a corner or told to clean up someone's shit. 

Scoffing, Minghao rests his hands on the desk under him, studying Mingyu. “You think it’s just that easy? That I can lie to Jun about something to do with his sister?” Minghao shakes his head and looks towards a painting on the wall as Mingyu shifts in the seat, feeling anxious, ready to get up and leave. 

“Not like I’m knockin—” Before the rest of the words are out of his mouth, Minghao’s eyes are back on Mingyu and his mouth shuts as he rethinks his words again. “It’s just fun. It’s fun for her. I wouldn’t do anything to fuck it up. I’m not stupid.” 

That was up for debate as far as Minghao was concerned, especially with what had almost come out of Mingyu’s mouth. Just the idea of him getting you pregnant was enough to give Minghao a migraine and for him to watch Mingyu out of his sight. Lifting his hand, Minghao rubs at his eyes with a groan of annoyance as he shakes his head. His words are strained, and he regrets them as soon as they are spoken. “Just keep it to yourselves. I don’t want to see it and I don’t want to know about it. Jun will break your fuckin’ neck, Gyu.” 

Lifting two fingers to his forehead, Mingyu gives Minghao a sarcastic salute as he sighs and pushes out of the chair. “Got it, boss. I’m cuttin’ outta here early. I think getting the shit kicked out of me gives me a pass, don’t you?” 

There was something eating at Minghao about how Mingyu was acting, but he couldn’t blame him for wanting to leave a couple of hours early to get some rest after what had happened. Taking a deep breath, he nods before saying Mingyu’s name, watching the large man turn back towards him with a clenched jaw. “Text me when you get home. Just wanna make sure you're feelin’ okay. You were spittin’ up a lotta blood before.” 

Waving Minghao off, Mingyu mutters under his breath as he pushes the door open and his eyes move right for the exit. Minghao would be waiting a bit for that text. 

Mingyu wasn’t thinking clearly; he was just seeing red as he drove towards where he suspected Eunseok to be. Throwing his car into park, Mingyu winces as he looks at the back of the blacked out Cadillac. He knew he was in the way as Eunseok put the Cadillac in reverse and cursed under his breath while watching Mingyu get out of his vehicle and walk towards his door. 

“Get the fuck out.” Point his finger towards the window; Mingyu doesn’t need to see Eunseok’s face to know he can hear him. When he doesn’t open the door immediately, the red Mingyu had been seeing goes to black as he jerks the door open and reaches for the man. He grabs  Eunseok’s shirt under his hands and Mingyu grits his teeth, seething as he tries to pull him from the car. Falling back, he feels searing pain in his right arm. 

The sound of the gunshot doesn’t even register as much as Eunseok’s panicked breath and the way he fumbles the gun. Taking a step back, Mingyu looks down at his arm, the blood running along the brown leather and he acts before he thinks. His fingers wrap around the grip of his gun and before Eunseok can get off a second shot, Mingyu pulls the trigger, watching the man fall back across the center console. 

The ringing in Mingyu’s ears dulls to a low hum as the world seems to slow down. Calming down, his breath slowing, the pain in his arm becomes all the more apparent. Hissing under his breath, Mingyu rolls his shoulder before looking back into the Cadillac at Eunseok’s limp body. He was half expecting the man to move and to groan in pain, but nothing happened. 

Taking a step forward, Mingyu furrows his brows as he looks at the blood splattered across the dashboard. His eyes fall to Eunseok and the blood seeps from the wound on his chest. Wiping his hand across his lips, Mingyu groans, stopping himself from reaching for the door to steady himself. He hadn’t meant to kill him. It was self defense—instinct, but that didn’t stop the bile in his stomach from churning. 

“Fuck…” Glancing around the parking lot, Mingyu rakes his fingers through his hair, trying to keep himself calm, though his heart was beating hard, causing blood to seep even quicker from the gunshot in his bicep. There wasn’t a lot of time to stand and ponder, so acting on instinct once again, Mingyu reached for Eunseok’s jacket and took out his wallet. Pulling the cash from it, he pockets it and uses his shirt to wipe his prints from the leather before laying it on the man’s lap. 

It wasn’t perfect. If he had more time, he’d get rid of the car and Eunseok’s body completely, but the sun was going to rise soon, and Mingyu was bleeding too much. There was already a chance his blood was somewhere and if the cops looked too closely— no, he wouldn’t let himself think about that. 

Slamming the door shut, Mingyu wipes down the door handle and stumbles backwards, feeling the loose concrete under his feet as he takes one last look around. There had been many times when he had fucked up, but this time really took the cake. Mingyu slides behind the wheel of his car and winces in pain as he shifts it into reverse, the wheels spinning the gravel as he speeds off towards your penthouse. 

Minghao: Has Mingyu gotten in yet?

Y/N: No, he said he’d be back in the morning. 

Staring at your phone, you felt a sense of dread in your stomach. Why would Minghao be asking you about Mingyu? And why would he be asking if he was back yet? Something felt wrong. 

Pressing down on Mingyu’s name, you put your phone to your ear, listening to the sound of it ringing as you bite on your lips. If he were at the bar, he might not answer you. He had stopped answering your texts, but you had assumed he was busy. But then there was that text from Minghao. Wasn’t he also working? 

No answer. You start to pace, your lips starting to feel raw as you hit Mingyu’s name again and listen to the three rings and then Mingyu’s voice tells you he can’t come to the phone. “What the fuck, Mingyu?” 

Leaning against the door to the penthouse, Mingyu groans, feeling his phone go off in his pocket. He didn’t know if it was Minghao, Jun, you, or worse... but he just had one thing on his mind, getting inside. You drop your phone on the couch as you hear the sound of the door opening, rushing towards it. Stopping to lift your hands to your mouth in shock as Mingyu moves through the door and leans back against it to take a deep breath. 

Your eyes follow the blood as it drips from his jacket onto the white tile, keeping you frozen in place for only a moment until you rush forward and push at his jacket, trying to get it off. “Let me see it.” Shaking his head, Mingyu knocks his head back against the door at your panicked voice. In that moment, he forgets who you are, besides the girl he’s been flirting with. All he can think is that you are being dramatic, but your fingers on his face pulling his attention to you brings him back to reality. “Take off the fucking jacket, Mingyu. I need to see what happened. Is it a gunshot? I need to see if it went through or if I need to get the bullet out.” 

Mingyu’s brows furrow as he shrugs his shoulders, letting you remove his jacket and tossing it to the floor. You’re a doctor. That realization comes back to him as you tug his t-shirt sleeve up and carefully inspect his arm. “Gunshot.” One word. That's all Mingyu can manage, but it’s enough for you. Meeting his eyes, you nod and take his left hand, leading him through the living room and finally to the couch. 

“Sit down. I need to get a few things.” Pointing at the couch, you wait for Mingyu to sit, but when he doesn’t right away, you sigh and push at his chest to guide him down. “Y/N… I can deal with it myself. You don’t gotta—” 

As if you know what Mingyu is going to say, you give him a sharp look, leaning to press your lips against his, silencing him. Leaning back just enough to look him in the eye, you furrow your brows and let out a slow breath. “Stay here and stop fucking complaining.” 

Leaning his head back on the back of the couch, Mingyu takes a deep breath, feeling the throb in his arm. Without his jacket on, the pain was even more intense and it felt like you were taking your time. In reality, you were going through your bag as quickly as possible to find what medical supplies you had the forethought to pack. The gunshot on Mingyu’s arm wasn’t life threatening, it wasn’t even something you hadn’t dealt with before, but it was more that it was him. 

Your slippers hit the floor as you quickly make your way back to Mingyu, finding him already getting antsy. You knew he could be reckless but now he was being willfully ignorant. Mingyu clinched his teeth as he pushed the skin on his bicep together as if he were making anything about his situation better—as if without any tools he could mend it. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Mingyu?! Get your dirty hands off. I swear to God, are you just being stu—” You stop mid sentence when you meet Mingyu’s eyes, seeing what you swear are tears on the rims of his eyes. You knew he was in pain; he had to be. It was one thing to be shot, the bullet to go straight through, but whoever had shot him had almost missed him and the bullet had cut through muscle and flesh, leaving a good two to three inch gash, dripping blood angrily down his arm. 

Sitting beside him, your eyes follow Mingyu’s shaky hand as it drops to his lap, blood covering his fingers. “I’m not tryin’ to be stupid. Just… it fucking hurts, Y/N.” Your stomach twists at his words, but you keep your head pulling a pair of gloves on and moving closer to get to work. 

You didn’t have everything you would have in a normal hospital setting. There was no anesthetic. You didn’t have anything to make your needle less painful as you worked it through Mingyu’s skin, and yet he didn’t complain. The most you heard from him were sharp breaths and the occasional grunt, but when you put in the final stitch and meet his eyes, Mingyu gives you an exhausted nod. 

“It’s not the best work I’ve ever done. If you had gotten here sooner and didn’t fuck with it, I might have been able to save you from some of the scarring, but—” Mingyu’s eyes follow you as you take off your soiled gloves and put them into a bag, along with a few other things, and your voice falls off into a soft breath. He didn’t care about the scar. He had plenty; another one wasn’t going to change anything. 

“Thank you. I’m sorry if I scared you.” Mingyu’s words cause you to scoff. Moving to your feet, you carefully discard the items you used before making your way to the sink to scrub your hands. He had no idea how much he had scared you and how much it frightened you that you felt anything about it. “Comes with the job. I mean, not all the time. Shit happened tonight. I didn’t mean—” 

Lifting your hands, you look up at Mingyu and shake your head, watching his mouth close, his explanation go unfinished. “I’m not sure I want the specifics. I’m just glad you aren’t any more hurt than this. When I saw the blood—” Letting out a breath, you turn off the sink and lean over the counter, looking down at the white quartz countertop under your fingers. “I know you are used to getting hurt, but it scared the shit out of me, Mingyu.” 

The bile that Mingyu felt after seeing what he had done to Eunseok churns in his stomach once again as you speak. His eyes move over your pretty face as you look at the countertop, as if it will ground you. This was why he didn’t get too close to people. If he got hurt or killed, no one would care. No one should care. Why would you care? But if you got hurt, the idea of it—thinking about you hurting like he was tonight—made Mingyu want to scream.

“Well, I’m fine, baby. You patched me up, and if you think I look bad, should’a seen the other guy.” It was a bad attempt at de-escalating the situation and Mingyu knew it. He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Shaking his head, Mingyu looks down at his blood stained fingers as you take a sharp breath, seeming to realize the magnitude of the situation. Mingyu had been shot. Someone had to have been firing that gun. What had happened to the one holding it? 

“What about the other guy, Mingyu?” Moving around the kitchen island, you wait for Mingyu to answer you, but instead he stands up and winces at the way the muscle in his arm pulls. Shaking his head, he avoids your eyes, looking towards the hallway, before bringing his hand up to his lips to start to wipe them, only to smell the copper and stop. “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to take a shower and get some sleep. Thanks again, Doc.” 

Leaning his head back into the stream of water, Mingyu sighs, feeling the stress of the day weighing on him. He had thought that things were getting better. You had been a great distraction for a bit, but today was a painful reminder that his life wasn’t going to change. The pain radiating down into his fingertips was enough of a sign that this was all he was going to get. 

There was a reason that Mingyu was the way he was. He didn’t speak to his family. He didn’t keep women around for more than a night. The friends he had were all in the same line of business as he was and he wasn’t sure if things came to push or shove or if some of them would take a bullet for him. Mingyu was good at keeping people at a distance and it was for a good reason. 

You had been in his life for less than a week; barely anything had happened between the two of you, and already Mingyu was stressed over you getting hurt. He didn’t want to hurt you or be the cause of it. That had been the main reason he had gone after Eunseok the way he had. If Eunseok hadn’t seen your name, maybe Mingyu would have come back to the penthouse and called it a night. Maybe he could have let everything go, but seeing that smirk on the man’s lips and thinking of a dozen things that could happen to you had sent him over the edge. 

Leaning his forehead against the shower wall, Mingyu runs his tongue over his lips, collecting the water from them as he curses himself mentally. What would you think he told you about why he had killed a person tonight? What would you think if you really understood that he had killed someone? You’d be terrified of him, and rightfully so, but that was Mingyu’s life. That was this life that Jun was trying to keep you from. 

Hitting his head lightly against the tile as he groans, having made up his mind, Mingyu stands at his full height and reaches over to turn off the shower with more force than necessary. Things had been fun while they lasted but if he was going to keep you safe—safe from him—he needed to distance himself from you. Jun would be back in another week and you would be out of his hair. He just needed to do the bare minimum and keep you out of trouble. You weren’t important to him. 

Even thinking the lie made Mingyu feel sick to his stomach as he swiped his hand across the mirror, wiping the condensation from it. His eyes move to his arm and your careful work. While he was in pain, Mingyu knew it could be much worse. He had been in worse situations before, with hack-job doctors patching him up, leaving him with infections. Being careful not to touch the stitches, Mingyu furrows his brows as he runs his fingers along his bicep and sighs your name under his breath as if it will make his plan any easier. 

A towel around his waist, Mingyu pushes the door to his bathroom open, still going over what he’s going to say to you once he’s dressed, only to stop in his tracks when he sees you sitting on his bed. Every thought of pushing you away almost instantaneously slips from his mind when you give him a sad smile, lifting your shoulders as your eyes move over his body finally landing on his arm. 

“I wanna wrap your arm. You need to keep it clean and dry.” Looking down at the gauze in your hand, you try not to focus on how Mingyu’s body makes you feel, because in that moment, it’s not why you are there. You had come to his room to help him and to tell him something important; it wasn’t your fault that he was wet and almost naked. Clearing your throat, you nod, still looking at your hands and listening to the sound of Mingyu’s feet on the wood floor as you speak. “And I wanted to apologize for what I asked earlier. It’s not my place to question your job. I know you are doing your best. Mingyu—” 

Fingers slide along your jaw and the heel of Mingyu’s hand lifts, tilting your head up towards him as he stands next to the bed in front of you. You can see the sadness in his eyes and it makes you want to question him, but instead you just whine his name one more time, breaking his resolve completely. There was no staying away from you, no doing the bare minimum—that was the stupidest idea Mingyu had ever thought of. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of your soft lips against his as he leaned over you. 

Your fingers flex in the air before you reach for something in front of you, one hand finding Mingyu’s waist and the other his forearm. The feeling of his damp skin under your hands grounds you and reminds you why you were there in the first place, giving you the strength to pull back from the kiss even as Mingyu chases your lips. “Wait, no, I want it. Please, Mingyu… I want this. I just—let me wrap your arm first. Okay, baby?” 

Baby. Hearing that name on your lips causes Mingyu to shudder, his mouth falling open as he nods silently. You tug gently on his arm, bringing him towards the bed, feeling shy under his intense gaze. Your touch is gentle as you work the gauze around Mingyu’s bicep a few times, covering the wound completely. Mingyu smirks to himself, watching how your brows crease in the middle when you concentrate, being careful to place the medical tape in the right places before finally meeting his eyes. 

“Am I allowed to kiss you now? Can I move?” You make an unsure sound at Mingyu’s question even as he takes the roll of tape from your hands and puts it on the nightstand beside you. “I—yes, but you have to be careful, and... take these first.” Dodging another kiss, you listen to Mingyu groan in frustration as you swipe two pills from the nightstand and offer them to him along with a glass of water. 

“What are they?” Furrowing his brows as he looks at the pills in your palm, Mingyu extends his own hand for you to drop them into before popping them into your mouth without hearing the explanation first. “Vicodin… I don’t have a lot with me, but I keep a few things... just in case.” 

Taking a gulp of the water, Mingyu nods along with your words, feeling grateful. He knew he would have had his own way of coping with pain, but your way seemed safer in hindsight. Letting you take the glass of water back, Mingyu tilts his head, waiting for you to stop him once again, but a small smile on your lips causes one to pull on his own. Using his left hand, Mingyu wraps it around your waist and tugs you down in bed, relishing in the sound of your surprised breath as he leans over your body and smiles against your lips. 

“Be careful… don’t pop your stitches.” Lightly running your fingers along Mingyu’s right arm, you stay away from the end of the gauze as Mingyu moves his lips to your jaw, speaking between kisses. “‘M fine. I don’t need that arm for this. Just need your clothes off.” 

Your mind felt clouded from the moment that Mingyu’s lips were on your skin. You couldn’t think of anything other than him. You were enjoying the warmth of his breath on your neck, the way his nails scratched at your skin as he pulled your clothes from your body, and how big he felt against your thigh under his towel. 

Tracing his side, you arch your back as Mingyu’s lips brush over your nipple, his teeth catching the bud between them with a groan. Your fingers push into the top of the towel wrapped around Mingyu’s waist and a soft chuckle against your breast tells you everything that you need to know. Glancing down at where the towel had once been, Mingyu shakes his head and tosses it to the ground, letting you feel his leaking cock against your skin. 

“If you wanted my cock out all you had to do was tell me, sweetheart.” Your eyes fall to where you feel Mingyu rut against your leg and your lips fall open in a soft moan at the sight. He was perfect. Everything about him. From his face, to his body, to his cock… he was everything you wanted in a lover. “Oh my god, Mingyu. Let me ride you.” 

That hadn’t been what Mingyu had expected. Smirking, he presses a soft kiss on your chest as he meets your eyes and tilts his head. “Yeah, that’s what you want? You don’t want me to fuck you into the mattress?�� Whining, you lean your head back, trying to escape his eyes, only for Mingyu to reach up with his left hand to tilt your head back towards him before he works his kisses along your stomach, downwards. “Asked you a question, pretty girl.” 

Lifting your hips, you whimper, feeling Mingyu’s breath fanning across your folds as he moves your legs apart so he can rest between them. Putting one leg over his left shoulder, the other bent up and resting to the side, he keeps his eyes on you as he runs his index finger through your wet folds, waiting patiently for you to speak. 

“Yes… I mean—fuck, Mingyu. Can’t I ride you tonight? You can have me anyway you want later. Rest your arm. Let me sit on it.” The more you speak, the more embarrassed you get, and your voice gets meeker and meeker. You watch as Mingyu’s smirk spreads into a grin and he leans to press a kiss on your inner thigh before nipping lightly at the soft skin. 

“Mmkay, angel. You can sit on my dick, but first I gotta make sure you even can.” Before you can speak, question him about what you already know he’s going to do. Mingyu runs his tongue in a long stripe from your dripping hole to your clit with a groan. Choking back a moan, you grab at the comforter under you, getting flashbacks at how hard he had made you cum at breakfast with his tongue. 

“Please, please, please...” Mingyu wasn’t sure what you were begging for, but he wanted to give it to you. He didn’t want to make you wait for an orgasm tonight because, in his mind, that only prolonged his and he was already leaking obscenely as he rocked his hips against the bed under him. The sound of you moaning his name alone was enough to make him feel like he was going to cum, but this time he was determined to feel your pussy around his cock. 

Working two fingers into you, Mingyu pulls back from your soaked folds to watch your mouth fall open with a silent gasp at the intrusion. You were so tight that even two fingers were stretching you out. He was bigger than two of his fingers, and you were making his mind spin with how you were fucking yourself on them, begging for more. 

“Yeah? More? Fuck, you are such a pretty little slut. Taking my fingers so good in this tight cunt. What if I—” Pushing a third in beside the first two, Mingyu groans, resting his forehead against your thigh when your moan raises an octave, your walls closing around his fingers like a vice. “That’s my girl… Want you to cum for me. You want my cock? You better cum for me.” 

Throwing your head back against the pillows, you scream Mingyu’s name as your orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave. Even if Mingyu hadn’t told you to cum for him the moment his fingers had filled you the way they had, you were a goner. He seemed to know what made you tick and exactly what to do to make you fall apart, and he did it so well. 

Chuckling under his breath, Mingyu brushes his lips along your jaw before pressing a kiss to your lips and nodding to the feeling of your cum soaking his fingers. After a few more thrusts of his fingers, he carefully slides them away from you and groans to the feeling of your body trying to suck them back in. “You are so fucking greedy, angel. What are you doing to me?” 

Shaking your head, you whine out Mingyu’s name, trying to answer his question, but you don't know the answer. You weren’t necessarily trying to do anything to him, you just wanted him more than anyone you had ever wanted in your entire life. Groaning on your lips, Mingyu trails his wet fingers along your hip to your side, pushing you down on the bed until you push at his chest, making him laugh. You were persistent. 

“I know, baby. I promised. It’s yours.” Licking his lips, Mingyu turns to roll from laying on top of you to resting beside you, adjusting a pillow behind his head. When you meet his eyes, you can’t help but roll your eyes at how cocky he looks. You watch as he licks his fingers clean of your cum and smiles around them, lifting his brows as he waits for you to get moving. 

“You are insufferable.” Mingyu laughs at your words, his eyes moving along your body as you move to your knees and slide one leg over his thighs so you can sit over them. Even he had to admit that it was a beautiful fucking view. He could feel his cock jerk and leak from just the sight of you; he couldn’t imagine what he was going to do once he was inside of you. “Yeah? Maybe, but you are the one who’s gonna be sitting on my cock.” 

Mingyu’s fingers slide along your thighs as he smirks up at you. He looked too good to be true, lying somewhat impatiently under you. It was almost unfair how perfect he could look even with the gauze wrapped around his arm, a bit of crimson seeping through from movement. Grabbing his right hand, you pin it to the bed gently as you shake your head and wrap your other hand around the shaft of his cock, stroking him slowly. “Keep this arm down.” 

Groaning, Mingyu lifts his hips towards your hand and flexes the fingers of his right hand, tightening them into a fist as he grips at your thigh with his left. He both loved and hated this. He loved your hands on him, but he wanted to be inside of you so badly that he wanted to put you back on your back. He wanted to have you on his cock and screaming his name, but instead you had him whining yours. 

“Fu—fuck. Don’t tease. I haven’t… I didn’t tease you tonight. Said you wanted to ride me, so ride it.” Mingyu’s strained words have your eyebrows lifting in surprise. Pre-cum was running along your fingers with each stroke of your hand and you were beginning to wonder if you kept doing this for too long if he’d cum. From the sounds leaving his lips, you were almost certain he would. 

Moving to your knees, you press your hand to the center of Mingyu’s chest as you use the other to keep his cock exactly where you want him. Your eyes never leave his face as you slowly take him inch by inch until you are sitting flush against his hips, your mouth falling open in a soft moan. 

Mingyu tried to keep his hands down and do what you had told him to do, but the moment he was inside of you—feeling you around him for the first time—he felt like his brain was going to explode. Hands grab at your waist as Mingyu groans, trying to sit up and move you over him, desperate to get some relief. 

“Why can’t you do what I told you? Be good, Gyu.” Your words were driving him insane. You had to know what you were doing. Your soft fingers trail over Mingyu’s arm, putting his hand back on the bed next to him as your other hand slides up his chest, forcing him back down on the bed. 

Rolling your hips down over Mingyu, you have to close your eyes and take a breath, feeling just how much his cock is stretching you. You knew he was big. There was no way you hadn’t noticed, but seeing it and feeling it was different. There was so much about Mingyu that you were getting used to and you were becoming addicted to the feeling. 

“I just—fuck, Y/N. Feel so fuckin’ good. Ride me, baby. Bounce on my cock, huh? You are squeezing the hell out of me.” You knew you were doing it even before Mingyu told you. No matter how much you tried to relax, it was hard to do as you felt him rutting his hips up towards yours. 

Bracing yourself with one hand on Mingyu’s chest and the other holding his left hand, you nod and fall back to your knees, lifting yourself up before sitting back down. The feeling is overwhelming in all the best ways. You can feel how deep Mingyu is inside of you. You can feel the pressure building in your lower abdomen and rising even towards your chest as tears coat your eyes. 

Mingyu furrows his brows, his eyes fixed on your face, as you get into a rhythm moving over his cock. Each time your ass meets his thighs, he thrusts his hips up hard, listening to you cry out in pleasure. 

“Please, it feels so good, Mingyu. I need to cum.” The words are almost spoken on a sob as you start to slow down, getting tired. Mingyu can tell you are frustrated not only by getting tired but also by your desire. Using his left arm, he wraps it around your waist and flips you on your back, reaching between the two of you to push his cock back into you in one fluid motion. 

Surprised, you reach for Mingyu’s right arm, only for him to pin your hand to the bed with his right hand and thrust into you hard and deep. “I’m fine… just need you to cum on my cock. That’d make me feel better. Wouldn’t it make you feel better, angel?” 

Nodding, tears running from your eyes towards your temples, you whine Mingyu’s name as his thrusts become urgent, almost desperate, pushing you over the edge. Lips find your throat, a deep groan of pleasure leaves Mingyu’s throat as he slips from you and you feel warm, sticky cum spill from him on to your stomach. 

Running your fingers through Mingyu’s hair, you lick your lips while trying to catch your breath, feeling him do the same in the crook of your neck. It takes a few minutes before he finally sits back and his eyes move along the length of your body, finally resting on your stomach, where his cum paints your body. 

Shaking his head, Mingyu doesn’t even try to hide his smirk as he pushes his index finger through the cum, spreading it over your skin and enjoying seeing it on you. “That feels gross.” Chuckling under his breath at your complaint, Mingyu lifts his brows, dragging his finger up towards your breast, stopping short and moving his eyes to yours. “But you look so fucking sexy covered in my cum, sweetheart. Almost hate to wash it off of you.” 

Lowering your eyes to where his fingers rest on your ribs, you let out a faux annoyed sound that makes Mingyu laugh once again, his lips meeting yours as you smile, speaking between gentle kisses. “Then I guess you’ll just have to fuck me more often, Kim Mingyu…” 

With a gentle nip at your bottom lip, Mingyu pulls back to look down at you once more before finally moving to stand at the side of the bed and reaching for his discarded towel. You suck in your stomach at the feeling of his fingers pushing against it, cleaning his cum from your body so delicately as he purses his lips. “Maybe I will.” 

Despite pain being what wakes him up first, Mingyu finds himself staring at you as you lay facing him in the low light of the bedroom. It didn’t matter if he felt like shit; if his arm felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, he still managed to turn on his side and lift his left arm so that he could carefully touch you. 

In Mingyu’s opinion, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life. You made him jealous of the sun as it slowly creeped along your exposed skin. He couldn’t help but give in to his temptation, gently following the light with his fingers as he walked them along your skin. You made him wish for more; you made him wish for this… Things that seemed so far from what he knew. Life with you seemed like it could be so simple and more importantly, it seemed so warm. Mingyu had never felt so warm. 

All of those feelings are ripped away from him by the sound of his cell phone vibrating on the nightstand. It wouldn’t be his mom or his dad. It wouldn’t be his sister or an aunt calling to ask if he was having a good day; there were only a few people it could be and as he turned over to pick it up, the searing pain in his arm and blood staining the sheets from where it had leaked through the gauze reminded Mingyu even more that his life wasn’t simple and warm. He was cold and impossible. This with you was an impossible, stupid, childish dream, and Mingyu needed to wake up. 

Giving one more lingering look at you lying peacefully in bed, Mingyu grabs his phone from the nightstand, a pair of pants from a chair, and moves into the living room. “Yeah?” 

That wasn’t how Minghao expected or wanted Mingyu to answer his call, but it didn’t surprise him. Nothing did anymore. At least he was alive, even if he did sound worse for wear. “So you do know how to pick up the phone. What the fuck were you thinking?” 

Sitting down on the couch, Mingyu glances over at his arm, his brows knitted together at not only Minghao’s nagging, but also the feeling of the gauze sticking to his stitches. Pulling at the tape, he sighs and balances the phone on his left shoulder as he unwraps his arm, realizing he had forgotten to call Minghao the night before. “I just got busy—” 

“Fuck you. I know exactly what you were doing.” At first, Mingyu wonders if Minghao knows about you and him, but when Minghao continues, it’s even worse. “Lucky for you, the dumb ass cops in that district actually believe it’s a mugging gone wrong. At least you aren’t a complete fuckin’ idiot.” 

Wadding the gauze up in his hand, Mingyu leans his head back and lets out a longer sigh. Minghao was worse than a parent when things happened that weren’t ideal. No, killing Eunseok wasn’t ideal, but it had happened and now, in Mingyu’s mind, at least the cops weren’t looking for him. At least they didn’t think it was linked to the lounge. "Well, thanks; it means a lot coming from you. Sorry I inconvenienced you, Hao.” 

Minghao had heard of Mingyu’s pity parties and been there for his mental breakdowns, but this one was the worst. Lifting his hand to the bridge of his nose, Minghao shakes his head and sighs. The call suddenly becomes quiet, causing Mingyu to shift on the couch anxiously. As much as he put on a brave face and stood up to Minghao, he still didn’t want him to be that disappointed in him; he didn’t want to cause major problems. 

“It—look…I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t fix it. I can’t really fucking fix it. It happened so fucking fast.” Mingyu knew he was rambling, but the self loathing that he always felt was bubbling to the surface. He felt the disappointment even through the phone. “He shot me and I reacted—” 

“He shot you? What the fuck? Are you okay? I fuckin’ told you to call me Mingyu!” Hearing the sound of Minghao moving around, grabbing keys, and god knows what else, Mingyu sits up, his voice strained as he tries to calm his friend down. “I’m fine! A bad graze, but... it’s fine. I should have called. You don’t have to come here. I can come to you if you want.” 

Stopping in the doorway of his apartment, Minghao narrows his eyes and grips the doorframe tightly as he sighs and takes a step backwards. “You need to get one of Jun’s guys to look at it. You can’t just hold it together with shitty tape like you tried to do with your leg—” 

“I’m not! Y/N…” Minghao has to listen even closer to hear Mingyu when he speaks softer, his volume dropping almost to a whisper, as if he’s afraid you might hear him. “Y/N, she stitched it up.” 

Minghao isn’t sure if that is better or worse. The fact that a doctor—a real hands to god doctor—had taken care of him but that same doctor was you. You had seen some of the worst parts of what he and Jun tried to keep from you. Mingyu was reckless and stupid. “She’s supposed to be kept away from this shit, Mingyu. Remember that? Or is that something you forgot, like keeping your dick in your pants?” 

Leaning forward, Mingyu rests his head in his hand. The words should have made him mad, but after waking up and having his own coming to Jesus moment, he knew that Minghao was right. “I know. I fucked up. She’s too good for this, she’s way too good to be messed up with a piece of shit like me.” 

There was truth to Mingyu’s words, but there was also a lot of self loathing mixed in that made Minghao even more pissed off and concerned about him. It wasn’t that he wanted Mingyu with you, but he also didn’t think that he was the biggest piece of shit that you had ever had the misfortune to lock lips with. There were worse choices, even if this choice was a walking headache at the moment. 

“She is good. She’s too good for all of us, Jun included, but that doesn’t mean—” Mingyu listens to Minghao sigh loudly, cutting himself off. “Nevermind, lay low. I don’t want you in or around the bar for a while.” 

The last thing that Mingyu wanted to do was avoid the bar. He wanted to keep his mind busy and not dwell on what had happened, but even as he starts to argue, Minghao is quick to shut him down. “I’m not asking! Jun left me in charge, so you’ll do as I say. If the cops come snoopin’ around, I don’t need your big dumb ass here.” 

Of course, Minghao would pull the ‘I’m in charge’ card now. Mingyu knew he was right, it would be stupid to go to the last place that he and Eunseok were seen together, but it wasn’t like him to hide. Groaning under his breath, Mingyu nods before sitting up and letting out a deep breath. “Fine. Whatever you want.” 

Minghao hated benching Mingyu; he needed him at the bar in reality, but he had done this to himself and now he had to clean up the mess. “Glad you understand. I’ll call you later.” 

You smile softly, feeling warmth on your hip and walking along your side. In your head, you picture Mingyu’s fingers causing that warm feeling. You can see him lying beside you, his eyes moving along your body as you slowly wake up, but when you open your eyes, you only see a bit of blood on the white sheet where he had been. Your smile is quickly replaced by a look of concern as you sit up and look around the room for him, only to see a pair of pants you had seen yesterday missing from a chair. 

Running your hands along your arms, you realize how cold the room suddenly feels without him. One more look at the splotches of blood tells you his gauze needs to be changed out and his stitches checked, but maybe he was taking care of something. Looking for your cell phone, you grab it from the nightstand and furrow your brows at a missed call from Jun. It had been a few days since he had checked in, and you find yourself missing him. The trip had originally been to see him and catch up, but the timing had been off. 

Glancing down the hall, you hear Mingyu’s voice low and a bit tense as he talks to someone on the phone. Wanting to give him time and privacy, you turn towards your bedroom and put your phone on the nightstand, hitting Jun’s name and putting it on speaker phone so you can talk to him and get dressed at the same time. 

“Sleeping in late on your impromptu vacation?” At first, Jun’s voice makes you smile until you hear the strain in it. There was a layer of anxiety that you could pick up on even in another country or through a phone call. “A little bit... what’s wrong?” 

Jun wanted to be in the pool with his fiancée. He wanted to be enjoying the island and getting drunk, but instead this afternoon he was trying not to rip his hair out. “Just wanting to check on my sister. Is that a crime? I miss you.” 

While you could believe most of what Jun was telling you, the way his voice sounded kept you on edge as you pursed your lips and pulled a pair of jeans up your legs. “I miss you too. How’s your vacation? How’s Haneul?” 

Jun watches the sun move across the water as Haneul moves through it with a smile on her face, unaware of the situation, just as he likes it. Meeting her eyes for a moment, Jun winks at his pretty fiancée before leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “She’s perfect. The island is nice. You should have just met us here; there’d be less idiotic temptation.” 

Rolling your eyes, you scoff at hearing what you think is the main reason why Jun sounds like he does. Obviously, he had heard something about you and Mingyu. Your scoff doesn’t go unnoticed by your brother, who lifts his brows and lets out his own scoff before starting to scold you. “I told you to be good while I was gone. You insisted on this trip even though you knew I wasn’t going to be there. I knew leaving you with that whore was a mistake.” 

Hearing Jun call Mingyu a whore makes you stop what you are doing as you laugh at how ridiculous it sounds. Tugging your shirt down your torso, you shake your head before looking up at the ceiling and starting to tell him as much when Jun speaks first. “I know it sounds funny, Y/N, but I’m not kidding, okay? He goes through women faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. He’s not good for you. He’s dangerous.” 

Jun telling you that anyone was dangerous also seemed like a joke, but you had spent the night before putting stitches into Mingyu’s arm, so you knew there was a layer of truth to it. Swallowing hard, you look back down at your hands, shaking your head once more. “Jun—I… come on. He’s so sweet—” 

“So he can get in your pants, Y/N! Use that smart brain of yours. Have your fun, but know that he’s not serious and he really is dangerous. I’m not joking about that.” You try to come up with the right words to tell Jun that you don’t care, that you aren’t afraid of Mingyu, and that he can change. But feeling eyes on you from the doorway, you turn to meet Mingyu’s gaze. The look in his eyes is disappointed but resigned and it breaks your heart. 

“I gotta go.” Jun tries to argue with you, telling you that he needs to know that you understand, but you are quick to end the call, watching Mingyu shake his head and turn from your room, moving towards his own. “Mingyu! He’s–where are you going? Don’t worry about what Jun says. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Mingyu knew you’d say something like that. You were a good person, a sweet girl, but your brother was right. Grabbing a shirt, Mingyu pulls it over his head and runs his fingers through his hair as he hears you move into the room behind him. “You should listen to him. He’s my boss for a reason. I’m trouble, just like he said.” 

Reaching out for him, you get your hand around his waist only to feel his shirt slip from your fingers as Mingyu scoffs and sidesteps out of your grasp. “Y/N, grow up. If last night, seeing that shit didn’t prove it to you, you must be fuckin’ stupid.” 

Turning to face you, Mingyu isn’t surprised to see a shocked look on your face at hearing him call you stupid. His words bite at your confidence, but mostly at your heart. You can see the look in Mingyu’s eyes—how he is trying to push you away by hurting you—and it only makes your heart hurt worse. 

“Stop it. Why—no, I’m not stupid. I know who you are. Don’t do this, Gyu.” You sound so desperate and almost like you are in love with him that Mingyu’s chest feels like it’s going to implode. He wants to give into you, pull you into his arms and tell you how sorry he is for calling you stupid, but that isn’t how to fix this. He had to keep you safe, and safe is as far away from him as possible. 

“Do what? Tell a little girl the truth. Wake the fuck up, sweetheart. Use those brains you claim to have. I got fuckin’ shot yesterday. You think that’s a one time thing?” Watching tears coat your eyes, Mingyu takes a step towards you, even as you take one backward. “You think you are special? Like you are the only girl I’ve fucked? Nah, another notch in my belt.” 

Mingyu’s words are like a gut punch and as much as you know he is trying to hurt you, he is succeeding. Once he has walked you out into the hallway, Mingyu gives you one last look. The pain of seeing tears running down your cheeks is unbearable, but he keeps himself stone faced as you follow him into the living room, watching him pull on his damaged leather jacket, wincing in pain. “Where are you going? Do you think it’s a good idea to go out?” 

Speaking between sniffing back tears, you aren’t even sure Mingyu hears you as he shoves his gun into the holster on his side until he gives you a passing glance. Shrugging, he grabs his keys, shoves them into his pocket and lets out a deep sigh. “Who gives a fuck?” 

Sitting at the bar of the Dovetail Casino, Mingyu taps the glass in front of him to signal to the pretty bartender to fill it back up. He was on his fourth drink and had no intention of slowing down. Beside him, Jeon Wonwoo watches as Mingyu’s phone goes off for the umpteenth time. Someone was trying to get into him desperately and clearly Mingyu had no intention of picking it up as he once again reached over to decline the call. 

“Don’t wanna talk to Y/N?” Scoffing at hearing your name on the lawyer’s lips, Mingyu rolls his eyes and smiles at the bartender as she fills his glass up with whiskey once more. “You shouldn’t read other people’s phones. Don’t they teach that in lawyer school?” 

While Wonwoo didn’t know who you exactly were, it didn’t really matter; you clearly mattered to Mingyu, and the two of you were having a fight of some sort. He had been a lawyer long enough to recognize that, though anyone with eyes could probably tell that Mingyu was getting drunk for a reason. “Girlfriend?” 

Shooting Wonwoo a dirty look, Mingyu tips his glass back, ice meeting his lips, slowing down how quickly the alcohol can pour into his mouth, but only by a slight margin. The sound of the glass hitting the wooden bar makes Wonwoo hiss, knowing he was either on the right track or he had hit a nerve. 

“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just some stupid girl with some idea of me that she’s made up in her head. She thinks she’ll get some white picket fence with me.” Gesturing towards himself, Mingyu scoffs and Wonwoo gives his friend a once over sigh, knowing what he is trying to say as Mingyu continues. “She’s an idiot to be so fucking smart and beautiful…” 

Wonwoo brings his own glass to his lips, nursing it much slower than Mingyu was. Mingyu was already getting drunk, while Wonwoo was barely filling a buzz. Wonwoo could see what was happening even if Mingyu didn’t want to. Just from the brief description of you that he had gotten, he knew that Mingyu was full of shit. You might not “be his girlfriend,” but that didn’t stop Mingyu from being into you. 

“Why is it bothering you so much? This is the girl you’ve been watching.” Watching Mingyu nod and look at his now empty glass, Wonwoo sighs as Mingyu lifts his hand, asking for a fifth drink. “Just have Minghao take over. It’s that easy, right? Then you don’t have to be with her all the fucking time.” 

It could be that easy, but hearing Wonwoo say it made Mingyu want to throw up. Maybe it was all the whiskey on an empty stomach, but Mingyu didn’t want anyone else watching over you. He didn’t care if Minghao was like family to you; he had been asked to do this and he wasn’t going to just give up.

“What—no. Just admit I’m a failure. Do I look like a fuckin’ failure to you?” Hearing Wonwoo sigh, Mingyu looks back down at his empty glass, the ice melting, wishing the bartender would be a bit quicker about filling it up. “She leaves next week.” His words are quieter than they had been the entire time the two had been sitting at the bar. 

He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but he hated the idea of you getting on that plane. He hated that you were sitting at home pissed off at him and worse, he had made you sad. Yes, he had done it on purpose, but he had his reasons. If you were mad at him, if you distanced yourself from him, it would be easier to watch you leave him. 

Nodding, Wonwoo furrows his brows, seeing the pain on Mingyu’s face as the bartender tells Mingyu he’s reached his limit and she won't give him another for a while. It was for the best, he could tell Mingyu didn’t need anything else to drink; he was staring at the empty glass like it was a life preserver, even though the alcohol that had been in it was only helping him to sink further. Wonwoo understood the feeling better than Mingyu probably realized. 

“My advice, whether you want it or not, get your shit together. Don’t lose her because of your pride and because you think you know best.” Furrowing his brows, Mingyu glances over at Wonwoo, trying to figure out how he’d know so much about what he was thinking about, but the look on his friend’s face, the pain written in his eyes make him stop and just listen. “Trust me, I understand something about losing someone who means so much to you. Wishing you could go back and change who you were… Don’t fuck it up like me.” 

Mingyu wants to ask what happened, who Wonwoo had lost, but he watches as Wonwoo tips his drink back, draining it before putting it back down on the bar with a sigh. He had never seen Wonwoo look so sad and stuck in the past before and he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to again. 

Digging the spoon out of the ice cream once again, you bring it to your lips as you sniff back your tears, your eyes not really focusing on what is on the television in front of you. After Mingyu had left, you had resorted to a bottle of wine and a pint of ice cream while sitting on your bed and trying to become one with it. 

You had been through plenty of breakups in the past, but Mingyu’s words hurt you worse than any other man’s ever had. You knew he had been trying to hurt you and you also knew he was full of shit. He didn’t really mean it, even if he was trying so hard to convince himself that he did. For some reason, he wanted you to hate him and the longer you sat in bed, the ice cream in your lap disappeared. You felt like it was a possibility. 

But as much as you wanted to give into that feeling, just hate him, you could still feel how good it felt to be in his arms. To feel his lips and fingers on your skin as he made you feel comfortable and safe. So instead of hate, you just felt depressed. You were beginning to wonder if you should look at available flights to leave early. 

Standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall, Mingyu watches you pout into your glass of wine before you follow the sip with a bite of ice cream. You were adorable as you paid more attention to what was on your phone, sniffing back your emotions, than you did to whatever you had playing on the television.  

He knew he should just make a right into his room and leave you alone, but all Mingyu can hear are Wonwoo’s words echoing in his mind. ‘Don’t fuck it up like me.’ You drove him crazy. No other woman had made Mingyu feel like this. He knows he could keep lying to you, keep making you cry and watch you get on that plane in a week, but just the thought of it makes Mingyu’s stomach churn. 

Taking one step after another, Mingyu moves into your bedroom, drawing your eyes up from your phone to him. You can’t help the surprised look on your face as he reaches for the remote, turns the television off and tosses the remote into the chair without a second glance. “Mingyu…” Your voice is soft, confused, and full of hurt. The sound of it breaks Mingyu’s heart and his resolve as he takes the ice cream out of your lap and puts it on the nightstand with your wine before sliding his hand along the side of your face and pressing his lips against yours. 

The kiss isn’t rushed and it is so different from every other kiss that you and Mingyu have shared up to that moment. Mingyu’s tongue glides along yours as you moan softly into the deep kiss, your fingers grabbing at his jacket, tears already running down your cheeks as your emotions get the better of you. Leaning back, Mingyu brushes his thumbs over your cheeks, then presses kisses on each one before standing up to his full height and taking his clothes off piece by piece before repeating the process with you. 

You feel your head spin once his lips are back on yours and your back is on the mattress. Mingyu’s body pressed against yours. He groaned into your mouth, feeling your hand slide along his hip towards his cock before leaning back to wrap his hand around yours, bringing your fingers to his lips. 

“Just let me...” The sentence seems unfinished, but you nod, feeling Mingyu’s fingers slide along your forearm as his lips find your jaw and work to your neck, leaving you breathless. He had kissed you before. You had felt his lips almost all over your body, but this was different. He was almost worshiping your body this time and he wasn’t in a rush. 

It was as if Mingyu was seeing you—really seeing you for the first time. He was taking the time to touch every mole or scar on your body and then kiss it before meeting your eyes when you sighed out his name. If Mingyu hadn’t been addicted to you before this, now there was no way he could deny it. 

“Fuck, you are so beautiful. Sound so pretty for me. Wanna… just—” Mingyu was talking to you—or more so, he was talking at you as he worked his kisses along your leg and towards your inner thigh. When his lips meet your wet, soft folds, you lift your hips off the bed and Mingyu groans quietly, gently pushing you back down. Any other time he would have pinned you to the bed and devoured you but this time his touch was gentle; you were floating from it and the feeling of his tongue circling your clit. 

It doesn’t take long before your thighs are closed around Mingyu’s head, his groans muffled as his hands grip your hips, holding you close to him until you fall apart on his tongue. When your legs start to tremble, you let out a sob of Mingyu’s name, your fingers running through his hair as you push your hips into the bed, asking for mercy. Smiling against your now swollen folds, Mingyu presses one more kiss on your pussy before pushing himself up on the bed with his left arm to watch you try to catch your breath, coming down from your orgasm. 

“Taste so good, baby. I could do that all damn night.” Shaking your head, you reach for Mingyu, whining as he laughs and moves up in bed between your legs. His lips once again find your neck and you try to continue to come down from your orgasm, but when Mingyu nips at your skin, you moan his name, making him smile. “Love hearing my name on your lips so fuckin’ much. Wanna hear it all the time. Can I?” 

At first, you aren’t sure if he’s asking for you to say his name again or something else, but his fingers brushing through your sensitive folds before he does the same with the head of his cock makes you understand. He hadn’t asked any other time; why this time? Did it even matter why? It seemed to matter to your heart as your chest tightened when you nodded and whispered out your pleas for him to get inside of you. 

Carefully pushing the head of his cock into you, Mingyu closes his eyes and groans to the feeling of your warmth pulling him in. He feels the urge to just bury himself into you in one hard thrust, but instead he prolongs it. Meeting your eyes, he watches your mouth fall open in a moan as slowly, inch by inch, he pushes into your walls, letting them hug him tight. “Holy shit. That’s my girl. Holding me like you don’t wanna let me go, huh?” 

You didn’t. You never wanted him to leave you, both in bed and in your life. You loved the way he was looking at you. You loved the way he was kissing you and the way he was making love to you. Every other time he had fucked you, this was making love. Even if he probably wouldn’t admit it, you knew the difference and you knew that he did too. 

Mingyu’s forearms rest under your arms, his hands on either of your shoulders as he presses his forehead to yours. Each one of his thrusts is deep, powerful, but slow, as if he wants hours of you in this bed. Nudging his nose against yours, Mingyu smiles, hearing your choked moans as he pushes one of his knees into the mattress, changing the angle of his thrusts so that his cock perfectly rubs against that spot with each movement. “All I want is one more. Just love making you feel good, angel. Love hearing you sing for me, feeling you all over my cock.” 

There was dirty talk and then there was Kim Mingyu’s dirty talk. He could be almost lewd at times, but this was completely different. He had made your skin feel like it was on fire—calling you a whore or a slut, but this—loving everything about you, wanting to hear you sing for him, making you feel good? This was pushing you over the edge, possibly even more than the feeling of his cock brushing against your g-spot over and over again. 

Scratching at Mingyu’s sides, you tighten your legs around his hips, feeling the pressure that had been building in your abdomen give way. Your orgasm rips through you and Mingyu can barely move with how tightly your walls close around him. Gasping into a groan, he tries to get a full breath and keep himself from losing control. 

Trying to pull from you to keep himself from cumming inside of you, Mingyu meets your eyes, sees the pout on your lips and feels your legs hold him tighter. You didn’t want him to pull out. He never came inside of girls. That was another one of his rules, a way to keep himself from catching feelings or any trouble, but with one more deep thrust, Mingyu breaks that rule. 

Groaning your name against your lips, Mingyu is the one who feels like he’s losing his mind with how good it feels to be inside you and to feel your warm, soft walls around him as his cums. He loved seeing his cum on you, but this was special. It’s like you were made for him and made to take everything he gave you. 

Running your fingers through Mingyu’s hair, you close your eyes, letting him rest his cheek against your shoulder. Both of you slowly come down from your euphoric highs. A smile pulls at your lips when you feel your lips press against your throat and Mingyu’s hands slide from under you so he can carefully pull from you and look down at you. 

“Was—is that okay? What happened?” You could see the concern written in Mingyu’s eyes. Lifting your hand, you brush your thumb over his cheek and feel your chest once again tighten as he rests his face in your palm, waiting for you to answer him. “Of course it was. I wanted it. I wouldn’t have let you if I wasn’t on birth control and sure, Mingyu.” 

Taking a deep breath of relief, Mingyu nods before turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. You watch as he slides from the bed and rubs his lips together, glancing around the room before landing on the door to the bathroom. Smiling, you let your eyes follow him as he moves into the ensuite before you hear him turn on the tap in the shower. 

Coming back into the bedroom, Mingyu rubs the side of his neck with his right arm as he offers you his left hand. Though you take his hand, sitting up, ready to go with him, you can’t help the way your eyes migrate from his face to the angry stitches on his right arm. Furrowing your brows as you stand, you mutter his name and carefully touch the hot skin around the wound before meeting Mingyu’s eyes. 

“I’ll clean it and wrap it after the shower, okay? You have to take better care of this. It’ll get infected, babe.” Letting go of Mingyu’s hand, you don’t see the way his brows furrow and how his breath gets caught in his throat when you call him babe. His eyes follow you into the bathroom as you open a bag on the counter, digging through different pill bottles until you find the one you want and say his name once again. 

“I have some antibiotics. They should help… if I can talk to someone here in Seoul, I can get you an actual script.” Looking around for Mingyu in the bathroom, that’s when you realize he’s still standing in the bedroom looking at you, almost dazed. Lifting your hand out for him is what brings him back to you and gets his feet moving. 

Sliding his fingers along yours, Mingyu swallows hard and looks at the pills in your hand when you offer him two, ready to tell him to take them after the shower, only to watch him dry swallow them. Scoffing, you shake your head and sigh, knowing you were falling hard for him, as Mingyu simply smiles at you and guides you towards the shower with him. 

A week later, you found yourself settling into a routine with Mingyu. It was a confusing existence, but you were happy even if Jun wasn’t. He had cut his own vacation short to see you before you were planning to head back to China, and finding you and Mingyu playing house didn’t sit well with him. It took a lot of convincing and reminding him that you weren’t a child for your brother to let you “make your own mistakes” and let you see this through. 

It wasn’t like you could just look at him or Minghao and give them an easy explanation of what was happening. You weren’t even sure. There were no labels for what you and Mingyu had. You wanted to say that you were with him, but were you? 

The sex was mind blowing. Mingyu was the best lover you had ever had in your entire life, but more than that, you would fall asleep in his arms every night and wake up to a kiss from him every morning. That bliss would quickly end if you brought up the question of who the two of you were and where he wanted this to go. Mingyu was a great liar and he was good at changing the subject.

You were just happy that the two of you had been happy. The tension in the penthouse had been low and there had been an air of “ignorance is bliss”—at least there was until the night before your flight. 

“Baby, does pasta aglio e olio sound good for dinner?” Mingyu’s voice carries through the penthouse from the kitchen as he purses his lips at what ingredients he has on hand. Hearing your muffled answer from down the hall, he smiles, shaking his head before heading towards you. “What did you say? You good with—” 

The words get caught in Mingyu’s throat, seeing your suitcase on your bed and your clothes in piles on the bed as you work to pack for the next day. He knew it was coming, but seeing it firsthand was like a stab to his gut. 

Glancing up, a sad but thoughtful look on your face, you look over Mingyu’s expression when he stops mid sentence. You had heard his question, but you were trying to get through a task that felt impossible. Packing meant you were actually leaving and it was breaking your heart, but Mingyu hadn’t asked you to stay. 

Staying would take work, but if he really wanted you to... if he asked you to do it, you had decided in your mind that you’d figure out how to do it. That was why you had asked him so many times what he wanted from the relationship, what he wanted from you, but every time he avoided it—that told you he wanted you to go home. 

“Dinner sounds good, Gyu. Are you okay?” Mingyu could hear the changes in your voice. You didn’t sound like the happy, carefree girl that he had just made love to the night before. The sound of your voice makes his chest feel tight and reminds him that he promised to drive you to the airport. How was he going to do that? How was he going to stand at that gate and watch you walk away? 

Mingyu’s mind quickly puts up defenses, doing what it has always done best—it builds walls. Hurt and pain are on the horizon, so a wall goes up and he’s reminded that this is for the best. He’s bad for you. You have an entire life back in China. You have a clinic and patients who rely on you. He’s selfish and pathetic. He’s dangerous. You stitched him up and watched him shatter. He’s going to get you killed or make you miserable. 

Shaking his head, Mingyu quickly follows it by scoffing and putting on a fake smirk. “Uh yeah, yeah. I’m good. Uh…” Gesturing towards your bags, Mingyu reaches up with his other hand to run his fingers through his hair, something you’ve realized he does when he’s stressed. “When’s your flight again?” He knew what time the flight was. He had looked at the booking hundreds of times but you were looking at him to say something and this was the only thing he knew to say. 

Stepping towards Mingyu, you watch as he takes a step backwards and it makes your heart rise towards your throat. You knew what he was doing. You have already done this. That tension was back and Mingyu was pushing you away again. He was afraid, but so were you. “It’s at 1, but you know that. Mingyu, talk to me.” 

Taking a sharp breath when you take a step towards him, Mingyu feels the door frame behind him as he looks away from you and laughs. The laugh is hollow and fake. You know that it’s supposed to be painful and it is. It hits right at your heart and makes you feel almost sick as you watch him turn from you and head into the hall, his words carrying back to you. “Just needed the time, Y/N. Finish packing so we don’t have to fuckin’ rush in the morning.” 

There it was. Mingyu was purposely trying to be cold and mean again. You had drunk your weight in wine last time; this time you followed him. He didn’t go back to the kitchen; instead, Mingyu turned into his bedroom. Staring at his back, you try to keep the tears at bay, but taking a deep breath, you quickly lose that fight when the first words leave your mouth, anger and sadness coming out in waves. 

“No! You don’t get to do this again, Mingyu! Why are you closing me out? Just…” Mingyu closes his eyes, hearing the sobs between your words. “Please? Why can’t you ask me to stay? Huh?” 

Tears threaten Mingyu’s eyes at that. He wanted to so badly but that wasn’t fair to you. His brain was repeating it all on loop for him. 

You’re selfish and pathetic. You’re dangerous. You’re going to get her killed or make her miserable. You’re selfish and pathetic. You’re dangerous. You’re going to get her killed or make her miserable. You’re selfish and pathetic. You’re dangerous. You’re going to get her killed or make her miserable…

The words in his mind are so loud that even as you move close to him and push at his back, inching him forward, Mingyu stands still. Your choked sobs are what bring him somewhat back to the present, only for his heart to shatter one more time. “Mingyu! Why can’t you ask me if I love you? Tell me that you love me!” 

It takes everything in Mingyu not to turn around, wrap you in his arms and apologize. He isn’t even sure if he wants to apologize for not doing what you’ve asked or for making you feel the way you do. He just doesn’t want you to feel like this anymore, but if you are in this much pain, maybe he can make you hate him. “I don’t love anyone, Y/N.”

Hearing Mingyu speak, you let out one more painful sob and punched at Mingyu’s back, your words weak. “I hate you so much. God, I—why did you make me love you?” Turning to face you and hearing what he wanted, Mingyu closes his fists tightly so he doesn’t reach out to grab on to you. The look on your face shatters him further, but he tries to cover it, even if his eyes give it away. You see the despair written in them, though his mouth stays shut firmly, his jaw is set tightly. 

Smacking your hands at his chest weakly, you try to hold on to your anger as you meet Mingyu’s eyes. Shaking your head, you finally lift your hand and start to bring your palm across his cheek when Mingyu finally moves, his fingers wrapping around your wrist gently to finally stop you. “Why can’t you just let me go? Go be happy... Be safe.”

You see the tears in Mingyu’s eyes as he speaks, his voice cracking. Rubbing his thumb in a circle on the inner side of your wrist, Mingyu watches you start to speak, but he shakes his head and sighs. You can hear how tired and desperate he is in his voice as he finally begs you, but not in the way you want. “Just... let me be alone? Let me lie and be miserable on my own. I can’t fuck up your life.” 

Shaking your head as you look up at Mingyu, you see him searching your eyes for understanding. You pull your hand free from his and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him down so your lips can brush over his. Hissing into the light kiss, Mingyu whines your name while trying to keep his hands to himself as he tastes your tears on your lips. 

“I can’t let you do that, Mingyu. I love you.” Trying to make him understand, you kiss at the corner of Mingyu’s lips and once again on the fullness of his bottom lip as you whine into your words, fresh tears on your cheeks. “Please, I love you so much. Stop lying and tell me that you love me, baby. Ask me to stay.” 

Groaning in mental pain and at how tight his chest feels from hearing your words, Mingyu finally breaks. Hands grip at your waist before he lifts you and walks the few steps to the bed, laying you on your back so he can rest over you. The kiss before had been hesitant and guarded, but now Mingyu was almost bruising your lips as if he were willing you to hear how he was feeling through his passion. 

You lift your hand and run your fingers through Mingyu’s hair before walking them along his face to his cheek, feeling his skin damp under your touch. Whispering between kisses, you finally feel a sense of security in being back in Mingyu’s arms as he clings to you as if he’s never going to let you go. “I love you, Mingyu.” 

Mingyu’s sigh against your lips almost sounds like a half sob and a laugh. Resting his forehead against yours, he groans softly and keeps his eyes closed, taking in the moment before finally leaning back to look down at you as your fingers wipe away the tears from his cheek. “I love you so fucking much, baby. I hate myself for how much I love you.” 

Watching you shake your head, Mingyu can see you are going to argue, but he furrows his brows and kisses your lips gently before continuing. “I’m so fucking scared that I’ll lose you. I’m afraid that ‘cause I love you, that’s gonna get you hurt or worse, baby. I—I’d fuckin’ lose it.” 

There had been brief moments of honesty in your short relationship with Mingyu, but this was complete honesty and clarity. It made you think back to what had happened a week ago with the man who had lost his life and you wondered what had been said or done to make Mingyu do what he did… Your mind goes back to Mingyu’s bookshelf and when you had asked him, “Are you a tortured soul, Kim Mingyu?”  

Kim Mingyu was a complicated man, but you were beginning to understand him. 

“Gyu, baby… I’ll be okay. You can’t live your life thinking that disaster is waiting for you around every corner. Just... maybe live it with me? Be happy with me?” 

Taking a deep breath, Mingyu lets the gravity of your words settle on him before he brushes his lips over yours and then presses another kiss on your jaw before nodding. He had only committed to a few things in his life and none of them had ever been this terrifying, but you were worth it. 

Running your fingers through the back of Mingyu’s hair at the nape of his neck, you smile, feeling him nod in agreement. Taking a deep breath, you rest your head back against the bed and let out the breath, finally meeting Mingyu’s eyes once again as his fingers brush along the side of your neck. Smiling, Mingyu’s eyes move along your face before he finally settles back on your eyes.

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[contact-guy]

lol THIS ENDED UP BEING SO LONG but it's such a cute story opening that I had to draw Watson roasting Holmes's messiness for the newspaper and Holmes skillfully maneuvering his way out of having to do chores. It's all canon, even the indoor sharpshooting, except for the bit about the cold bath.

canon text under the cut:

An anomaly which often struck me in the character of my friend Sherlock Holmes was that, although in his methods of thought he was the neatest and most methodical of mankind, and although also he affected a certain quiet primness of dress, he was none the less in his personal habits one of the most untidy men that ever drove a fellow-lodger to distraction. Not that I am in the least conventional in that respect myself. The rough-and-tumble work in Afghanistan, coming on the top of a natural Bohemianism of disposition, has made me rather more lax than befits a medical man. But with me there is a limit, and when I find a man who keeps his cigars in the coal-scuttle, his tobacco in the toe end of a Persian slipper, and his unanswered correspondence transfixed by a jack-knife into the very centre of his wooden mantelpiece, then I begin to give myself virtuous airs. I have always held, too, that pistol practice should be distinctly an open-air pastime; and when Holmes, in one of his queer humors, would sit in an arm-chair with his hair-trigger and a hundred Boxer cartridges, and proceed to adorn the opposite wall with a patriotic V. R. done in bullet-pocks, I felt strongly that neither the atmosphere nor the appearance of our room was improved by it.

Our chambers were always full of chemicals and of criminal relics which had a way of wandering into unlikely positions, and of turning up in the butter-dish or in even less desirable places. But his papers were my great crux. He had a horror of destroying documents, especially those which were connected with his past cases, and yet it was only once in every year or two that he would muster energy to docket and arrange them; for, as I have mentioned somewhere in these incoherent memoirs, the outbursts of passionate energy when he performed the remarkable feats with which his name is associated were followed by reactions of lethargy during which he would lie about with his violin and his books, hardly moving save from the sofa to the table. Thus month after month his papers accumulated, until every corner of the room was stacked with bundles of manuscript which were on no account to be burned, and which could not be put away save by their owner. One winter’s night, as we sat together by the fire, I ventured to suggest to him that, as he had finished pasting extracts into his common-place book, he might employ the next two hours in making our room a little more habitable. He could not deny the justice of my request, so with a rather rueful face he went off to his bedroom, from which he returned presently pulling a large tin box behind him. This he placed in the middle of the floor and, squatting down upon a stool in front of it, he threw back the lid. I could see that it was already a third full of bundles of paper tied up with red tape into separate packages.

“There are cases enough here, Watson,” said he, looking at me with mischievous eyes. “I think that if you knew all that I had in this box you would ask me to pull some out instead of putting others in.”

“These are the records of your early work, then?” I asked. “I have often wished that I had notes of those cases.”

“Yes, my boy, these were all done prematurely before my biographer had come to glorify me.” He lifted bundle after bundle in a tender, caressing sort of way. “They are not all successes, Watson,” said he. “But there are some pretty little problems among them. Here’s the record of the Tarleton murders, and the case of Vamberry, the wine merchant, and the adventure of the old Russian woman, and the singular affair of the aluminium crutch, as well as a full account of Ricoletti of the club-foot, and his abominable wife. And here—ah, now, this really is something a little recherchè.”

He dived his arm down to the bottom of the chest, and brought up a small wooden box with a sliding lid, such as children’s toys are kept in. From within he produced a crumpled piece of paper, and old-fashioned brass key, a peg of wood with a ball of string attached to it, and three rusty old disks of metal.

“Well, my boy, what do you make of this lot?” he asked, smiling at my expression.

“It is a curious collection.”

“Very curious, and the story that hangs round it will strike you as being more curious still.”

“These relics have a history then?”

“So much so that they are history.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Sherlock Holmes picked them up one by one, and laid them along the edge of the table. Then he reseated himself in his chair and looked them over with a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.

“These,” said he, “are all that I have left to remind me of the adventure of the Musgrave Ritual.”

I had heard him mention the case more than once, though I had never been able to gather the details. “I should be so glad,” said I, “if you would give me an account of it.”

“And leave the litter as it is?” he cried, mischievously. “Your tidiness won’t bear much strain after all, Watson. But I should be glad that you should add this case to your annals, for there are points in it which make it quite unique in the criminal records of this or, I believe, of any other country. A collection of my trifling achievements would certainly be incomplete which contained no account of this very singular business.

-The Memories of Sherlock Holmes: The Musgrave Ritual

[kentobb]

The Promise

Character: Ushijima Wakatoshi x F!Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, cursing, slight comfort on the end.

It has been a rough month and Ushijima knows it. He has been overworking himself, pushing his limits at each practice. His typically calm and composed face is now etched with stress and strain. His temperament, once steady as a rock, is now volatile and erratic, akin to a stormy sea. The month had been grueling, a relentless onslaught of training sessions and personal workouts. His body is aching, his mind is strained, and his spirit is beginning to waver.

Today, he returns to his apartment later than usual, bone-tired, his muscles screaming in protest, only to be greeted by your sight, his sweet and loving girlfriend. Your smile always warm, eyes filled with concern, having dinner ready, a hot bath drawn, and comforting words falling from your lips.

He should feel guilty for his recent behavior, matter of fact he should apologize. He was not a man prone to emotional outbursts or thoughtless actions, and yet, he had allowed his stress to control him, to turn him into someone he hardly recognized these days.

He had ignored you, brushed off your attempts at conversations, and retreated into himself. He had been mean, cold, distant. He had forgotten your presence, forgotten the warmth you brought into his life, forgotten the love that had once made his heart flutter.

And tonight was no different, the weight of the day pressing heavily on his shoulders, his mind foggy and his spirit was weary. As he kicked off his shoes and hung his jacket on the hook, the tantalizing aroma of dinner wafted through the apartment. He followed the scent into the kitchen, his eyes landing on the sight of you, sitting at the kitchen table, a spread of dishes laid out in front of you.

You looked up the entrance and your face lights up with a smile that reaches your eyes. A sight that used to warm his heart, a sight that used to make him forget about exhaustion, a sight that used to make him feel loved.

“‘Toshi, you’re home!” You smiled happily.

But today, he could only muster a tired sigh in response. He saw you on your feet in an instant, your chair scraping against the floor as you rushed towards him. Your arms wrapped around him in a tight hug, your warmth seeping into him. But he didn’t return the hug, didn’t wrap his arms around you, didn’t press a kiss to your forehead like he always does. He just stood there, his body rigid, his mind elsewhere.

You pulled away, you don’t know if it is out of embarrassment or…due to a sudden heartbreak due to the neglect you have been suffering, but your hands suddenly cup his face, eyes searching his for a sign of the man you loved. “Um, we should, well, you should go eat,” You urged, your voice soft and your touch gentle. But he shook his head, his voice coming out gruff as he muttered, “I’m tired.”

But you didn’t back down this time, didn’t let him retreat into himself like he has done all this month. You tugged at his hand, tried to lead him to the table with the dinner you worked very hard for, trying to make him eat. “Come on, Toshi, you been avoiding me this past month,” You insisted, your voice firm, your grip tight. “Just be here, yeah?” You smiled.

But he snapped. “For fuck sakes Y/N, I’m tired!” He barked, his voice louder that he intended, his tone harsher than he meant. He yanked his hand out of your grip, his eyes flashing with a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “You have been nagging me all these past nights to have fucking dinner and you don’t understand that I am tired.” He yelled again.

The silence that followed was deafening, the tension in the room palpable. You took a step back, embarrassed that your boyfriend had to yelled at you like that, “Ah, sorry, I just thought—“ You were saying but were cut off immediately by his sharp words.

“Thought what? Thought what, Y/N?” He yelled in disbelief, “That you have been a pain in the ass for the past few days?” He asked as he raised his voice louder, tone meaner.

“I-I’m sorry,” You apologized, trying to mask your disappointment, “I have missed you…” You mumbled embarrassedly, trying to hide your flushed face from him.

“Missed me?” He yelled, “We live in the same fucking apartment and we see each other every night!” He yelled, his voice echoing in the quiet apartment.

“I- I know, I know, Toshi,” You said, trying to calm him down, “B-But we haven’t been able to talk, you haven’t kissed me or touched me…” You admit painfully as you looked at him with teary eyes.

“God, you’re so fucking clingy and needy,” He yells as he rolled his eyes out of frustration. “All of this mess because of that?” He chuckled, “I am tired for this crap right now.” He said.

The room fell silent, the tension hanging heavy in the air. He watched your face fall, your eyes reflecting the hurt his words had caused. And guilt washed over him like a tidal wave, his heart clenching at your sight.

You know he didn’t mean any single word of it, right? He was just tired, so incredibly tired. His days were filled with endless practices, his nights consumed by restless sleep. He was pushing himself to the brink, his body and mind paying the price.

He didn’t mean it.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, “I will clean the mess,” You said as you hid your face away from his, walking towards the kitchen again.

His mind raced, guilt and regret swirling within him. He wanted to apologize, to explain, to make you understand that fuck, he didn’t mean any of it. But the words wouldn’t come, his throat tight with emotion. He was trapped in his own guilt, his own exhaustion, his own regret. And he didn’t know how to escape.

He watched from the doorway as you busied yourself in the kitchen, cleaning up the dinner he had refused to eat. His heart clenching at the sight, guilt gnawing at his insides. He had been harsh, mean even, and he regretted it.

Your movements were mechanical, your usual cheerfulness replaced with a somber silence. He watched as you wiped the table clean, packed the uneaten food, and washed the dishes. Your shoulders are tense, lips pressed into a thin line.

And he noticed, noticed how you tried to compose yourself, how you tried to hold back the tears. But despite your efforts, a few escaped, trailing down your cheeks and disappearing into the collar of your shirt. Each tear was a stab to his heart, a painful reminder of the hurt he had caused.

Once you were done, you turned off the lights, plunging the kitchen into the darkness. The only sound was the sound of the soft padding of your feet as you made your way to the bedroom, where he was waiting.

Both of you sat on opposite sides of the bed, an uncomfortable silence hanging between both of you. He watched as you changed into your sleeping clothes, your movements slow and deliberate. You climbed into bed, your back to him, body curling up on your side.

He was at a loss. He didn’t knew what to do, didn’t know what to say. He was worried, his mind filled with the thoughts of you, of the hurt he had caused. He knew you had taken his words to heart, knew that you were hurting. And it was all of his fault.

In the dimly lit room, his silhouette was barely visible as he climbed into bed next to you. The only sound that broke silence was your soft, muffled sobs. His heart clenched at the sound. He reached out tentatively, his hands finding their way around your waist. He drew you close, his chest against your back, both of your hearts beating in a rhythm that was painfully off sync.

He leaned in, pressing his lips against your swollen and teary face, tasting the saltiness of your tears. “I’m sorry,” He whispered into your hair, his voice barely audible. His words hung heavy in the air, a confession and a plea all at once.

You remained silent, sobs subsiding into quiet sniffles. And he could feel your body stiffen at his words. It was an unspoken tension that made his heart race with worry. He wanted to say more, you deserved way more, to explain, to ask for forgiveness, but the words stuck in his throat.

“Talk to me, love.” He implored, his voice barely a whisper. His fingers tracing circles on your waist, a silent plea for you to respond.

But you don’t. Your silence was deafening wrapping you both in a shroud of uncertainty. And he held you tighter, his mind racing with thoughts and fears. He didn’t know what was going to happen next, and that scared him.

The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. He stirred, his eyes fluttering open to a new day. His body felt heavy, his heart even more so. The events of the previous night replayed in his mind like a haunting melody.

He found you in the kitchen, a solitary figure bathed in the morning light. You were cradling a cup of coffee, your gaze fixed in the steaming liquid. Your face was pale, eyes rimmed with red. The sight of you, so vulnerable and distant, twisted his heart.

“Good morning,” he tried, he really did, his voice echoing in the silence. But you didn’t respond, didn’t even lift your gaze to meet his. It was as if he was a ghost, unseen, unheard. He felt a pang of guilt, a sharp reminder of his words last night.

“For fuck sakes Y/N.”

“You have been nagging me all these past nights to have fucking dinner and you don’t understand that I am tired.”

“God, you’re so fucking clingy and needy.”

His mind was whirlwind of thoughts. He had hoped that giving you space would help, that it would give you time to heal, time to warm up to him like you always do. But as the day dragged on, the silence between both of you grew. His phone remained silent, devoid of your usual messages.

No updates about your day, no reminders about dinner, nothing.

It was a silence that spoke volumes, and it terrified him.

Who would have thought? Ushijima Wakatoshi, the man who faced countless opponents on the court, was scared. He was scared that his actions had created a chasm between you, a distance he didn’t knew how to bridge.

As he returned from practice on the night, the apartment was dark. The usually welcoming lights were all turned off, a stark reminder of the cold silence that awaited him. He knew you would be in bed, probably feigning sleep. There would be no warm welcome, no home-cooked meal, no soft smiles.

He lingered at the door, his hand hovering over the knob. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the silence that awaited him. As he stepped into the dark apartment, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of dread that clung to him. He was walking into a battlefield, and he didn’t know how to fight this war.

The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the noise of the world outside. He stepped in, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words. The sight of the shared room, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, was a painful reminder of the happier times.

There you were, a small figure curled up on the bed, your back to him just like last night. Your eyes were open, staring blankly at the window. The sadness in your gaze was palpable, a silent cry for help that tore at his heart.

He took off his shoes, placing his gym bag in the kitchen before making his way towards you. He tried to speak, to break the silence that hung between both of you.

“How are you?” He asked softly, but his words fell on deaf ears. You didn’t respond, didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

Undeterred, he climbed onto the bed, his large frame curling around your smaller one. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, making you face him. He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, each kiss a silent promise to make things right.

And then he hears it, he hears you crying. Tears falling like rain, burying your face on his chest and soaking his shirt. Your sobs were heart-wrenching, a testament to the pain he had caused.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. He held you tightly, as if his touch could somehow ease the pain he had caused. His apologies were a soft murmur against your hair, a desperate plea for forgiveness.

He gently lifted your face, fingers tracing the contours of your features. His lips found yours in a tender kiss, a silent vow of his love for you. He kissed away your salty tears, each one a testament to her pain, each one a reminder of his mistakes.

“I love you,” He whispered, his voice barely audible. His words were soft, filled with emotion so raw yet so powerful that it took his breath away. He repeated the words over and over, a mantra of love and regret.

Slowly, your sobs subsided. Your breathing evened out, your body relaxing against his. Falling asleep in his arms, your tear-streaked face buried in his chest. He watched you sleep, his heart aching with relief and regret.

He ran his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle and soothing. His eyes welled up with tears, the guilt and regret overwhelming him. He kisses your forehead, a silent promise etched into your skin.

“This is the last time,” He vowed to himself, his voice chocked with emotion. “This is the last time I’ll make you cry,” He promised.

He held you close, his arms a protective shield around you.

Reblogs, notes and comments are appreciated <3

[blush-pedri]

fans are assholes | r. dias

summary: fans compare your pregnancy to fellow wags, leaving you to feel not so good.

notes: as requested! i don’t think i specified that it was twins but it still works. dad!ruben has to be my fav genre 🤪 i hope you all enjoy, some very cute at moments 💘 let me know what you all think! <3

IT WAS MATCH DAY, and although you were feeling rough like you had done the last 7 months, you had promised your fiancé you would make it to today’s knockout game rather than watching from home. he wanted you to support from the stadium, but he also wanted to get you out of the house too.

you were 32 weeks along and feeling very heavily pregnant.

yeah, it’s all fun and games when dating a tall man until you have to grow his unnecessarily large children.

all you wanted to do was lie down and moan this entire trimester, having nothing but a hard time with this one you were growing. you’d had every bad symptom imaginable, from the nonstop sickness and heartburn, to back and hip pain, difficulty sleeping and sore boobs, and now in the final stages you were experiencing braxton hicks, so yeah - all you did want was to lie down and whine. more than ever, you just wanted to stay in the comfort of your own home and nest.

“—you’re not even nesting though! you’re sitting here watching tv all day! get up and get ready!” rúben had said to you just yesterday morning after you’d told him you were too busy nesting to grab a coffee with him before training.

“mama, i think you should go tomorrrow . .” another sweet voice said from the sofa, glancing sympathetically in your direction.

your sweet boy, elias, didn’t want to offend you and make you feel like a slob, but he really wanted you both to go to his papa’s games. with school, you didn’t allow him to go to any late night matches which were always the majority, but tomorrow’s kickoff was 3:30pm and when he pitched the idea, you felt awful for feeling like you’d deprived him of some fun memories.

you really didn’t want to go, but your baby boy deserved it. he’d been working so hard in the last weeks of school and rúben would agree that you needed to take him - he wanted you both there just as much but he also knew not to tell a pregnant woman what to do - he wasn’t the one carrying an 8lb baby around in all summer.

“you nearly ready, baby?!” you called from your room, trying your best to look acceptable for today’s outing. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d done your makeup and styled your hair so neatly, baby dias was really kicking your butt that you hardly had any energy after a shower, let alone doing your makeup and hair.

you really needed them out so you could go back to your old self.

you didn’t remember pregnancy being this hard with eli. with him, you were able to get through the rest of school with him growing in your belly! taking notes and listening in class. sure, you had sickness and a sore back but that was really only at the start and at the end. given, you were younger and full of energy.

eli came along in the last of your teen years but you wouldn’t change anything for the world, same with rúben. he blamed that baby boy for being the reason he pushed himself so hard to get where he was today. he was such an easy pregnancy, and an easy kid.

being honest, you felt more unprepared for this new baby as a grown adult than you did as a teenager back in 2016.

with a few thuds across the landing and a solid jump at your bedroom door, you turned to see your 8-year-old all ready holding two thumbs up. with a man city kit on and trainers, he looked like rúben more than ever. seriously, if you got a photo of rúben back then, it was like looking at eli with a slightly different haircut. it scared you so much. “ready!”

traffic was always bad no matter what time you left, but you got there in one piece and already left eli with one of your closest friends and bernardo’s wife, ines, while you had to run to the bathroom even after such a short journey. jeans were longgg out of the equation so you’d gone with some loose, white trousers to go with the blue football shirt, hoping they didn’t wrinkle too much but still looked good with the outfit. “you are glowing!”

“no, it’s probably just my highlighter,” you pointed to your cheekbone as ines laughed cheerfully.

“no! you look amazing, what are you talking about?! i have missed you!” she couldn’t help but hug you again. “you’re ready to pop!”

she felt your bump and you huffed a sigh, pulling your sunglasses down, “i know, it feels like it.”

you didn’t really like being out this far along, not because you were afraid, but you were at that stage were you were starting to feel gross. like, you looked like a whale no matter what you wore or styled yourself to look like. realistically �� you were one of the most beautiful pregnant women the internet had saw. truly, you may have felt like an elephant, but you were still posted on WAG accounts, getting shared by millions of women who begged they could only look as good as you when pregnant or better - envied you for still looking so hot while suffering the struggles of pregnancy.

how?! 😭❤️

life’s not fair!!!! 😫

what’s her secret?!!! 😍😭🙏🏼

but you could have gotten a thousand comments like that . . but all it took was the one bad one.

fucking hell, keep her inside 😂🫣

who is that??

🤣🤣🤣🤮🤮

a lot of the time you didn’t care because you knew how the internet worked, and you know the majority were sad-little-pathetic-football-fan men. they barely impacted you.

when it was women on the other hand . . .

“i just can’t believe one woman would say that to another woman,” you tilted your phone to show ines the replies. “what happened to the whole ‘girls help girls?’” you had to put your phone down before you ended up on a gossip page for arguing with people in your comment section.

“it’s always down to jealousy, babe. they hate you ‘cause they ain’t you,” she pointed, the same thing you had told her when she got her first negative comment, and you smiled at her attempt of making you feel better. she was such a good friend.

the internet was a weird place. your life was a weird place, you didn’t think there’d be a day people hated you for simply being with a person. you found it weird paparazzi followed you around when rúben was the famous one. you found it weird there were accounts dedicated to you when you didn’t do anything. it caught you off seeing people notice every little thing about you or knew things you forgot you’d explained. it did add a little bit of pressure knowing you were being watched and most likely compared to other beautiful WAGS. you’d be lying if you didn’t say you’d put on makeup in fear you’d be posted all over those news articles and WAG accounts.

you forgot how stressed matches made you until kickoff, two minutes in and already overthinking how this would go down. rúben had your heart fluttering nontheless with how he ran up and down the pitch, giving orders all sweaty and even repping the captain band for a bit. it made you feel real good about your baby daddy.

“come on, pa!” your son would shout when a bit of a ruffle would occur, his father speaking passionately to the ref with frustrating hand movements.

the halftime whistle blew and you let out a breath, fanning yourself as your body relaxed for a small moment. 0-0. “ma, i need to go to the bathroom.”

“me too, let’s go!”

perks of dating a footballer? renting out their own box for friends and family - including the private bathroom. no queues around hereee.

walking through the rows and steps, you couldn’t help but feel eyes pinned to you. ines would tell you because you’re a WAG of a player (you regret ever educating her on that term) but really you felt like it was because you looked like a whale making her way through the stands.

eli convinced you to do a lap of the stadium just once to ‘stretch your legs’ when really it was something he always liked to do as he believed it ‘made halftime pass quicker’. so hobbling around with few staff members recognising the kid (or rather seeing the clear evidence he was a mini rúben) , you strolled around the packed building, trying to squeeze past football fans, getting stopped once for a picture.

“thank you so much!”

“no worries at all,” you waved to the two girls, shooting them your kindest smile. they were so lovely, and even complimented you for ‘pulling off pregnancy so well’.

“you’re sLayiNg” eli mocked them, taking your hand.

“shut up,” you tutted. you appreciated being told you were still slaying.

“matt!”

the 8-year-old suddenly bolted to a familair security guard in a neon vest who was delighted to see the boy. “my man!”

you didn’t bother rushing over, you were out of breath as it was and decided to just lean on the wall while elias got his quick catch up, waving at matt instead. halftime was almost over. you should be heading back now.

“—not the best one though.”

“—no, sasha is definitely the best wag.”

i swear, the word ‘wag’ triggers you like nothing else.

you tried not to look around, but to your left, you could make out two bodies mingling with each other. both wearing light blue tops with stylish jeans and trainers, the two girls waiting outside the bathroom, trying to talk quietly between then in a mumbled manner.

you were a mum - you had mastered your hearing to hear the grass grow.

“–but sasha’s not pregnant?”

“–but if she was, she’d have a cute bump, not . . ”

their silence had you believe they’d glance in your direction, and it took every bone in your body not to stare dead on at them with a smile to let them know you heard every word - but you didn’t. you played oblivious and stayed watching eli, a forced sweet smile on your lips.

“–foden’s girl always has a cute little bump too!”

“–oh my god, yes. she’s stunning.”

“–he’s stunning too, to be fair.”

“eli, come on son!” you wanted to bang your head on the wall not wanting to endure the conversation anymore. now you’d tune in, you couldn’t tune out.

“–ok. bye matt! see you later,” he didn’t waste a second to return to you. “see you soon, buddy!”

you waved at matt and led him through the crowds, not meaning to hold his hand so tight until he pointed it out. “ow, ma, you’re hurting me.”

“sorry baby.” you didn’t sound sorry but you felt utterly hot and bothered. and not in the good way.

for some unreasonable reason, a small line of carts drove through the halls, and you stood against the wall as they passed by, holding your son by his shoulders. you could hear a small utter of whispers from your side but refused to turn your head. you really needed to fucking sit down.

“—dias’ girl! look at the size of her!”

“–rob that’s so mean! she’s pregnant!”

“WOW!” eli stole your attention as he almost stepped out in front of a last minute one zooming by. you smiled, and quickly manoeuvred him on your way.

“keep going, keep going,” you shuffled behind him in the stands, but stopped amidst a waiting line as someone caused hassle. your foot kicked something. “oh i’m so sorry!”

you accidentally tapped your foot to a lady’s handbag, but she smiled and waved you off. “you’re alright, don’t worry!” shortly adding, “i’m not surprised!” glancing to your belly.

it wasn’t malicious, but it was about to be the last straw of some floodgates. “ha! i know . . I’m like a whale.”

“how far along are you?” her friend asked.

“about 7-8 months,” you smiled sweetly, ignoring the fact they didn’t assure you that you didn’t look like a whale. thanks.

“oh wow!”

“i know,” you fake laughed. why wasn’t this line moving?

“is it twins or just the one?”

you tried to stop your eye twitching. who in the right kind said that?! was that . . a backhanded compliment?! what that even a compliment?! or was she genuinely asking in a stupid and nosey manner? “no, but it feels like it,” you fake laughed, and they did too. twats.

“oh my! you’re so big!”

“he or she will be a big boy or girl,” the other corrected with her pint in hand, knowing her friend’s words had just flown out of her mouth.

“yeah . .” you were done with this conversation but you didn’t dare be rude. thankfully, the line moved, and they waved goodbye. “congratulations!”

“thank you!” you replied, turning back around, mouthing absolute knobheads.

“mum, i don’t think you’re a whale,” eli’s hand patted your own that rested on his shoulder, bringing you back down to earth.

your heart thumped and although he didn’t look at you, your heart melted to a puddle as you squeezed his shoulders and ruffled his hair, knowing you’d embarrass him with a kiss. “thank you baby. you’re always to sweet to me.”

and he was. you actually . . wanted to cry. shock.

“hey!” ines greeted. “where’d you guys go?”

you only shook your head and nodded to you son who was standing again, ready and recharged for more yelling. you felt ines squeeze your hand and you looked at her, “are you ok? you look . .”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you dabbed your eyes and put your sunglasses back on. “just . . stupid stuff, and then e said something really sweet and i just,” you held your heart which made her laugh and reassure her for the time being. “ok, but . . you can tell me, y’know?”

“just being emotional,” you said the obvious, making her laugh as you leaned into her for support.

you would tell her later, but right now, you were going to use the rest of the game as your excuse to start screaming.

-

the game ended on a win. you saw rúben briefly when the players walked around and applauded, and eli mirrored his excitement and happiness, waving and calling to him as he spotted you guys. he was ecstatic you could make it.

it was after 6 by the time you got home and settled. you were about to order food when you second guess your options, today’s events replaying in your mind:

look at the size of her!

sasha would have a cute bump.

you’re so big!

you knew you were pregnant but there were far nicer things to say to a pregnant lady. what a bunch of assholes.

instead, you cooked some carbs up for eli and made yourself a seperate dinner, feeling the need to watch what you were eating now - you’d be giving birth soon and all those pregnancy cravings didn’t just leave when the baby came. you weren’t silly - you weren’t going to deprive yourself of food, but maybe they had a point - why wasn’t your bump considered cute? was it hard to tell you were pregnant? what were you doing differently?

you were on the verge of calling sasha and asking her what she put in her green smoothies when the door opened.

“meu amor?”

“in here champ,”

something rúben didn’t expect to see what you lying on the couch with a salad balanced on your bump, and you munching away like it was a 5-star dish. “what’s this about . . ?” he smiled sceptically, dropping his bag to the floor.

“what’s what?”

“that.” he nodded to your plate.

you shrugged. “took a notion for it.”

“for . . a salad?” he clarified, looking down at you, entertained in some sense.

your craving for the last 5 months had been anything with chocolate frosting on it. rúben had watched you talk yourself out of buying a tub of it on its own because you knew if was weird and would have to bake go use it.

“yeah.”

to be fair, the salad was tasty, and you were enjoying it but . . at 7 months pregnant? rúben tilted his head. “where’s eli?”

“is his room.”

“he had salad too?”

“he had pasta and garlic bread.”

now he knew something was up. you? not eating garlic bread? italian in general?

someone had said something to you.

he looked at you concerningly, but he was too afraid to ruin the peaceful moment. you seemed calm. he had won a game and you were in a good mood today. baby boy or girl mustn’t be giving you too much trouble so that was a win in itself. so he just leaned down and kissed you lovingly. “hi.”

“hi,” you smiled, pecking him three more times before he rose again. “well done today.”

“thank you,” his hand touched your belly for about two seconds before you swept it off smoothly with your own, squeezing it instead. you smiled up at him again, “love you.”

he kissed you again trying to hide his confusion – but something was up. you were being odd. “love you too.”

and he left and headed for eli’s room, leaving you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding before slouching again and continuing with your dinner.

-

the rest of that evening, rúben was correct. you weren’t yourself.

your mind was somewhere else, and your head wasn’t out of your phone. constantly scrolling, you had overanalysed every picture captured of you today and tried not to nitpick. reading comments. comparing yourself. he wondered what you were doing.

but everyone else did have small bumps. everyone’s looked so cute. they didn’t use pregnancy as an excuse to eat whatever they wanted or slack with self-care. they still wore tight clothing. they still looked gorgeous. you began to compare yourself to all these other wives and girlfriends on the page, wondering how on earth they looked that good.

ummmm, ‘cause maybe they’re 12 weeks along and you’re triple that?

the next morning, rúben kissed you in the kitchen before leaving. “what’s that?”

“what?”

“that,” he nodded to the drink in your hand.

“a smoothie?”

“for breakfast?”

“well yeah,” you furrowed your brows, and he immediately shook his head, pulling that judgemental, disapproving look you sometimes wanted to punch. “no, no, come on, don’t be silly, now,” he almost laughed, “you need to eat something proper.”

“it’s a smoothie, it has everything i need in it?”

“y/n, make something to eat. you’re almost 8 months pregnant for crying out loud,” he looked at you seriously. he didn’t want to sound like he was scolding you or making you feel stupid but you knew he was worried about the lack.

overprotective rúben had always been a constant in your relationship but when you were pregnant — phew, “you got my baby in there.”

“–and he or she is looked after, it’s a healthy drink—”

he took it from your hand and kissed your cheek in the process, taking it with him to training with a smirk, “stop being lazy and cook.”

you were furious. you were actually annoyed that he had taken the drink himself and didn’t find it funny. he kissed eli’s head and the door closed, and you were left highly irritated.

you couldn’t see eli shrink, but he did, looking wide-eyed at the table as he considered his dad a brave brave man in that moment to do that to you - considering the look of your face.

and as a pregnant woman with her emotional struggling to stay in check - you lost it as they all blended together once eli was dropped off at school, sitting in a car park of a café you regretted going too now that you sat with your decaf latte and triple-choc muffin. the frustration quickly turned to tears as you had a moment, eyes in your hands, thinking over everything the last couple days.

yes you were pregnant, but was there a need to be that big? were you even that big compared to others? were you really that bad to look at? that unflattering? did it even looking like you were pregnant? the loose clothing probably didn’t help, but who wanted to wear tight clothing? pregnancy was hard - it was hard to glamourise it all the time!

you’d never cried over looking bad the first time you were pregnant, maybe once or twice when a pair of jeans didn’t fit or you couldn’t reach your shoelaces, but never over the way you felt about yourself. you actually were starting to feel disgusting, and it was embarrassing because you let randomers make you feel this way!

. . and then the pathetic-ness turned into anger because why were people such assholes?! how can they not keep an opinion to themselves?! making you feel bad about your baby!

. . and then the anger turned to guilt because your sweet little baby was just trying to grow and be healthy and you were upset over it. tears again.

you didn’t know how to fix it. the damage was already done, you had a month left, there was no going back now with salads and smoothies, you yanked your paper bag with your muffin off the floor, eating your money’s worth. rúben subconsciously popped into your head as he was probably eating some fruit salad or nutritious sandwich at this time.

oh rúben. you wished he was here but you also knew you wouldn’t want him near you at the minute, not when you weren’t feeling yourself and you had people in your comments telling you he was on his way of replacing you.

he would call you stupid, but rúben just wouldn’t understand. he wouldn’t get being on the other side, the built in competition that automatically comes with being a woman, more than ever with this lifestyle he had given you. one where you’re compared left right and centre with a certain standard to achieve.

you bet every handbag you owned, he’d screw his face up and go ‘are you serious’ if you told him your issue. he knew you were above anyone commenting stupid things on your posts and found it immature of you in a way if you did take those things to heart - i mean they were nobodies! jealous nobodies! but that’s easy for him to say, his comments are flooded with never ending support, guys praising him for his talent, physique and hard work and most girls telling him to hurry up and leave you. spamming with flame and tongue emojis, thirsting over your man just the way you did, only boosting his ego more which rúben did not need.

so you just felt silly, and picked at your muffin, accepting your were going to be a whale wag.

you felt like a slob when you got back home, staying on the couch after cleaning, and then crying except you were watching a movie to blame it on that.

you still couldn’t get comments out of your head, i mean what was an ‘expired wag?!’ or a ‘busted oven?!’ what did that mean? and why always the skull emojis?!

scrolling once again through photos of comparison, you scrolled onto a beautiful pic of your beautiful bestie, ines, and straight away phoned her. “hey.”

“hey! what’s up! what’s going on? why do you sound you out of breath?”

“why do you think?” you laughed.

“girl are you crying again?!”

and you started talking. you had to get things off your chest and you needed ines to make you feel better, to assure you and let you rant, and she happily did, after all, you’d always been there when she was having a moment.

“–what did rúben say?”

“nothing, i haven’t told him anything. he’ll just tell me i’m being ridiculous.”

“he won’t!”

“ines, he would, he’s not like bernardo. rúben’s harsh!”

“so are you! which is why i can’t believe you’re still crying over this!”

he was harsh in the good way, in the same way you were. you were both practical. real. realistic. you picked each other up and told each off when you were being ridiculous. pulled each other out their asses. brought you back down to earth.

but you just needed comforted at this current moment by your girl.

as you continued to chat and laugh more than you thought, the front door opened without your acknowledgment and rubes stepped through. freshly showered after a long morning of training, he instantly heard your voice rambling over the phone. he took notice of the tissue also crumpled on the floor by the door (you’d been carelessly tossing them for dramatic effect) and paused after he thought he’d heard a sad sniffle. he closed the door quietly and crept near the living room.

“i can’t help it, i do just feel . . blegh,” you felt like you were being ridiculous but you couldn’t help it. “like, why does everyone keep making a big fuss about it? am i really that massively huge or am i just not liked?”

he heard another woman’s laughter on your phone and recognised her as soon as she began talking to you, “y/n, i promise no one is making a fuss of it, it probably just seems in your face all the time because you keep going back to check. i promise the world is not broadcasting you,” ines chuckled sweetly, which followed your sad laugh also.

“well the wag world does!”

“y/n!” she laughed, “you’re overthinking it. i promise you have nothing to worry about. the only person who’s opinion should matter to you is rúben’s and everybody knows he has you on a pedestal!” rúben found himself smiling. he’d always been a fan of ines. “he’s called you his wife since you came to manchester! he’s always been proud to show you off, you look good - you look amazing! people are just saying that stuff about you to make themselves feel better.”

“mm, i guess,” you sniffed, holding your forehead. “i don’t know, it’s just been getting to me . . and i’m not saying to rúben because he’ll tell me i’m being stupid. i wouldn’t be surprised if he was leaving an hour earlier in the mornings to get away from me. it’s not like my looks can make up for my psycho-ness anymore,” you joked.

“y/n!” she tried not to laugh. “though, pregnancy psycho-ness is definitely real.”

it is, rúben mentally agreed also, though his heart still sank further as he heard you talk about yourself in such ways. he didn’t want to call you ridiculous but come on, you were pregnant! didn’t they all count as compliments to a pregnant lady?!

“it is,” you let out a sigh, “i wouldn’t want to be around me either, just this big angry rhino walking around the house,” you laughed together, “he goes to a paris event on friday anyway, he’ll get a break and have plenty of french models to—”

a clear of a throat had you whipping your head to the door, seeing rúben’s hard stare. your mouth went dry. “uhhh, ines i’ll call you back.”

you felt bad hanging up as she was speaking back, too shocked you’d been heard rambling for the last couple minutes. or probably longer! how long had he been standing there?!

“listen—”

“french models?! french models, y/n.”

“rúben, it’s not in context—”

“oh i heard the context, i heard everything,” he came in the room, not one spot of happiness found on his face. he was fuming. you could tell, and disappointed too, you felt like eli getting told off by him, throwing yourself back into the couch as he stood with that gruff, intimidating look, hands shoved in his pockets.

“you don’t get it—” you could already feel the tears welling in your eyes, though a pit of frustration was brewing in your chest hot and fast. this was going one of two ways.

“what don’t i get? you don’t tell me what’s wrong when i ask you!”

“‘cause you wouldn’t understand!”

“ok but what i do understand is my wife accusing me of what? getting to pick which ‘french model’ i want to take home next week?”

now your face fell flat, realising how ridiculous and cruel that sounded. you shouldn’t accuse him of that kind of stuff.

“rubes, i just—” your mouth felt dry again. tears brimming again, you could feel how hot they were. the words were on the tip of your tongue but you didn’t know how they were gonna come out.

“what is it? tell me,” he pushed, eager for you to actually get out what you wanted to say so he could help sort it. “i’m here to listen.”

and you did, you unleashed it all. “people are assholes. your fans are assholes. i’m sorry but i cannot believe the stuff people have no issue saying to other people - pregnant people at that! as if the 9 months aren’t hard enough, i have this mob of men and women on my back, judging and critiquing my every outting. i can’t do it anymore, it’s actually ruining whatever self-confidence i have left!” the tears were streaming as you began your rant, choking down sobs as you moved your hands, a fury behind all the sadness.

rúben crouched down, wanting to be nearer as you let it all out. “every day, every hour, i have someone online, reminding me off how big i am, how unflattering my paparazzi pic is, how whale-like i am! how hard it’s gonna be to shift this baby weight! i’m getting put in competition with every other pregnant wife and girlfriend of your teammate and showed how much better they pull it off! how gorgeous they look all the time! how their bumps are ‘cute’ and small and ‘suits them.’ i heard it myself at your game the other day! it’s like they’ve never seen an un-photoshopped pregnant woman before!” you met his eyes, realising you were probably being silly and that there were bigger problems in the world. “i just feel disgusting, rúben. i never felt like this with eli, i was in this perfect little bubble but this time so different. i don’t want to leave the house when i know a monstrosity of photos are getting taken of me, pointing out every flaw. i don’t have a cute, small bump! i do look like a whale! i can’t dress sexy! and i get what people are saying when they say it’ll be a bit before you can look at me again ‘cause god knows—”

“shh,” he quickly silenced you, placing a finger to your lips. his brows were furrowed as yours did, fed up of hearing you ramble about all the bad things about yourself. he felt pain in a way. he just couldn’t believe you actually thought these things about yourself. “wha— . . . are you being serious?”

“OH MY GOD!” you threw your arms up. see!

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, meu amor,” his big hands softly caressed your legs in front of him, along your smooth thighs to stop you from exploding again, “i’m sorry. it’s just . . i . . it annoys me that you let these things get to you, these random, strange people that you don’t even know. you take their opinion over mine. so mine doesn’t matter, it doesn’t count?” he looked you deeply in the eye, “how does that make sense? explain that to me.”

your head hit the cushion as you groaned but rúben held your hands comfortingly. he didn’t want to make you feel stupid, but he wanted to hear your thought process. “to me, it’s like . . you have the choice of walking into a room full of all these people who hate you, and you know the hate you, after being in one full of people you love . . and you go into the hateful one and are surprised that all these people are saying all these bad things about you when you could have just left it alone and focused on the lovely ones - from people who matter to you! who are actually in your life! do you understand?”

you nodded along, entranced by his eyes and how they were able to ground you alone. “you know that i think you’re the best thing in the world. you know i would love you if—” he thought off the top of his head, “you had 10 extra toes. a third eye. if you had a cow nose. elf ears!” your hair slipped silkily through his fingers, “you know i think you’re the most beautiful woman ever even dressed in a trash bag. i would still love you if you did wear trash bags. if you had a cow nose. if you weighed the same as a cow. if you weighed the same as a baby cow,” you broke a chuckle at that. “i’ve loved you through our ugly teen years, when i shaved my hair and your eyebrows were stick thin,” you laughed more as he let out a breath of relief, “i loved you when with vomit down your shirt and your hair dyed that weird colour—”

“rúbennn . .”

“what? and i loved you when you had eli in your stomach, and he was big baby,” his hand touched your belly, moving it in the same motion he always did because that’s when he got to feel the small kicks of this baby dias. “i loved you even more even when i saw how he came out,” he shot you a wildered look.

you facepalmed, dragging your hand down dreadfully at the thought of having to relive that moment all over again in over a months time.

his features turned as his thoughts turned sour, “why are you letting stupid fucking people affect you?”

“i don’t know . . i guess ‘cause so many people are saying it i . . it must be true to some extent—”

“y/n—”

“seriously, rúben. i don’t have a cute, small bump. ines and rebecca are always such sweet—”

“Y/N! have you SEEN the size of bernardo and phil next to me! is it any wonder they’re small! their child comes out the same size as them!” his hand shot out with passion.

now your head was in your hand with muffled laughter, caught off guard by his statement. “seriously! seriously, now you’re supposed to be the smart one,” he tried to look at you, that loving smile shining your way as his heart sang at the sound of you laughter. “you’re shocked that me, that we, have big babies . . that ines has a much smaller bump than you . . are you serious? that rebecca has a smaller bump than you? rebecca, phil and elway stacked on top of each other wouldn’t even reach the height of me!”

“rúben,” you laughed, feeling an actual blush of embarrassment coat your face at how stupid he’d made you feel, but in a good way.

he was so right. what were you thinking?

“i’m like, the biggest guy on the team! sorry i didn’t realise that was gonna be a problem for you,” you lightly hit his shoulder to wrap up the sarcasm, still giggling. he looked at you from the floor, his hands still on you, on your leg on bump — the bump that he did make look small next to his hand. “and please remember you’re a month away from giving birth, you’re supposed to be a healthy size. and i been going to training an hour earlier ‘cause i know when this one comes along, i’ll not want to go as much and i’ll want to stay with you both. i’ll start working on my dad bod . .” he felt the small, subtle movement happening inside, but he could feel them if he kept still enough.

“you’d look good with both.” you rolled your eyes.

“and you’d still look better. y/n, you’re not a whale. please stop saying that,” he finally crept to his feet, climbing on the couch on top of you, leaning his arm behind your head. “you are the most beautiful-est woman to me and no-one, NO-ONE can convince me otherwise. you’re my standard of perfect, of gorgeous and sexy and all the rest of it. i’ve found you sexy before this baby, during this baby, and after this baby — i still get comments of people telling me how ugly i look when you’re next to me! you bring my value down!”

his arm wrapped around your neck while the other threw itself over your bump, shifting and snuggling into the sofa more comfortingly, you relaxed alongside him, the tears no trickling down but with good reason behind them as you were shocked to find your love growing even more for rúben when you thought it was impossible. “i don’t know what comments you’re seeing because all i see are the ones calling you a milf, and it takes too much time to try and report them all.”

you held his hand at your shoulder, his lips kissing your cheek repeatedly, over and over again. you knew how much he loved you. “yeah, you’re right. fans are just . . assholes.”

“fans are assholes,” he agreed, stroking your cheekbone, “. . don’t listen to them. you think i listen to everything they say about me?” he perked a brow.

sometimes! you wanted to say but knew better. it was rhetorical question, and you knew his sweet intentions.

“alright? i don’t so why should you? you’re hot stuff babe,” he looked at the side of your face, inspecting every little freckle and faint scar, he just wanted to never stop kissing you. “i love you the way you are. eli loves you for the way you are, and this baby,” he rubbed circles on your belly, “he or she is going to be so unbelievably lucky when they see who they have as their mam. i know it’s not the smallest bump but i think it’s the cutest i’ve ever saw, with my baby girl or boy in there,” he kissed the size of your stomach. he grew more and more excited each day as he got a day closer to meeting who was inside. he couldn’t wait. “. . who they get their good looks from and skill and personality - well, i mean i would like to take some credit for the both of those ‘cause i mean their daddy is pretty c—”

you playfully jabbed his side, making him laugh. “yeah, he’s the hottest one on the field,” you glanced at him, kissing his cheek.

one thing about him, he’d always blessed you with beautiful children.

“yeah, and their mum is coolest one at the school pick up,” his lips trailed along your cheek to your jaw, the slight scruff of his beard tickling you. “you’re the biggest milf to walk the planet–”

“rúbennn,” you chuckled, blushing at his words whilst trying to push him away.

“i’m serious,” he proceeded, peppering kissed down your neck, “and she’s coming to paris with me for the weekend so she can outshine me like she does at every event she comes to.”

you laughed at that, smiling dreamily as he proceeding to love on you.

“and eli?”

“elias gets to stay with his favourite uncle who owes a favour,” he winked.

“hmm. ok.”

“and i’ll give her a reason to cry if she starts thinking like that again,” he whispered in your ear.

your heart slipped a beat. “oh yeah?”

“ohh yeahhh,” he nodded, standing to his feet, not before a loud ‘smack’ echoed the room as he mimicked what your poor backside would get if you kept up that kind of behaviour. “see you upstairs, mama.”

you blew your hair from your face, heart thumping, your hands slowly crept up to your adorable little bump where you caressed it gently as he headed for upstairs, whispering softly, “you are soo lucky he’s your papai.”

your heart raced as he peeled his hoodie off, back muscles staring right at you as he headed for your room, you felt your insides begin to sizzle.

— but you were even luckier he was your husband.

[inkspiredwriting]

The Diner of Destiny - Part 2

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: Okay, some of you wanted a second part. So I thought why not? I've never written a second part to any of my stories, so I'm not so sure if the second part is any good.

Warnings: spoilers for season 4 episode 5-6, angst

Five wandered through the fractured remains of countless timelines, driven by a singular purpose: to find y/n, the woman he had unwittingly erased from existence. He had become a phantom, slipping between realities like a shadow, his resolve hardening with each failed attempt. Every timeline, every world was a dead end, a cruel reminder of the life he had obliterated with one careless choice. But giving up was never an option. He had to find her.

Weeks blurred into months as he tirelessly pursued the faintest hints of her existence. Fragmented memories, distorted whispers, and fleeting visions of a woman whose face he had never truly known. Each clue led him deeper into the labyrinth of time, and each step weighed heavier on his conscience. He was close—he could feel it.

Finally, one day, in a timeline that felt strangely still, as though it had been waiting for his arrival, Five found her.

She was sitting in a small, secluded garden, surrounded by overgrown ivy and vibrant flowers. The sun cast a warm, golden light over the scene, but there was an air of melancholy that clung to the place, as if it remembered the things that had been lost. Y/n was there, her back to him, her head bowed as she absentmindedly traced patterns in the dirt with a stick. She looked almost like a statue—beautiful, but untouchable, frozen in a moment that he had shattered.

Five approached her cautiously, his heart pounding in his chest. His footsteps crunched softly on the gravel path, and y/n looked up, startled. Her eyes met his, and for a brief, agonizing moment, it was as though she recognized him. But then the flicker of familiarity vanished, replaced by confusion.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice tinged with wariness but not fear. There was a gentleness in her tone that cut Five deeper than any anger could have.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry, and for the first time in a long time, he hesitated. How could he explain the unimaginable? How could he make her understand what he had done?

“My name is Five,” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m not sure how to say this, but… you were supposed to be someone important to me. To all of us, actually. But I made a mistake, a terrible mistake, and I… I lost you.”

Y/n’s brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of his words. “Lost me? I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. We’ve never met before. How could you have lost me?”

Five’s chest tightened with the weight of his guilt. “You’re right. We’ve never met. But we should have. I was supposed to find you, fall in love with you. You were supposed to be my anchor, the person who kept me—and all the other versions of me—grounded across the timelines. But instead, I got involved with someone else, someone named Lila.”

At the mention of Lila’s name, Y/n’s expression softened, but only slightly. “Lila?” she echoed, the name unfamiliar and distant.

Five nodded, his voice trembling. “Yes. I thought I was making the right choice at the time, but it was the wrong one. Choosing Lila… it erased you from our lives. You were supposed to be there, and because of me, you weren’t. I took away your life, your future, and I didn’t even know it until it was too late.”

Y/n stared at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deception or malice. But all she saw was a man haunted by his mistakes, a man who had come to her not for forgiveness, but for something even more elusive.

“What do you want from me?” she asked quietly, her voice laced with a sorrow she didn’t fully understand.

Five closed his eyes for a moment, gathering the strength to continue. “I don’t know if I can make things right, but I had to find you. I had to tell you what happened, even if it doesn’t change anything. I’m sorry, y/n. I’m sorry for what I took from you, for what I took from all of us. I just… I wanted you to know that you mattered. That you were supposed to matter.”

Y/n looked down at the ground, her hand still clutching the stick. She was silent for a long time, and Five feared that his words had only hurt her more, that there was nothing left to say. But then, she spoke, her voice soft and distant.

“Do you really believe we could have been happy?” she asked, almost to herself.

Five’s heart ached at the question, at the lost possibility of what could have been. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “But I would have liked to find out.”

Y/n nodded, her expression unreadable. “I can’t remember you,” she said softly. “But something in me feels… something. Maybe it’s just the idea of what could have been. Or maybe… maybe there’s something more.”

Five watched her, his breath catching in his throat. This was it—the moment that could change everything. But even as hope flickered within him, he knew the truth. He had come too late. The damage was done, and there was no going back.

“I wish I could change what happened,” he whispered. “But all I can do is tell you the truth. You deserved so much more than what I left you with.”

Y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with a sadness that went beyond words. “Maybe we were never meant to be,” she said quietly. “Maybe… maybe this was always how it was supposed to end.”

Five shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. “No. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. But it’s what I’ve made it. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Y/n stood slowly, the stick falling from her hand as she faced him fully. “I don’t know if I can forgive you,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I appreciate that you tried to make things right. Even if it’s too late.”

Five nodded, the tears finally spilling over as he met her gaze. “I’ll never stop trying to make it right,” he vowed. “Even if I never see you again, I’ll keep looking for a way to fix this.”

Y/n gave him a small, sad smile, the kind of smile that spoke of acceptance and resignation. “Goodbye, Five,” she said softly. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, her figure growing smaller and smaller until she disappeared into the distance. Five stood there, alone in the garden, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. He had found her, but he had also lost her—again.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the garden in a blanket of twilight, Five knew that this was his burden to bear. He had made a choice, and now he would live with the consequences for the rest of his existence. The woman who was supposed to be his anchor, his salvation, was gone, and he was the one who had pushed her away.

And so, with a heavy heart and a mind full of regrets, Five turned and walked back into the shadows, disappearing from the world that could have been his. The timelines would go on, fractured and unstable, and he would continue his endless search for redemption. But deep down, he knew the truth—some things could never be undone. And some losses were meant to be permanent.

The garden, now empty and silent, bore witness to a moment that had passed, a possibility that had slipped through time’s fingers. And as the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, Five’s silhouette faded into the night, carrying with him the memory of what could have been, and the sorrow of what never was.

[l0v3-qu4rtz]

Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Model!Reader

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: SMUT. SMUT. (very badly written) SMUT. MDNI, thank you. very poor description of model shows, talks of lingerie, cursing, rough sex (?), light choking and hair pulling, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, teasing derek at the end. Kinda proofread ? Not rlly.

A/N: Hiyo, so i posted this like a long time ago (a month ago) on AO3 but I just decided to post this on here now because why nott ?? Lemme know what you think, and if I missed any warning please lemmeee knowww, also should I make this a series ???!!!! <333

You stood behind the curtains backstage, anxiously peeking through, towards the crowd. You look down at your phone, "on my way, I'll be there in 30 minutes"  It's been 40 minutes, where is he ? you knew dating an FBI agent that his schedule was gonna be busy but you've been telling him about the show for weeks, he promised he would make it. You were out in 5 minutes and still didn't spot him. You were tempted to call him, ask him where he was, but decided against it. Your manager was rushing you to get in position to walk out but you were stalling as much as you could in hopes that Reid would magically show up. 4 minutes now.

YOU: Where are you ? I'm out in 4 minutes.

SPENCE: Im here, love. Backrow.

You felt your heart coo at the petame. You heard your manager yell for you to get in position for one last time, you rushed into position, handing our phone over to your manager. You specifically asked Reid to come because it was a lingerie fashion show. Think Victoria Secret, You knew Spencer would go crazy upon seeing you in lace and ribbons, you were giddy with excitement as you think about walking past him, you knew what he was risking coming to your shows so you wanted to make it all worth it. You heard the show director counting down as you take your robe off and adjust your hair and accessories. You put on your best poker face and start walk.

Walk, just walk. Look straight ahead, don't turn your head. Do not go looking for him. You repeated in your mind, each step you took making a direct impact with the runway. Your arms swaying back and forth, hips swaying. You were extra nervous, this was the first time Spencer finally agreed to come to one of your shows and your heart could've jumped out of your chest knowing this. You kept everything on beat, from your steps to your hip sways. Once you reached the end of the runway, you put your hand on your hip as you shift your weight onto one foot, flashing a smile occupied with a quick wink before turning around walking back. 

You finally notice Reid in the back row as he said, making direct eye contact with him for only a split second before looking forward again.

From Reids point of view, once you made eye contact with him, he knew he was done for. He attempted to keep his composure, legs crossed, his hand on his chin, but inside a small fire was lit inside him that only grew brighter and bigger with each step you took. As the show reached the end, and you did the final end walk with the rest of the models, Reid was completely captivated by your walk, the way your hair bounced with each walk, the way your hips swayed, how you walked in a perfect straight line. Spencer knew he had to get his hands on you, and it was a craving he had to satisfy as quick as possible. Backstage, you decided to just put your long coat over your robe as you gathered your belongings together and talk with your manager. 

"Oh by the way, heres your phone" He says as he pulls your phone out of his pocket. "You got some very interesting texts, lets just say"

You roll your eyes at his teasing remarks. You open your phone and see two messages from Spencer.

SPENCE: You knew what you were doing by inviting me to this show.

SPENCE: I'm waiting outside for you in the car.

You smile, biting your lip as you read the texts. You gather your stuff and say bye to your manager before heading out. You spot Reid's car and rush over to it, your slippers hitting the concrete. You enter the car, Reid giving a small smile as you enter. You greet him but receive no response. You furrow your eyebrows, watching his face, hes deep in thought and keeping his focus on the road. You reach over to softly touch his arm.

"Spence, what's wrong ?" Your voice is laced with worry. 

"Just wait til we get home" he growls in a low tone, his jaw clenching. Keeping his focus on the road. You feel your heart skip a beat at the comment and a soft pulse in-between your legs. You let out a soft and quiet moan, getting comfortable in your seat. Counting down the minutes before you reach home.

As soon as you enter through the front door of his apartment, You're started by the sound of Reid slamming the door, turning around, Reid attacks your lips. Practically ripping your coat off and tossing it, he pushes his lips into yours so forcefully you arch your back and lean back. Arms wrapped around his neck, you deepen the kiss, sticking your tongue in his mouth and tangling your hand into his curly hair. He pushes on the couch, unbuttoning his shirt, looking down at you with lust and desire in his eyes. "I can't wait to be in the bedroom, im taking you right here, right now" he growls "Take that robe off." He commands in a deep, sinful voice.

You undo the robe straps and pull the silk material down your shoulder. He lets out a low groan, quickly wrapping his hands around your neck, pushing you into the couch cushions. "You dirty whore" He whispers into your ear as he grabs the robe, yanking it onto the floor. "You kept that on on purpose, huh ?" he snarls. He lightly pushes your head into the cushion before standing up straight. "Take off my belt" You follow his command, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants. But right as your about to unzip. he grabs a fistful of your hair and guides your eyes up towards his, "Use your teeth"

He lets go and you lower your head towards the zipper. Gripping the small slider, tasting the sour metal against your tongue, you start to unzip. Right as you let go, your hands trail up to the waistband of his jeans. Leaving him in only his boxers. you admire the tent of black fabric before starting to palm and lick his shaft through the fabric. Hearing his low groan and feeling his hand softly massage your scalp only motivates you even more. Spencer tries to hold himself back, but ultimately gives into temptation and pulls you away by your hair. "Fuck your teasing" He says in a low, impatient tone. He pulls his dick and shoves it into your mouth, beginning to fuck your face, relishing in the sounds of your gags and soft moans.

"That's it, take it like the good little girl you are" he praises, shoving his dick deep into your throat before allowing you to pull away. "lay on your back." He demands as you catch your breath. You immediately lay down on the couch as Spencer positions himself between your legs. He leans down and begins to leave love marks all over your jaw and neck "Beg for me" he growls lowly in your ear. You start whimpering and whining "Please Spence, fuck me... Use my body and show no mercy.." He grips your neck and snarls. "Use the right fucking name" You gasp quietly and whimper "Please.. Doctor.." He chuckles sinfully, reaching behind you and unclipping your bra with one hand.

He pushes himself up and takes a few moments to admire you "so gorgeous.." He whispers to himself before slipping his fingers under the band of your panties. With one swift motion, he rips them off. The tear echoing the apartment so does the small welp you let out. He wastes no time lining himself up with your opening. He waits there for a few seconds, enjoying the sight of you squirming under him. Without warning, he rams into you with full force knocking a lustful scream out of you. 

"Take It, love. You can take it." He whispers as he starts at a quick pace, slamming into you over and over again. You both are a moaning mess. You scratch down his arms and arch your back, each one of your moans getting louder and louder. He groans at the feeling of your nails peeling the first layer of his skin. He wraps his arms around you, his pace quickening by the second. "Doctor.. im.. gonna.." You can barely even finish your sentence as your breath is knocked out of you with every pound into your core. "Good girl, cum for me princess. That's it, bunny" he whispers in your ear, through moaning. You once again use your nails to scratch down from the back of neck all the way to his back as you let out a loud moan. You feel your whole body shake and your hole tighten around him. 

Spencer moans at the sudden squeeze, his thrusts becoming almost animalistic as he reaches his climax. He moans out your name as he finished inside you, letting his cum pour inside of you with one final thrust. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of being filled. Spencer pulls away from you, cupping your cheek "Are you okay, princess ? Did I hurt you ?" he asks through labored breathing. You shake your head, your mind still coming down from your high. Spencer lans up and kisses your forehead "You were such a good girl, baby. I love you so much." You feel your body slowly relaxing "I love you too, Spence" You both smile sweetly at each other and share a sweet, passionate kiss. 

 

The next morning at work, Spencer was grabbing coffee while reading his book. He was standing near the counter, just sipping on his coffee when Derek came up to him. Derek said a quick greeting to him while pouring a cup for himself. He was about to walk off when he noticed the red marks on the back of Reids neck, reaching over and pulling his collar down slightly. "Hey, what happened Reid ?" Morgan asks slightly concerned. Reid turns around covering it with his hand. "What ?" Reids cheeks flush red as he remembers where he got it from. Derek notices it, a wave of realization hitting it as he smirks and puts his hand on his shoulder. "My man" he says teasingly before walking away.

[godjo]

✮ — ptolemaea.

you poor thing sweet, mourning lamb there’s nothing you can do it’s already been done

tags — wriothesley x afab!reader. 4k wc. yandere. noncon. non-explicit smut with allusions to oral sex (both receiving), rough sex, creampie, doggy style. minors, blank, and ageless blogs dni. 

from hunter — this is a repost. i listened religiously to ethel cain’s ptolemaea while writing this piece.  ✮

“step onto the platform, please.”

your stomach churns; what little you consumed that day threatens to spill from your mouth. there’s a continuous eddy in your mind, the headache affecting the strength of your bones. 

would you ever be prepared to face this kind of dilemma?

you have been given no chance to contemplate before the security in charge pushes the small of your back. you stagger towards the middle of the platform that will bring you down several feet underwater. as it starts to descend, you inhale whatever amount of fresh air you can, dreading that it’d probably take time before you could see the outside again. 

it’s just for a few months. all you have to do is endure your sentence, and you’ll be free. 

the air slowly turns scant the deeper you descend, as though you’re being submerged even in the absence of water. it doesn’t help that all you’ve seen so far is an endless stretch of metal, closing in on you, augmenting your anxiety. after what seems like forever, the elevator halts, hinting at your arrival, and there you struggle not to marvel at the magnificent view of the water outside. 

however, the security standing by your side tugs at your arm. another wave of nausea fills your throat with acid as the receptionist registers your information and recites the crime you’ve committed. sealing your fate as a prisoner is a quick mugshot before you’re brought to the administrative area. 

your wild eyes scan the area, noticing other newcomers lining up horizontally before a huge metallic door. they are stricken with the same anxiety as you, evident in how their throats are bobbing, their eyes burning holes in the ground.

“stand up straight. the duke is here,” the security announces as the gigantic door creaks open. 

“he’s here; we’re going to die,” the man beside you whispers in hysterics. 

his apprehension is a contagious disease, crawling to stick onto your skin, corrupting what little courage remains in your spine. 

your breath becomes strained and like everybody else, you’ve done your best to make your presence smaller. what is it about the duke that triggers this kind of paranoia?

“ah, here are the flock of lambs,” a strong voice dripping in confidence pronounces, causing the rest of the prisoners to shrink in size, as though all they’ve wanted is to disappear. “should i say ‘welcome’? or you’d rather we skip the pleasantries and go straight to business?”

looking at him now, you understand why the mere mention of his name evokes such palpable horror. he’s a man of tall stature and rough demeanor. his hair, unkempt yet strangely glossy, adds to the unnatural charm he possesses. it’s dark like a raven’s feathers, interspersed with strands of gray that somehow enhance his roguish appearance. 

he starts his scrutiny at the other end of the line, saving you for last. as he scans the prisoners, his mouth remains in a tight line, with an occasional cock of the brow or twitch of the lips. 

“and for the last one…” his tone tilts between authority and mischief, leaving no room for defiance. 

your heart hammers against your ribs, but fear holds your gaze down. mentally cursing yourself for potentially igniting the duke’s ire, you flinch when his warm fingers swiftly lift your chin. 

you suck in a sharp breath, expecting to be greeted by annoyance. what’s painted on his face is an expression you cannot quite name. his pale gray eyes are blown wide, penetrating you straight to the soul. lips slightly agape, he displays an image of someone utterly surprised. it hasn’t taken long for colors to flood his face again, delivered by his conscious recognition of the prisoners’ gawking stares. 

the duke clears his throat, summoning back his menacing aura. he motions for the nearest securities, instructing that they discuss the rules and send the prisoners to their respective bunkers. 

however, he finds your eyes again just as you’re preparing to follow the throng. 

“you. follow me,” declares the duke. 

it couldn’t have been anyone else, even though you turn around to see if he’s speaking to someone other than you. realizing the weight of the command, your heart lurches in your throat. how much anxiety can you handle for a day? and what could possibly compel him to seek a private audience with you?

behind the gargantuan doors, you find yourself yet again inside an unsettling chamber. the aged yet robust metal dominates the space, boasting the formidable reputation of the fortress of meropide. once or twice you have envisioned yourself barred in this place, courtesy of your way of living, but nothing can size up the fear of being here in flesh and bone. 

“i’m over here,” the duke echoes from above.

cut away from your reverie, you ascend the stairs upwards to the third level. the metal sculptures of three-headed wolves catch your eye, their craftsmanship a marvel, set amidst numerous bookshelves filled with various genres. in the center of the room sits a spacious table piled with papers, while another stands to your right, equally laden with documents.

“you’re probably wondering why you’re here,” he begins, reclining the back of his lower body against the table, strong arms crossed over his chest. “don’t worry, i’m not gonna hurt you. i’d merely like to ask you a few questions.”

through your parched throat, you respond, “ask away, your… your grace.”

to your surprise, the duke’s shoulders shake as his mouth echoes a merry laughter. 

“c’mon! loosen up. don’t you remember who i am?” he asks in between full-throated chuckles. “have i changed that drastically?” 

don’t you remember who i am? 

now that he’s mentioned it, there’s a wriggling part of your brain that finds him familiar. however, try as you might to fish for a particular memory involving him, you can only grasp at nothing. he remains just a figure you likely crossed paths with on a street somewhere.

“i… i can’t remember—”

he spreads his arms in glee, closing the distance between you without respect for personal space. large hands capture your shoulders, then, shaking you with undeniable enthusiasm. 

“it’s me! wriothesley! the boy from the orphanage. remember?”

memories flood your mind: blurred recollections of a boy with raven-like hair and pale gray eyes, scenes of a brawl in the yard where his fists repeatedly struck another orphan’s jaw. more images rush in: him behind bars, and you offering a piece of bread to his bloodied hands.

“wrio? is that really you?” you ask breathlessly. your hands have found their way on his shoulders, too. 

“yes, it’s me! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? how are you?” he looks like he’d seen a ghost, but there’s no trickle of terror in the planes of his face. only wonderment and utter euphoria. before you can respond, he raises a finger and dialed the nearest telephone, commanding whoever is at the end of the line to bring refreshments inside his office. 

he leads the both of you to the lone sofa before repeating his question. 

“well i… i tried to get by after the adoption,” you tell him, pursing your lips at the memory. “it wasn’t so dreadful, being in that house, but i wouldn’t claim that it had been easy. how about you?” your eyes wander at the expanse of the room. “you govern the fortress now? what even happened to you?” 

wriothesley’s lips stretch to a smile. “yeah. who would’ve thought that a rascal like me can do it, right?”

you playfully punch his shoulder. “you’ve always had that command in you, wrio. even when we were in the orphanage. you stood tall and lived by your principles. no wonder papa and mama liked you so much back then. speaking of which, do you know where they are now?” 

after your adoption, you haven’t had the ability to contact the orphanage and ask about everyone’s well-being. since you have been living by scraps, you’ve focused instead on surviving without any spare time to visit the orphanage. 

“papa and mama, huh?” an overcast went over his eyes. his words have a bite to them that you cannot decipher. when he looks back at you, there’s a cloud on his face as he mutters, “i killed them.”

the confession immediately turns your veins cold. he looks dead serious.

“what?” a nervous chuckle reverberates from you. “that’s a bad joke.”

his eyes are the most unsettling gray you have ever witnessed. 

“i know you haven’t had the best experience with your adoptive parents. none of the adopted children had. papa and mama took care of us, just so they could sell us. do you know that some of the children even died after being adopted? i did the right thing killing those fuckers,” he confesses without a trace of remorse for the gravity of what he’s done.

this is too much to take in one sitting. your head throbs again with a new intensity. perhaps it’s the years that you’ve been gone that exacerbates his revelation. you vividly recall the day you parted ways with the orphanage owner, tears in their eyes as they reluctantly let you go to your new foster parents. it was a poignant farewell, etched as your last memory of them. now you wonder, was it all a facade?

before you can bombard him with a set of questions, the arrival of refreshments completely dismisses the whole tête-à-tête. the security who’s placed the glasses on the table bestows you a questioning look; one that you would’ve missed had you the heart meet wriothesley’s gaze. through his dubious disposition, you realize how bizarre the scene might have looked like for an outsider. 

wriothesley overlooks the whole fortress, and you are a prisoner meant to serve your time. why are you drinking with the duke?

shame has found its way to settle in the pit of your stomach. you feel self-conscious about your appearance; a full day without bathing since your capture is not how you wished to present yourself to your old acquaintance. he’s climbed his way up as one of the authorities in fontaine, while you remain at the bottom of the food chain. things are not the same. 

“i should probably go to my bunker,” you voice after the security’s departure. “it doesn’t look good that you have a prisoner here.”

“nonsense,” wriothesley counters. “you’re not a stranger. and i don’t care whatever crime you’ve committed on the surface: you are my visitor here.”

you shake your head. despite the multiple stealing you’ve done until now, you still harbor a sense of dignity. it’s just as they say: you do the crime, you do the time. 

“no, wrio. i’m here as a prisoner. i’ll do whatever is required of me. it’s my punishment.” 

wriothesley sighs in defeat; an action you haven’t expected to come easily from him. 

“alright, then. you win.” he reaches for your hand and grasps. “you won’t deny me the occasional meals, though? you’re still my friend and it’s the least i could do for you.”

that marks the highlight of your first day inside the fortress. 

never in your wildest dreams could you have anticipated such a twist of fate, yet you can’t deny the comfort of seeing a familiar face in this bleak environment.

as the days of your imprisonment tick by, you’ve adapted to the routine within the prison walls. you’ve learned the importance of coupons and how to obtain them to survive. unlike most inmates who are tasked with heavy labor, you find yourself often idle. this is not due to any sloth on your part, as you’re eager to earn your keep, but it would seem as though the rest of the administrators have no job to assign you. which is peculiar in a sense that everybody has something on their hands. 

“how are you coping?” wriothesley asks during lunch. it’s one of those days when he’d summon you to eat with him. 

you fork the food on your plate, too conscious to wolf them down. the cafeteria’s open layout exposes the generous hospitality being extended to you, making you acutely aware of the conspicuous display. somehow, it gets to your skin, as though you have no more face to save. 

“everybody’s nice,” you reveal. they really are; there’s no lie in the statement. truth be told, the fortress is like a community where you work and earn a living. however, by definition, it remains a huge cage for wrongdoers like you. “but i can’t wait to go out.”

the cafeteria holds its breath when wrio’s utensils clatter against his plate. eyes turn towards your table, speculation rife that an argument is brewing. you glance around nervously, aware of the attention drawn by his prolonged silence.

“a… are you alright?” you stammer. 

“yeah,” he answers before lifting his head and displaying a smile that does not reach the eyes. “there was a weird taste in my mouth. what were you saying again?”

“oh… forget it,” you answer, wanting to dismiss the whole conversation as quickly as possible. “it’s nothing important.”

“i thought so,” he whispers without erasing his uncanny smile. 

at first, you conjectured that the source of wriothesley’s hospitality stemmed from his time at the orphanage, when he was punished for misconduct. unaware of the rules as a newcomer, and traumatized by the sudden upheaval in his life, he was quick to lash at the other kids. there had been a time that he would’ve beaten another orphan to death had no one interfered. it was only by the grace of the owners that he wasn’t kicked out.

in contrast, you had strived to keep a low profile during your orphanage days, knowing that well-behaved children stood a better chance of adoption. only once did you veer to the path of disobedience, and that had been the time when you stole bread for wriothesley. 

that first and last encounter had been brief and quickly forgotten over time, only resurfacing now upon your unexpected reunion.

you wouldn’t have expected that such a simple act of charity would help you tremendously during your life’s biggest disaster.

from the bottom of your heart, you acknowledge that life in meropide would have been harder without him. the depth of your gratitude for his companionship transcends words. and you swear by all the archons, you appreciate all that he’s done for you. 

that’s why it doesn’t make you feel good— not at all — to betray such munificence with doubt and a feeling of disquiet. 

have you gone paranoid? can you trust your guts? or are you simply unaccustomed to kindness?

but it’s not any of those things, is it? 

you wrestle with the idea that your paranoia might be justified. there’s validity in a way that your heart hasn’t been tranquil ever since the repudiation of your release. such holdup hinges on your distant aunt’s failure to communicate with the administrators of the prison. they refuse to issue your release without her signature. 

at first, you dismissed the dreadful news with masked disappointment. she lives miles away from the fortress. a little patience is all you need. yet, the absurdity gnaws at you—why should an orphaned adult still require the consent of a relative who never cared? 

for months you mingled with the rest of the prisoners without trouble. what harm could a few more days bring? and it would’ve been easy except for one thing. 

together with the anticipation of freedom there springs wriothesley’s unnatural behavior. certainly, you have been accustomed to his magnanimous nature, but not to his seemingly obsessed disposition. 

for one, he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. on the night before your release, you’ve woken up just to see him inside your bunker, sitting with arms hugging his knees at the edge of your bed, head tilted downward. the pounding of your heart drowned out all other sounds, making sleep elusive and confrontation daunting. convinced he would offer an explanation in due time, you pretended that nothing happened the next day. 

how many times has he sat there, barging in your bunker unannounced while guarding your sleep? you shudder at the thought. but it’s time you put an end to your suspicions. it’s time that you go up there, in his office, and find the answers you seek. 

“i’m sorry, but as per the duke’s order, no one is allowed inside until his return,” the security standing guard outside wriothesley’s office announces. 

“i told you; i was ordered to clean his office,” you insist for what seems like the thousandth time. of course, it’s a lie. however, you are not going to pass up the opportunity of sleuthing, especially with wriothesley’s absence. 

“the answer is no. it’s a strict rule from the duke himself,” he repeats. 

you swallow the bitter reality of what you’re about to do. you have never thought of weaponizing wriothesley’s treatment of you, but he leaves you with no choice.

“so, if he comes back and finds his office in disarray, i only need to mention that a certain guard wouldn’t let me in, right?” at your words, the security blinks frantically. “do you know how much wrio favors me? or do you need proof? but i’m telling you, right now: the proof wouldn’t be as pleasant for you.”

as you stand inside the room, your eyes sweep across its vast expanse, searching without a clear idea of what evidence you seek. yet, an instinctive feeling drives you—the conviction that the reason behind the prolonged delay of your release lies hidden somewhere within these walls. relying on your years of stealth and skill as a thief, your confidence grows in your ability to navigate this risky venture unscathed.

this is a bold move, facing potential consequences, and you know better than to underestimate wriothesley.

to summon a leveled head, you breathe, in and out, while fishing for the lock pick tucked inside your back pocket. 

you waste no time climbing the stairs to his desk. all proceedings certainly go through him before anyone else. perhaps you can find your release paper, already signed, among this endless heap of legal documents.

no, if he intends to keep it, he wouldn’t have it openly displayed. though the reasons for wriothesley’s denial of your freedom elude you, instinct alone guides your courage. abandoning your sleuth, you move on to open the drawers instead. beads of sweat dots your forehead, heart refusing to calm down as the lock pick you fashioned from a scrap metal jammed into the keyhole.

there’s nothing inside but another stack of paper containing the fortress’ mundane transactions. the weight of uncertainty bears down upon you like a relentless specter, your eyes flickering towards the staircase with a mix of fear and urgency. moored by the bookshelves, you grasp a volume, its hard cover yielding warmth against your palm. pages are turned in rapid succession, driven by your inexorable desperation to find something.

it has to be here. it has to be. 

“where is it? where is it? where is it?”

quick! where else would he keep it? think, think, think! 

“found what you’re looking for?”

hearing his voice feels as though you’ve pummeled down from the steepest cliff; that your innards have been hammered to smithereens; that your heart has been taken right from your ribcage. your veins turn to ice, knees threatening to buckle beneath you. 

“w… wrio…” you frenziedly grapple for reasons; anything that’d validate your suspicious presence in his office. “i was… i was just tidying up the space.”

“for what?” his eyes roam around the room that looks rather polished before settling on the book you clutch in your hands. “i didn’t know you’re interested in gardening.”

taking a gander at the book in your hands, you force a sheepish smile upon seeing its title. a comprehensive guide in gardening across different topographies in fontaine.

“if it’s not too much to ask, i’d like to borrow this book.” you steel your facade, refusing to give him an inch. it’s futile, knowing you’re crumbling inside, wishing to vanish into thin air to evade his palpable vexation.

“you see…” wriothesley begins, licking the inside of his cheek. “as far as i can remember, i told the guards not to let anyone in.”

you open your mouth to speak, but the grievous solemnity of his demeanor stops your words.  

“what are you doing here?”

“i told you, i was just—”

“what are you doing here?”

he already knows the answer; you just have to say it. like a feeble insect trapped in a spider’s web, you see no chances of escaping. the only thing you could do is to shackle your suspicions and hope that wriothesley somehow disproves them. 

“i was wondering about my release. it has been days and i…”

“grow suspicious of me?” he finishes. “thinking that i have something to do with it?” 

each step he takes brings your back closer to the bookshelves. until he has you trapped with his overwhelming presence. he’s so close you can smell a whiff of his perfume; even that exudes his unquestionable authority. 

“i just want to know the truth,” is your helpless whisper. you feel like a little lamb caught between the sharp claws of the wolf. 

with one hand, he takes the book from your hands, eyes never leaving your face, as he places it back to where it belongs. 

“oh, you’d never like it,” he divulges. 

mustering up the courage to flee from his entrapment, the thorns in your throat intensified after putting all your might to push him away only to suffer in vain. 

“please, wrio, let me go,” you huff, fighting back tears. 

your plea goes through deaf ears. not even a sliver of interest or acknowledgment can be seen in the depths of his eyes. 

“your aunt and her whole family left fontaine before she had to sign your papers. i had my men standing guard on her house just in case she comes back, but it’d seem she’s sold the whole lot to never come back,” he discloses. 

“what?” all the remaining hope stings you like betrayal. but of course, you should’ve expected less from a relative you’ve never even met before. 

wriothesley relaxes, but his body remains as overpowering before you. 

“i know what it feels like to not have someone, that’s why i didn’t know how to tell you,” he says, each word threaded carefully as if he refuses to shatter the delicate thing in front of him any further. 

to think that you’ve doubted him despite his keen interest in your well-being is more than enough to cause you unutterable shame. 

“i’m sorry, wrio. i… i didn’t know,” you admit shamefully. 

hand on his hip, he sighs, “i just can’t understand. after everything i’ve done for you, this is what i get in return?”

panic grips you in its cruel embrace. you shake your head, reaching for him. 

“it’s not my intention to hurt nor dismiss your kindness, i swear. i just… i’ll make it up to you.”

wriothesley perks up at the statement. it’s eerily noticeable how his grim bearing changes to that of a curious one. “you’ll do anything, then?” 

what accursed territory have you placed yourself in?

“anything.”

“then, kneel,” he commands after a heartbeat. 

there are two directions where your obedience can possibly turn to, and yet both choices cause your stomach to double over. in spite of your fear, you’ve acknowledged with terror that the point of return has already been barred. your knees buckle. 

fat tears dot the corner of your eyes, like crystal jewels of insurmountable value, as he unravels himself, and you take him in your mouth. he moves at first with delicacy, as though he fears of shattering such bliss. the warm flesh of your mouth, velvet-soft around him. you’re raw from shame; he’s rawed out from pleasure. 

diabolical desire urges that he push himself deeper, further, make you gag with guilt and watch your mouth reach him to the hilt. like dust of stars, tears now cling to your lashes, as your lips harvest the seed of his gluttony. 

in rapid succession he buries himself down your throat, reaching places no one else has trespassed in. your nails carve crescent moons on his pale skin, roguish marks to prove the existence of a fight, no matter how pathetic. 

he hungers, and hungers, and hungers. until his bones ached from his greed, and pleasure carves the pinnacle of release. beneath the ache in his incessant breath, he wells inside your mouth. when all sensibility has left, he taints your tongue with rife and thick globules, begging to be swallowed. 

tenderly he holds you, like his touches can heal your rotten sinews. at the end of his fingertips, your skin burns and he sinks you deeper into his pit. this place drowns in sweltering heat, from the shame, from the pain, from the guilt. the planes of your back settle on the oak table, etching the tale of his devouring. he peels you open with every lick; a fruit he wouldn’t mind the consequences of eating.

what is this, you think, the betrayal of the body? you despair how you shiver from his tongue; how you reek of humiliation when his fingers push into your dripping flesh. fog over your head, the clouds somber, the cruel zenith warm on your stomach, exploding in shades of red. since when did pleasure and poison start tasting the same?

“on your stomach,” he whispers, eyes dilated with barbarism.

the hunger continues. another triumph, another defeat. fingernails raking the wood, another tale of wrath unheard, of innocence gone. he lodges between your legs, pushing himself through the fluttering folds, tarnishing the flesh. your throat burns but you will not scream. 

he fucks you with absolute abandon. he fucks you with an appetite of a man deprived. 

lips between your teeth, crimson trails down your chin. he wants to turn your insides into pulp; to rattle both your bones and knit them together. with increasing greed, his movement turns rabid. your eyes glossy, your tears silent, as you swallow the vile reality of fulfilling his need. 

“i’m so close,” he grunts, the sound of his voice coming from deep within. 

your silence is a rebellion against your traitorous body. shrouded with mortification, you flare around his length, and he revels at the feeling. he concedes to the tight sensation, spilling every fiber of his being inside the warmth of your flesh. there’s too much of him inside you, that he leaks like liquid ivory from the wet and abused hole, trailing languorously between your shaking legs. 

you run to the abyss, to the sweet caress of sleep, hoping that once you wake up, you’re whole again. 

wriothesley observed your countenance as you slept upon the couch, noting with curiosity the weariness etched upon your features even in repose. he gently draws the silk sheet to cover you fully, then rises from his seat. proceeding to the telephone, he summons a meal, foreseeing your imminent awakening and the hunger it will bring.

now, he proceeds to one of the bookshelves, retrieving a particular book. a comprehensive guide in gardening across different topographies in fontaine. to think that you’ve been this close to knowing the truth. 

he opens the book, flipping through its final pages until he locates the concealed folded paper. despite the creases marring its surface, the parchment appears new. unfolding it has given him a sense of relief, like an anchor to his sanity. 

it reveals the deed to your aunt’s estate, which he acquired shortly before your release. now, the elderly woman resides a great distance away, forever barred from returning.

they would be foolish to return, especially with their lives at stake.

wriothesley’s lips curl in a bitter twist. believe him when he says he never intended for you to endure the same fate as he did. yet, endure it you must, just as he once did, for he is not so benevolent as to set you free.

[smutstevington]

Resensitized | Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You need a place to move in, and your new friend has a spare room. Turns out, he's a porn star, and now you can't stop thinking about him. What ever will you do?

Part 2 here and part 3 here :)

Word Count: 7.6K

Warnings: MINORS DNI PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING, smut, Pornstar!Eddie x fem reader (no defining characteristics or use of y/n), modern day, friends to lovers...kind of? Fingering, oral (fem receiving), protected p in v, the knee thing™️, Eddie is a soft dom but also a simp, reader is his exception, and they were roommates(!)

A/N: I'm baaaaack! I was randomly inspired by this concept and couldn't stop thinking about it until it was done. Please know I wrote this with as much respect to sex work as I could, but there might be some inaccuracies just because I'm not too familiar with the industry nowadays. Until next time! xx

-------------------

You met Eddie at a party. He was a friend of a friend’s plus one, so he didn’t really know anybody, and you noticed nobody was talking to him, so you went over there and struck up a conversation.

Eddie was sweet. Eddie was goofy. Eddie was a little rough around the edges, but ultimately gave you good vibes. You ended up talking to him for quite a while, and when the night came to an end, you realized you didn’t want to stop talking to him. 

It wasn’t, like, a crush thing - although, he was handsome and definitely crush material - it was more that it was hard making friends as an adult, and you liked being around him. So many times, you’d met people and left them just as fast, and you didn’t want that to happen with Eddie.

You gave him your Instagram, which he followed, and then you requested to follow him back, which he accepted. 

You didn’t talk much for a month or two. He didn’t really post anything, but would comment or react to your posts and stories. Most often, you complained about your living situation - your landlord and your roommates were awful, and eventually your lease came to an end. You jokingly posted - “who’s gonna help me find a new apartment?”

Eddie replied - I don’t know if you’d be interested, but I might be able to help.

It turned out that Eddie had a room vacant in his two-bedroom apartment. The idea seemed kind of out there at first, but you realized it wasn’t much different than searching for roommates online. Besides, this was safer, since you knew Eddie already, and you couldn’t afford an apartment by yourself, so…

You went over to look at his place, and holy shit. It was incredible there. Clean, although slightly cluttered with his various belongings - movie posters, music, video games, and the like. Also, the rent he was asking for was absurdly low. It felt like a no-brainer.

“Eddie, this is - I mean, this is perfect,” you told him. He grinned. 

“Okay,” he said with a nod. “Uhh, there’s just one thing I feel like I should tell you before you move in.”

“What is it?” you asked. Suddenly, you saw Eddie get nervous, and you couldn’t possibly predict what would warrant that reaction. He took a deep breath. 

“Maybe you already know, but it feels like you don’t know? So I just - ugh. If you don’t know, I think I gotta tell you.” You stared at him, confused.

“Eddie, I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”

He smirked slightly, then sighed as his hands fell to his sides.

“I…do…porn?” he said at last. You stared at him blankly as you processed this.

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate,” you replied. “Like OnlyFans?”

“Sometimes,” he answered. “Look, I - I’ve done it for a few years, and I guess I’m kinda popular. It’s why a lot of the time, people stay away from me, because it puts them off. Or, they’re embarrassed about recognizing me, which I guess I understand. But anyway, that’s why I was surprised you never said anything or asked me about it. Judging by your reaction, I’m guessing you had no idea.” 

Huh.

“I…really didn’t.” 

It wasn’t that you were judging him - not at all - but living with someone who did that sort of thing brought up all kinds of questions. Eddie’s anxiety returned. 

“Ah, shit. That ruined everything, didn’t it?” He ran his hands through his hair. “I just - It’s how I make money, but it’s not my whole life or anything. But I felt like you should at least know about it if you were gonna live with me.”

“Do you do any of it here?” you asked. Eddie shrugged.

“Sometimes.”

You nodded slowly.

“Like, in the living room or just your room?” His eyes narrowed as he tried to assess how you felt through your line of questioning.

“Uhh - my room. I mean, I guess there was one time on the couch, but for the record I’ve gotten a new couch since then. Oh, and if you move in and don’t want me filming anything here, I won’t. Not even solo stuff. Shit. Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, I just have a pretty casual view on sex and I kind of forget that not everybody -”

“I think I’m okay with this,” you decided. 

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You looked around the beautiful apartment that would save you a crap ton of money, and you realized you couldn't pass this up. Besides, you weren’t a prude. “My last roommates had loud sex all the time, and our walls were so thin it felt like I was intruding, somehow.” Eddie laughed, his anxiety easing slightly. “Plus, I don’t care what you do. I bet it’s good money. As long as I’m not in any of the videos, we’re good to go.”

“Wow,” he responded, stunned. “I honestly didn’t expect you to be so cool about it.” You shrugged.

“Just don’t eat my food and we should be fine,” you concluded. 

“Deal,” he replied. You shook his hand, and thus began your time as Eddie Munson’s roommate.

-

Ohhhh, this was a mistake.

Living with Eddie was a total breeze for the first two months. He was respectful and didn’t talk about work at all unless you asked him about it, which you didn’t. You both were pretty busy people so you didn’t even see each other that often. 

But then, two months in, you got curious and watched one of his videos.

Holy. Shit.

First of all, you couldn’t believe you’d never stumbled across him before in your searches, because he was, like, really popular. He’d undersold himself, for sure. Although, you didn’t watch porn that often (you preferred reading it or listening to it), because usually there was something off about it. Like, the women felt like they were acting, or they weren’t even trying to hide that they were acting and were really bad at it, or the dirty talk was weird, etc etc. 

Eddie’s videos were not like that. 

(Yeah, after the first one you watched a few more).

Look, the man knew what he was doing. He had chemistry with everyone, and something about it was captivating. It’s not like you were getting off to them - that would have been weird - but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you the fuck on.

He hadn’t been lying either about the locations. None of the videos you’d watched were recorded at the apartment. 

You weren’t sure if you would have cared if they had been, though. Like, as long as any shared furniture was cleaned after, it wasn’t a huge deal, right? Pretty much every couch anywhere you go has been used for sex at some point. So, this wasn’t much different.

Anyway, watching Eddie’s videos had been a mistake, because now when you saw him in the morning, pouring himself a cup of coffee in his robe, you knew what he looked like naked.

Fuck.

“Morning,” he said casually. “Want some?” You nodded, and then he took another mug from the cupboard and poured coffee into it for you. When you went to the kitchen counter to grab it from him, his knuckles brushed yours, and you jumped a little at the touch. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. You went to the fridge and took the creamer from the shelf, then topped off your coffee with it. 

“How’d you sleep?” you asked. 

“Good,” he replied. “Oh, so I’m going to the grocery store in a bit. You need anything?” You took a sip of your coffee before answering. 

“Uhhh, yeah, but I was actually planning on going myself,” you said. 

“We could go together,” he suggested.

You took another sip of coffee as a way to stall, even though it was too hot. You had no reason from his perspective to say no - the two of you had gone on errands together a few times, and it had been fine. Besides, you legitimately had to go to the grocery store, so if you said no and went later it would just look suspicious.

”Sounds good,” you agreed with a smile. He smiled back, then nodded. 

“Great, just let me know when you’re ready.”

You finished your coffee in your room, because being around him was making you nervous. It was so dumb, feeling this way. Nothing had changed. You were the same people you’d been yesterday. Watching that video was an incredibly poor choice, but at the same time, how were you supposed to refrain? You lived with a guy who was famous for getting women off. You wondered how you hadn’t known any of this when you’d first met him, but then pieces came together. The reason he was alone at the party. Why his Instagram was private. Why he didn’t have a roommate. 

When you agreed to move in, you promised yourself you wouldn’t be weird about it, and now here you were, hiding in your room because you were too awkward to maintain small talk with your roommate. 

Eventually, you got dressed and psyched yourself up for what was to come. You just had to get those videos out of your mind, that’s all. 

Easy enough, right?

Wrong!

“Did you listen to the song I sent you yesterday?” he asked as you walked to the car.

“Uh, no, not yet,” you replied. He clutched his heart as if you had broken it, then laughed.

“Okay, well then I guess I know what we’re listening to on the way.”

Once again, all of this should have been easy like it always was. But you couldn’t stop staring at his hands on the steering wheel, the rings on his fingers, and - God forbid - his lips. And his eyes? Forget it. 

“Good song,” you said, staring straight ahead at the road.

“Of course it is, I picked it out,” he teased. You saw him glance at you in your peripheral vision. “Everything okay? You’re quiet today.”

“Everything’s fine,” you blurted out, maybe too quickly to be convincing. 

“Ooookay,” he responded. “Well, I don’t believe you, but you can keep your secrets.”

You remained slightly awkward and flustered around him, particularly any time he touched you. He’d tap you on the shoulder to get your attention, or reach across you to grab a bunch of bananas that you were standing in front of, and it came to a point where you told him you had to go off on your own to grab something just because you knew you were totally giving yourself away. But after a few more minutes to yourself in the chips aisle, you felt relatively normal again. 

Disaster only really struck on the way home. 

“So, this tattoo place on the right,” he said. “That’s where I usually go. The guy who works there is incredible. His designs are sick as hell.”

“How many do you have?” you asked. He scrunched his eyebrows as he thought about it.

“I guess it depends on what you’d count as one,” he replied. “Like, I have almost a half-sleeve on my right arm, but I didn’t get it all done at once.”

“Count them however you’d like.” He thought about it some more, then shrugged. 

“I have a lot of them, and I always want more.” 

“I’ve heard it’s addictive,” you replied. “So, what would you get next?”

“I’m thinking about adding to the one on my thigh,” he answered. 

“The witch?” you asked. He raised his eyebrows. The tattoo on his thigh was pretty iconic, actually. It was a woman on a broomstick with her tits out. Not something you would ever personally get, but Eddie pulled it off. “Are you going to give her a friend? Or a bra?”

Eddie snorted laughing, then covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle it. It didn’t work, and he burst into laughter again.

“Come on, my joke wasn’t that funny,” you said, rolling your eyes. Eddie’s laughter finally faded enough for him to explain. 

“I never told you what the tattoo was,” he informed you. Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake.

“I - um -”

“That’s what’s going on! You looked me up!” he exclaimed. Despite your absolute humiliation, he seemed to only find it amusing. “Don’t get all shy about it. It’s fine. I’m honestly impressed you held out this long.”

“Can we not talk about it?” you asked, trying to awkwardly laugh with him but mostly wishing you were six feet underground. 

“Whatever you want, roomie,” he replied with a grin. “I’m just glad I didn’t do anything wrong.” You bit your lip, then released it.

“No, you did pretty much everything exactly right,” you responded, deciding to lean into the awkward situation. Eddie licked his lips and smirked. 

“Good to hear,” he said, smug. He pulled into your apartment complex, parked the car, and took the keys from the ignition. You felt like you couldn’t breathe in there, so you rushed out of the car and made a beeline for your front door as soon as you were able. He caught up as you worked the lock open, and you could feel his eyes on your shaking hands. “You know, you’re cute when you blush,” he said.

The door unlocked and you pushed it open, but it’s not like the apartment you shared with him was going to be any less charged. You tried to continue acting less nervous than you were. 

“Oh, you’re flirting with me now?” you teased, leaving your keys on the counter. His voice continued behind you.

“I flirt with everyone,” he said. “Sorry, I’ll reel it in. Just, we were talking about -”

“No, I know,” you interrupted. You turned around, deciding to face this situation head on, since you were already knee-deep in it anyway. “Okay, let’s talk about it.” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“About what I do?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Alright. What do you wanna know?”

You took a deep breath and asked something that you’d been wondering for the last two months.

“Is it weird, knowing that most people you know have seen you naked?” 

Eddie didn’t seem fazed by the question in the slightest - not that you expected him to be. He shrugged.

“I like the way I look,” he replied. “It actually doesn’t bother me at all.” You clicked your tongue to your teeth and asked another question.

“Does anything about it bother you?” To your surprise, he took the question seriously, taking his time as he came up with a response.

“It definitely feels like I live in a different world a lot of the time,” he answered. “Like, I go to work, I meet the person I’m supposed to fuck, and then I do whatever I gotta do to get them off. That’s all it is, really. After a while, it just feels like going through the motions. The excitement isn’t really there anymore. On the other hand, I make a shit ton of money to have sex with beautiful people, so…”

You tried to ignore the way the heat rose to your cheeks as he talked about work. From what you’d seen, it was clear that not one person had faked their enjoyment for him. Of course, it made you a little curious what it would be like, but not curious enough to do anything about it.

At least, not yet.

“You’ve never, like, caught feelings?” you asked. “Or maybe gotten coffee with one of them? Wait, do you ever have sex off camera?”

“Wooow, you’ve really been thinking about this, huh?” he teased, jumping up to sit on the counter beside you. Being next to him was starting to feel comfortable again, now that you were speaking freely. “Uhh, well for starters, I don’t have sex off-camera very often, honestly. My job doesn’t make it that easy to date. And yeah, I’ve met up with partners after if I feel like we’d get along, but I don’t know. It always feels more like friendship than anything else.” You cocked your head curiously.

“But you had sex with them,” you pointed out, confused.

“You’ve never fucked one of your friends before?” he asked. You shook your head. “Oh. Well, like I said, my perception of this kind of thing is a little skewed.”

You nodded slowly, then realized those were all of your main questions. Talking about it actually did make things a whole lot better. 

“Thank you for being so open about it,” you told him.

“Thank you for sticking around,” he replied. “And seriously, you can ask me anything. Or, we can never talk about it again. Up to you.”

“Thanks,” you said with a smile. “I’ll let you know.”

He went off to do his thing and you did yours, and that was that. Things went back to normal again, more or less - at least for another week. 

The problem was, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. When you were trying to sleep at night, your curiosity coursed through you to search his name again, and it became increasingly difficult not to succumb to it. You didn’t want to cross that line, though. It felt like a necessary boundary to have. 

Instead, you did what you usually did. You read, you listened, you pictured things in your head.

Your mind always wandered to your roommate anyway. 

One night, Eddie had left, and he was supposed to be gone until morning. You used it as an opportunity to walk around naked, watch romantic comedies on the couch, and listen to music he’d hate as loudly as you wanted. It was glorious. 

You were in your room dancing in a t-shirt and underwear, and it was turning out to be an excellent night. Eventually, your friend called, so you chatted with her for a bit on speaker phone as you put away your laundry. Naturally, Eddie came up. 

“Okay,” she said. “There’s a really simple solution here, and it’s to fuck your hot Sex-God of a roommate.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s not simple, and it’s not a solution,” you replied. “And our relationship isn’t like that. I can’t believe you looked him up.”

“Of course I looked him up! One of us had to!” your friend shouted back. “And, can I just say - damn.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you responded with a sigh. “I’m just trying to be…respectful.”

“It sounds like he doesn’t care at all,” your friend noted. “But I get it, I guess. You’re a lot stronger than I’ll ever be.” You laughed.

“Thank you, I think I deserve a medal for going through this while also not having had sex in six months.”

“Absolutely,” your friend agreed. “Alright, girlie, I’m headed to bed. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hung up the phone and hung a few sweaters up in your closet, then walked into the kitchen to grab yourself a drink. The problem was, when you got there, you realized that Eddie had beat you to it.

“Want something?” he asked, bent over into the fridge.

“Fuck!” you yelled, jumping back. “What are you -? Why are you - ? When did you -?” Eddie laughed and grabbed two beers from the fridge, then closed the door and handed you one. 

“Relax,” he said. “My plans fell through so I came home early. I like your pants, by the way.” You looked down at yourself to realize you weren’t wearing any. You chuckled, then pushed him away from you.

“Dick,” you said, cracking the can open. He did the same, and then you clinked your beers together before each taking a sip. “Thank god I’m wearing some clothes. I wasn’t a few hours ago.” 

“That’s hot,” he teased. 

“Shut up.” You turned to go back to your room so you could put real pajamas on, and were confused when he followed you in. 

“Your friend has a point by the way,” Eddie said. You froze in your tracks, then pivoted to face him.

“What?” you asked, your stomach dropping to the floor. “Wait, how much of that conversation did you hear?”

“Uhhh, well I definitely heard that whole last part about me,” he replied. “Six months, by the way? I agree, you do deserve an award for that.” 

Jesus Christ.

“Oh my God I have to move out,” you said. Eddie laughed, then pulled you closer to him by the wrist. You felt your breath hitch at being so close to him. Your eyes met his, and you immediately felt hypnotized. 

“Listen,” he said, his grip on your wrist burning into your skin. “Feel free to tell me to fuck off, but six months is a long time, and I could help out if you wanted.”

“Eddie, are you seriously suggesting…?” The corner of his lip twitched up slightly.

“It wouldn’t mean anything, obviously. I just know you’re curious, and since you’re going through a dry spell or whatever I could be of service. And then it would be out of the way, and you could move on.”

You stared at him, having a million thoughts at once.

Yes, you wanted that very much. The thought of it alone was already making your core ache and throb for him. You knew he would blow your mind, and it had been so long…

Then again, you also knew it was a horrible idea. You both lived together, and having sex would complicate things. Most of all, you knew that - despite what he was saying - it would mean something, and you wouldn’t move on. He could, but you couldn’t. That’s not how it worked for you.

“I can’t,” you said. He nodded and dropped your hand.

“Alright,” he replied casually. “Then you should go fuck someone else so you stop thinking about me.”

“I’m not thinking about -”

“Good night,” he smirked.

He left your room, and you heard him walk to his own room and shut the door. 

He was probably right. You needed to break your dry spell. So, you did what any sensible person would do and re-downloaded Tinder. By the following night, you’d found a suitable guy to hook up with.

You invited him to your apartment instead of going to his, because it felt safer. And Eddie unshockingly had no problems with it, so that wasn’t an issue. He said he was going to stay in his room and listen to music, and to just text him when you were done. 

So…you did that. 

The sex was bad. Like, remarkably bad. The man clearly had relied on his good looks and big dick and felt like that was enough. The worst part was that he thought he was nailing it the whole time. He was only over for about 45 minutes total, after which you told him you had to get to bed. He seemed disappointed, but also he’d just had sex so he wasn’t too bummed about it. 

You texted Eddie, and within a few minutes you heard his door open and his footsteps approaching your room from down the hall. 

“Damn, he’s gone already?” he teased, staring out the window to see your Tinder hook-up driving away. “That’s a shame. I wanted to meet the man that caused you to do the worst fake orgasm sounds I’ve ever heard.” 

“Eddie!” you yelled, wrapping your robe tighter around yourself. “You said you wouldn’t listen!” 

“I got curious! Sue me!” he shouted back. “Now we’re even. Curiosity got the best of both of us.”

You stared at him for a moment, then realized he was right. You sighed.

“Fine,” you said. “Thanks for recommending I do that, by the way. Now my body count is higher and my dignity is shattered.” Eddie laughed.

“Body counts are bullshit anyway,” he replied. “Sorry he couldn’t get you there.”

“Guys usually can’t,” you told him. Which was true - you mainly could only come using toys, and most guys seemed intimidated at the idea of using them. Like it was emasculating or something.

“I bet I could,” Eddie said with a smirk.

“I bet you could, too,” you agreed. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Have fun,” he teased. You rolled your eyes and made your way to the bathroom. 

Showering did clear your mind a bit, but made you no less sexually frustrated. You tried to touch yourself, but weren’t getting anywhere, so you just got yourself clean instead. You put a fresh pair of underwear on and wrapped your robe around yourself, then headed back to your room. 

Eddie was right beside your door - leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He eyed you up and down, then took a step towards you.

“I have a question,” he said. 

“Um, okay.”

“Have you ever gotten off to my videos?” 

He asked it so casually, you needed a minute to even comprehend what he was saying, and even longer to realize he wasn’t kidding.

“Eddie, what the hell?” you replied. You tried to maintain your composure, but your attempts were futile. Especially when he looked at you like that. 

“I’ve just been wondering,” he continued. “Curiosity, that’s all.” You swallowed. 

“Not to any of your videos,” you answered. 

“To the thought of me?”

Yes. Not intentionally, but yes.

Your breathing became shaky, his words enough to get you worked up again.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice soft. 

“I’m helping you out,” he responded. “Salvaging your night.” He hooked his finger into the tie around your waist, then tugged you even closer to him. “I mean, if you want me to. The offer is there.”

Fuck it. You were tired of fighting your attraction to him. You nodded. 

“Okay,” you said. “Let’s just get it over with.” He smiled. “How do we start? Should I lie down? Is there anything off limits? What do I-”

“Don’t think about it,” he said, answering your line of questioning by silencing you. “Get on the bed.” He let go of you so you could walk into your room and follow his orders. You watched him rub his hands together and crack his knuckles as if he was getting ready to go to work - which made sense, all things considered. Then, he followed your footsteps to your bed and made his way towards you until he was settled beside you.

His hand trailed up your body until it settled in your hair. He gripped it tightly so he could angle your head to the side, then leaned over and pressed light kisses to your neck that sent shivers down your spine. 

“Do you like things on the gentle side or more rough?” he asked against your skin. 

“Healthy mix of both,” you answered. He hummed in approval, then licked a stripe up your neck until his lips were to your ear. 

“Talk to me during, okay?” he said. “Tell me what you want.”

Okay, this was officially worth it no matter the consequences.

“I like what you’re doing,” you responded. You felt his mouth return to where it had been before, except this time he found a sensitive spot and sucked on it. You gasped, so he did it again, harder. 

“Hickies?” he asked. 

“I’d rather not have them, but also please don’t stop,” you muttered. Your eyes fluttered closed as you enjoyed the sensations. His lips were soft but firm, and every point of contact with him felt like it was on fire.

“I can work with that.” 

While he continued kissing and nipping at your neck, his hand left your hair to snake down and pull the tie on your robe until it was undone. 

You expected him to take your robe off like he was unwrapping a gift - quickly and without precision - but instead he took his time with you. He was slow and deliberate with every action, opening you beneath him little by little and addressing each new exposed part of you before moving on and continuing. He groped at one of your breasts while kissing you, then kissed down your neck and to your other breast. His lips settled on your left nipple while his fingers worked the right one - pinching, sucking, biting, driving you absolutely crazy. 

“Fuck,” you moaned. “N-need more.” He released your nipple from his mouth with a pop.

“More what?”

“Everything,” you whined. You would have been embarrassed by how into this you were, but you were too busy enjoying to feel anything other than pleasure. “More. Harder.”

“Mmm,” he said. He adjusted his technique, now grasping at you more intensely. He grabbed the soft skin at your waist and squeezed, then curled around to cradle your lower back. His lips returned to your neck, and this time he bit and sucked so hard you let out a yelp.

“Too much?” he asked, leaning back to gauge the look on your face.

“No,” you responded. “I love it.” He nodded and got back to it, continuing to suck at your pulse point while his knee dipped between your thighs to push them apart. He bent his leg to slowly drag his knee up until it reached your center. It rubbed against you, hard, causing you to let out a gasp.

“Oh, shit,” you said, your voice desperate. “Do that again.” So he did, and then you found yourself grinding against his knee at your own pace. You were definitely going to leave a wet spot on his jeans, but he didn’t seem to care. Your breathing picked up, and you clutched at his hand so you could lead it to the band of your panties. He slid his fingers beneath the fabric and down your slit, spreading you open and exploring the parts of you most slick with desire. He circled your clit while he kissed your collarbone, slipped one finger inside you as he bit at your breast, then added a second finger and rolled them inside you until they found the soft, spongy spot that caused your eyes to roll back in your head. His mouth latched onto your nipple, tongue circling it in time with his thumb down below. You rocked your hips against his hand, needing more pressure. You needed him to fuck you, actually, but he seemed to be in no rush of doing so. 

Your stomach tightened as you felt yourself rising for him. He was going to make you come already, when he hadn’t even been touching you for that long. 

Suddenly, you were cresting over the edge. It happened so fast you didn’t have time to prepare or warn Eddie, although he seemed to know it was happening before you did. 

You gasped and moaned and cried out his name, your vision completely blacked out. Your hips continued to buck and your legs started shaking. Eventually, the waves crashed and you were centered in your body again. 

“Okay, wow,” you said breathlessly. 

“That was too easy,” he responded. You scoffed. 

“Yeah, yeah, you win,” you replied. “You’re just as amazing in bed as you look like you would be-”

“No,” he continued. “I mean - that was too easy, and I like a challenge, so I’m gonna see how many times I can make you do that.”

Within seconds, he was making his way down your body, pulling your underwear off of you, grabbing your ankles, and tugging your body towards him. He laid your legs on either side of his shoulders and dove his head between your thighs, kissing the spot that was still extremely sensitive. It was overstimulating, but felt so good you wouldn’t dare ask him to stop. He ate you out like he was poisoned and you were the antidote. He plunged his tongue into your hole as his hands spread you apart as far as you’d go. He kissed back up to your clit and settled there, teeth latching around it gently. Then, his fingers slid back inside you, and he continued to suck on you, and somehow you were already going to come again. One of your hands found purchase in his hair, and you pulled his head against you even more. The other hand clutched the sheets beside you desperately, crumpling them into a fist as you unraveled against his mouth. 

You hadn’t even realized how tightly your thighs were clenching around his head until you released him, but he didn’t move from where he’d been. He continued finger-fucking you and flicking his tongue side to side against your clit all the way through your orgasm and beyond. There was no recovery period or moment of relaxation. It hurt to have him there, a little bit, but not in a bad way. He bit at the fleshy part of your thigh so he had a second to catch his breath, but kept kissing you everywhere he had access and treating your body like it was his most precious belonging. 

Because in that moment, you did belong to him. 

Your third orgasm immediately followed the second. It was like he was destroying you - breaking down every wall you’d ever put up leaving you an absolute mess underneath him. His motions slowed, ever in tune with your body. It was like he could read your mind. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered. He sat up straight and removed his fingers from you, immediately putting them in his mouth to suck them clean. “You’re really good at that.” He grinned, his mouth and chin shining. 

“It’s my favorite part,” he replied. “Are you tapping out?”

“No, I -” Your head was spinning, but you absolutely did not want this to stop. “I just need a minute.” He chuckled, wiped his mouth, then pressed a quick kiss to your ankle. He moved your legs off him and back onto the bed, and then he laid down beside you and joined you in staring at the ceiling. 

“So,” he said, his hands clasped on his stomach. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you replied. Your gaze traveled down his stomach to the very noticeable bulge in his jeans. “So, oral really does it for you, huh?” Eddie turned to see your eyes fixed on his crotch. He exhaled sharply - the start of a laugh - then nodded. 

“Yeah. I’m good at it and I like it. But, I don’t know whether I’m good at it because I like it or if I like it because I’m good at it.”

“A real chicken versus egg kind of thing,” you said. He laughed. 

“Exactly.” 

“What else do you like?” you asked. 

“Hmm?” He seemed genuinely confused by the question.

“I mean, what else do you like? Not considering your partner’s pleasure, just your own.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because we’re about to have sex,” you replied.

“Are we?” he teased. You rolled your eyes.

“Answer me,” you told him. “I want it to be good for you, too.”

“But that wasn’t the deal,” he countered, sitting up. “I’m doing this for you, not me.”

“Why can’t it be both?” He still looked at you as if you weren’t making any sense at all. “Eddie, come on. Just tell me what you like. You’ve never been shy about sex stuff in the past, clearly -”

“I like being bit,” he answered quickly. “Especially on the neck and lips. And, like, the crook of my elbow for some reason?” You nodded, urging him to continue. He sighed, then laid back down beside you. “I like the idea of someone using me just to get off - degradation, treating me like I’m nothing, all that jazz.”

“The idea of it?” you repeated, turning on your side to face him. “You’ve never tried it?”

“Not really,” he responded. “I’m kinda known for the soft-dom thing I have going on, so that’s usually what I end up doing.” 

“Hmm.” You thought about his answer in the silence that followed, until he spoke again.

“You know what’s weird?”

“What?”

“Nobody’s really asked me that before.”

You looked at him, completely baffled at the situation. This poor man had only focused on his partners this whole time. No wonder he’d grown jaded to it.

“It’s been a minute,” you said. “I think I’m ready to keep going.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You could visibly see him shift back into work-mode. His eyes lit up and focused in on you again, and his hands went to his belt buckle to unfasten it. You sat up and kneeled on the bed, then helped him take his pants and boxers off and tossed them to the floor. You shimmied your robe off your shoulders and let that fall to the floor as well. He sat up in the bed with his back to the headboard so he could take his shirt off, and now you were both completely naked.

Woah.

You stared at his body, mesmerized by all the ink in his skin. You traced a finger delicately over the tattoos on his chest, shoulders, and forearms. He watched you appreciatively, a soft smile on his face, his expression peaceful. You reached over to your bedside table drawer and grabbed a condom from the box you kept there.

Then, you straddled him. 

“Hey, wait -” he said. “Look, I know what you wanna do for me, but it’s probably not gonna happen. Like, I don’t usually come from sex unless I help myself out.”

You kind of saw that in one of the videos. He’d been going with this one woman for like a half hour straight and nothing.

“I want to try,” you told him. He still didn’t look convinced. “Come on, you think only porn stars are good in bed?”

“I just don’t want you to feel bad if -”

You leaned in and kissed him, hungrily, your hands tangling in his hair. Yeah, he’d taken care of you, but you were far from satiated. You wanted him badly, and you wanted to make him feel just as good as he’d made you feel.

You could still taste yourself on his swollen lips, and that’s when you realized the two of you had never actually kissed before. You broke from him, concerned that you’d crossed a line.

“Sorry, I should have asked if kissing is okay first -”

He was kissing you again before you could even get your sentence out. His arms went around your waist, hugging you tightly until your chest was against his. You tugged on his hair, hard, and felt him smirk against your lips. 

He was growing impossibly hard beneath you, which only encouraged you to keep going.

You clawed against his back and his mouth opened up for you. You used this as an opportunity to suck his bottom lip into your mouth before biting it. 

He whimpered, which was just about the hottest sound you’d ever heard.

Your mouth traveled down his jaw and to his neck, where you gave him the same treatment he’d given you.

“Careful,” he managed to say (though his voice was weak). “I can’t be marked up for work.” You nodded, then grazed your teeth across his skin. He gasped, the grip of his hands tightening on your waist. You kissed him and bit him and sucked him on both sides of his neck, leaving no spot behind and making sure you didn’t stay in one place for too long. Eventually, you felt yourself craving him again - this time, you wanted all of him. 

Your hips rocked against his erection, and you knew it was game over the moment his bare cock slid up your folds. You moaned, then reached for the condom beside you so he could put it on. You shifted yourself a bit further down on his lap as he rolled it down his length, and then your eyes caught the tattoo on his thigh that started this whole thing - the witch, in all her glory.

“She’s looking right at it,” you said, your eyes fixed to the design. Eddie huffed out a breathy laugh. 

“Yeah, uhh -” he began, flustered. “It’s her - shit, okay - it’s supposed to be a joke where she’s looking at my dick because my dick is a magic wand, but that’s dorky as shit so usually when people ask I just joke that it’s because she’s a voyeur.” You smiled, then shook your head. 

“So, why tell me the truth then?” you asked. “What makes me different?” You looked at his blown out pupils, deep brown and infinite, and wondered why you’d spent so much time trying not to look into them. Maybe because now that you’d done it, you weren’t sure you could ever stop.

“I don’t know,” Eddie answered. “I don’t know why you’re different.” 

You maintained eye contact as you lifted yourself up and lined his cock with your entrance, and then you slowly let him sink into you. 

Oh.

The immediate stretch was incredible. Eddie was well-endowed and thick, and it was going to take a little work to fit him completely inside you. You started slowly, lifting yourself up and down - all the while, your eyes stayed fixed to his. 

His hand snaked between you to rub your clit slowly, getting you wetter and allowing you to accommodate his size better. You moaned loudly, unable to stop yourself, then began bouncing at a faster pace. 

You kissed his forehead, the sweat on his brow leaving your lips slightly salty. Then, you kissed the spot right next to his eyes, his cheek, his jaw, before finally reaching his lips again. 

Hungry. That was the best word to describe it. It felt like the two of you had each never wanted anything more in your lives as much as you wanted each other. He bottomed out inside you, and you began to lift yourself up and crash back down, slowly, but with force. 

“Faster,” he muttered. “Please, faster.” His voice was breathy and weak. A part of you wanted to tease him more - you wanted to drive him crazy and then watch him explode, just as he’d done to you. But the other part of you wanted exactly what he wanted, so you obliged. 

You started to ride him faster, rolling your hips in such a way where he was hitting the spot inside you that made you scream his name and pull his hair without abandon. He continued to work your clit until - somehow - you felt yourself building up to yet another orgasm. 

“Fuck,” you whined, continuing to fuck him exactly as you’d been doing. “I’m gonna come again.”

He whimpered your name, and then his words became incomprehensible. But you wouldn’t have been able to hear them anyway, because pretty soon you were coming so hard you were transported through space and time. Seriously, the feeling was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. He was taking up all the space in your body and your mind. 

“You’re so good, Eddie,” you said. Your words were muffled against his mouth, but you knew he understood them. “So fucking good.”

Your motions slowed down, and you started to make your way back to the room. He was staring at you, his eyes no longer piercing. They were soft and vulnerable instead.

“I’m sorry I didn’t -”

“That one was for me,” you interrupted. “This next one's for you.”

“What-?”

Your lips crashed into his again. You’d gotten your fill - more than your fill, actually - and now you just had one goal. 

Make Eddie Munson come. 

Easy enough, you figured. He’d given you more than enough clues to tell you how. With his dick still deep inside you, you kissed down his neck to his shoulder, then lifted his arm so you could make your way to the crook of his elbow. You sucked at the tender, sensitive skin. His eyes widened.

“Oh, fuck,” he said. You smirked, then dropped his arm and promptly fucked him as fast and rough as you possibly could. 

Eddie threw his head back in ecstasy, groaning and grunting and continuing to talk under his breath - only this time you were able to understand some of it. 

“Holy fucking shit…Jesus Christ…Just like that…”

Most of it was curse words. 

His fingers dug into your ass as he guided your hips exactly the way he needed them to go, and then all of a sudden he was twitching beneath you, his hands flexing, his jaw dropped. He desperately pressed open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone and breasts, holding you flush to him as you milked him for all he was worth. 

His breathing slowed, his face still buried in your tits. Finally, he leaned back so he could look up at you. You smiled and waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. He just kissed you instead - this time lightly and without urgency behind it. 

You let him slip out of you, then collapsed beside him, completely blissed out. He stayed seated and upright, although he did take the condom off and dropped it in the trash next to the bed. His eyes had turned pensive, his eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Everything okay?” you asked. 

“No,” he replied, staring straight ahead.

“What’s wrong?” He shrugged. 

“I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I felt like that.” You cocked your head in confusion.

“And that’s a problem?” you wondered. You maybe would have freaked out had you not just had four orgasms - Instead, you were just concerned.

“I don’t know.”

His head turned until you could see his expression fully, and you noticed there was a hint of a smile on his face. 

“Um, is there anything I can do to help?” you asked. 

“Yeah.” He grabbed your hand and took a deep breath. “You wanna go on a date with me?”

(Part 2)

-------------------

Feel free to make requests in the comments, through DM, or using my taglist! In the meantime, check out my the masterlist on my main account where I post non-smut content :)

@welc0me-t0-hellfire @nope-thanks @names-were-taken @teary-eyed-egg @mvnsonluver @msgexymunson @micheledawn1975 @mimsthebannished @joantje @mrsjellymunson @oh-my-grace @libbyhermione @agrownupgeekgirl @vintagehellfire @spikedhe4rt @stardustingold @bebe07011 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @tlclick73 @astridflowers @whisteriaremembers @martaboj92 @the-side-blog777 @demeterlindavis @starheartseddie

[written-in-flowers]

More Than Enough: OT8 X fem!Reader

Pairing: OT8 x Fem!reader

Genre: smut...just loads of smut...hints of fluff sprinkled inside

Word Count: 14k

AU: sugar baby/sugar daddies, contracted dating, polyamorous.

Rating: Explicit, very

Summary: A good movie night turns into something steamier when the members discover you haven't done your laundry yet.

Tags: poly relationship, breast play, nipple play, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mentions of it too, gangbang, bukkake (sort of), fondling over clothes and under clothes, group sex, cunnlingus, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, anal sex, vaginal sex, sex toys for men and women, blowjobs, handjobs, rough blowjobs/deep throating, slight edging, hella overstimulation, occasional degradation, multiple orgasms, somewhat bisezual sex, ateez!doms, sub!reader, mixed gentle and hard doms, breeding kink, protected sex until the very end so wrap it up because apparently I need to write that idk why it should be obvious but whatever, and lots of aftercare.

Next on Idol Companion

***

You pressed the ‘popcorn’ button on the microwave and hoped it didn’t burn. The popcorn coming out burnt would ruin everything. You spent all day fixing everything to work out: you bought more snacks and drinks, added movies to the watch list, and brought out blankets and pillows for everyone to sit on. The boys told you not to go through so much trouble for a simple movie night, but you couldn’t help yourself. It’s hard to get everyone home at the same time. Nights are typically the easiest, so you managed to make it work out. 

Waiting on popcorn, you turned to the refrigerator beside you. The members often posted small notes or reminders on the doors so everyone saw them. A few were written by you, but Seonghwa wrote most of them. On the side of the fridge, they’d pinned two calendars. One calendar showed the basic monthly flower and had the members’ overall scheduled days on it. Personal appointments, Wanteez shoots, photoshoots, live streams, and so on took up small boxes throughout the month. The one right underneath it happened to be an Ateez calendar, each month with a different group photo. You’d written down your own appointments or reminders for upcoming events there. You smiled softly when you spotted a post-it note plastered beside it. 

‘Reminder: PLEASE GO TO YOUR AGENCY APPOINTMENTS!!! Love you so much, -Seonghwa.’ he’d drawn a small heart next to his name, which made you smile. 

Someone posted another note right next to that one. 

‘No, seriously. Please go. They’ll think we’re keeping you hostage. Love you lots -Jongho.’ Jongho had drawn two hearts, which also made you smile. 

You giggled softly to yourself.  They were both right, of course. You’d been missing appointments with the agency because you’d grown to hate them. Every agency meeting included mental and physical examinations. You’d sit down with a therapist to discuss how your relationship with the members is going, if you have any frustrations or complaints you’d like to share, and your overall mental health. Then, you’d leave the therapist for the doctor, who runs a full body check-up on you, sometimes including blood work which you hated because you dislike needles. Your company agent, Sungmi, tells you it is to make sure your body is working to its best ability. 

Also, to make sure you’re free of pregnancies, diseases, or bodily traumas from sex. 

You shuddered imagining what ‘bodily trauma’ might mean, but you’d heard stories. Your tests always came back clean, so why did you need to go? If you had an issue with the boys, you simply sat them down and told them. They listened to you; they discussed and solved issues with you instead of pushing you onto their manager. Other women in your industry told you they hardly talked to their ‘boyfriends’. Kira, another Companion, said she mainly worked with her group’s manager. You understood those situations called for agency meetings, but you didn’t see the need for yourself. Seeing Seonghwa’s note, you knew he wouldn’t let it go until you went. You might as well schedule it before Sungmi did. 

The microwave alarm went off, and you withdrew the piping hot bag. You dumped it into the bowl, and sprayed a bit of butter. Mingi liked lots of butter on his, so you made a separate bowl for him. You knew he’d appreciate the consideration, but it was your job to know these things. As an ‘Idol Companion’, you are supposed to know things your partners like and do them to make them feel better. People who read about your situation online tend to think you’re simply a sex doll for kpop idols, and think they’re able to do it. You often shut down ignorance by telling people what you went through with your training. ‘Training’? Yes, ‘training’. 

Because, sex and looks aren't the only part of the position. You told these people they needed to be ✨ interesting ✨. Learning the art of conversation and entertainment are two key ingredients. There are also lessons in psychology, literature, dance, music, art, and history. You said a proper Companion knew how to appeal to all kinds of people, not a singular type. A Companion needed to be charming, charismatic, and intelligent. If a man or woman wanted an idol to like them, they needed to be more than a pretty face. Nowadays, Companions don’t date an entire group like you do, since they find more stability with soloists or dating non-exclusively. People who do date groups usually have a second or third partner to share “the load” with, but that really depends on the company’s budget. Ateez had no such budget when they began, so when KQ approached your agency, they could only select one. Not that you minded. You’d gained enough experience by then to handle all eight idols. Still, it is no easy task, especially with your chaotic boys. You have seen many outsiders try and fail to go through the process because they thought it was all about ‘dating hot Korean idols’. You won’t lie; it is certainly a perk, but there’s more underneath the surface, you’d tell them.

‘You’re not a prostitute. You’re a companion, a friend, a partner.’ 

Mama Kim’s words rang in your head as you finished Mingi’s bowl, and pulled out a bag of chips. You’d gone out and bought the spicy ones Jonhgo liked, since he’d mentioned craving them yesterday. Little things. It was all about the ‘little things’. 

“There you are, beautiful.” His shuffling feet alerted you to his presence and you looked over your shoulder to see Yunho walking into the kitchen. Very tall and broad shouldered, he ran his hand through his black hair and kissed your cheek. He looked over your face and hair, seeing the new style and length. “Gorgeous,” was all he said before pecking your lips. “I haven’t seen you all day,” he said, pecking your lips next and then grabbing a large bowl from the top shelf. “I thought you’d be home around lunch.” 

“I ran some errands after my appointment,” you explained, trying to open the bag, “And then I went out to lunch with some friends before going to see my parents. I told them I’d stop by sometime this week, so I took my free day to go.”

“How are they?” he asked, leaning on the island counter. “Is your mom feeling better?”

“Much better,” you answered, struggling to open the chip bag. Your parents both moved closer to you when they retired, so that way you’re not so far from them. “She keeps asking when I’m going to bring all of you over again. I told her we’ve all been too busy, but I can only say that for so long.”

Yunho opened the bag for you with ease, filled the bowl, and looked at the calendar. “We have time off towards the end of the month,” he said. “We can work out a day then. I’d love to see your parents again.” 

“We’re seeing YN’s parents?” Wooyoung walked into the room, white shirt hanging from his shoulders and black hair damp from a shower. “When?” He gave you a brief kiss then wrapped his arms around you. “I have to get your mom flowers.” He checked out your new hairstyle, and smiled, “You look beautiful, by the way.” 

“Thanks, and we’ll see them soon,” you said. “I was telling Yunho that she’s feeling better and wants us to visit.”

It took your parents a while to get used to your job; they thought it might be a bit much handling eight men. But, when they saw how happy the boys made you, they stopped questioning you. Honestly, they saw this polyamorous situation of eight boyfriends as a higher likelihood of marriage and pregnancy. Marriage meant financial security, stability, and someone would be looking after you when they’re gone. Pregnancy for them meant grandchildren they could dote over, spoil and brag about to their friends. You told them that you didn’t need a man or children to enjoy life or be happy, to which they said:

“Says the girl who has eight boyfriends.”

“We’ll be having some days off soon,” he said. “We can think of something then.” 

Yunho left the kitchen with the chip bowls, leaving you and Wooyoung alone. The youngest moved to grab a popcorn bowl when he hesitated. Your cheeks burned when you realized that he’d felt it. You’d sort of hoped they didn’t notice. With everything you did today, laundry ended up on the bottom of the list. But, they’re your boyfriends and are also men, so you shouldn’t be so surprised. 

And, yes, maybe you did hope one or two might notice. 

“No panties?” Wooyoung grinned widely, pulling your body closer to his. “Naughty.”

“I haven’t done my laundry yet,” you excused. “Someone used up all the detergent and didn’t buy more, and I forgot to buy some when I went out today.” 

“Uh-huh, sure,” he smiled, unconvinced. “You just so happen to be wearing no panties,” he pressed you to the counter, “On a night when all eight of us are here?”

“It is a coincidence, I promise,” you replied, not protesting when his hands gripped your hips. 

“Oh, sure, yeah, I believe you,” he planted more kisses on your lips. “Hm, perhaps we should go see your parents in a month or so. By then, we’ll have some good news to share-”

“-Wooyoung!” 

He sealed over your shared laughter with another kiss before someone else walked into the kitchen. “Who are we sharing good news with?” Yeosang arrived next, wearing a hoodie over his shirt and lounge pants. 

“YN’s parents want us to come over,” Wooyoung answered, releasing you and going to the fridge nearby to grab drinks for everyone. 

“Ah, fun,” Yeosang grinned. “You know I don’t mind going.” Yeosang brought you into his arms next, giving you the gentlest of kisses, before he also paused. Yet, instead of saying anything, he questioned you with a look and then smirked when you bashfully turned away. “Love what you did to your hair,” he said instead, “And cool, I like hanging out with your dad.”

“Yeah, your dad’s a cool guy,” Wooyoung agreed. You smiled at their compliments, “Any idea what movie you want to watch, babe?” 

“None at all,” you answered, watching Yeosang leave you to grab cups from the shelf. “I saved a whole bunch of movies earlier today, but I’ll let you guys pick. As long as it’s not another superhero movie; I’m getting so tired of those.”

“I’ll personally make sure it’s not," smiled Yeosang.

You followed the pair out of the kitchen into the living room. It's not by any means large, so the long sectional sofa took up the wall in front of the television. Seonghwa, Mingi, San and Hongjoong already occupied spaces in the room: Mingi took up the long chaise section of the sofa, with Yunho taking over the massage chair at the end. Seonghwa sat in the middle seat with Yeosang; San sat in the far right corner, with Wooyoung sitting beside Mingi and Hongjoong on the comfy armchair opposite the massage chair. You noticed one person still missing. 

“Where’s Jongho?” you asked them, noticing the youngest one’s absence. 

“Gaming,” answered San, bundling up underneath covers to avoid the chill in the room. 

Leaving the living room, you went down the hall to the larger bedroom. Beside a bed up against the wall, Jongho sat at his computer with headphones on and absorbed in his game. You stood there a few seconds to see if he noticed you, but when he didn’t, you walked up to him and gingerly lifted his headphones from his ears. Jongho let out a cry of protest, but quieted when he saw you.

“Movie night,” you answered his questioning gaze. “Come watch it with us.”

“Hm,” he leaned back in the chair, pondering thoughtfully, “I don’t know. I’m kinda deep in my game here. I’m not sure I could go right now,” he gave you a sly smirk. You’d have to convince him. 

“The game can wait,” you took his hand in yours and pouted, “I haven’t seen any of you all day. Come into the living room and sit with us. I got those spicy chips you like.” 

His hand was so close to your body, he broke away to wrap his arm around your waist and bring you into his lap. Giggling from the sudden pull, he blindsided you with a kiss that started light and quickly became tender. It was then that Jongho noticed it:

“You’re not wearing any panties,” he said in your ear, lust making him exhale deeply. “I can feel it through your shorts.”

“I haven’t done my laundry yet,” you said. “It’s no big deal.” 

“I feel bad for anyone sitting with you,” He gripped your thigh tenderly and said, “They’re going to have a hard time keeping their hands off you…especially when you’re not wearing a bra either.”

“But that’s not that new,” you replied, pushing hair from his face. “I rarely wear bras in the dorm. You’re all pretty immune to that.”

“Eh, not as immune as you think,” he disagreed. “I know there have been days where I avoided Braless YN so I don’t get inconvenient boners. Now, add no panties to that equation, and…you know what? I think I’m good here.” 

“Oh hush,” you giggled, moving to slide off him, “You’re coming with me, Mister.” 

“Or we can stay here,” he suggested, bringing you back to his lap, “And play while they watch the movie?”

“Another time,” you said, leaving his lap and taking his hand. 

Jongho sighed defeatedly and followed you back into the living room. You took a seat with Mingi, and snuggled with him underneath the blanket. The winter chill became more noticeable in the lounge area than anywhere else in the dorm. You regretted not wearing more layers than the tanktop, sweatshirt, and shorts you’d pulled on. Making a mental note to finally do your laundry was interrupted by gentle lips pecking the cartilage of your ear. 

"I missed you," Mingi said, kissing the spot again. "I haven’t seen you all day.”

“You did see me though,” you told him, flipping over to look at him properly. “You saw me this morning when you woke up.”

“I did?”

“Yes,” you laughed, recalling a groggy, disheveled Mingi leaving his room earlier that morning. “I said ‘morning, princess’ and you went ‘mmphrfmurmur’ and went into the bathroom.” 

“I don’t remember that,” he replied, smiling softly. “I was half-asleep.”

“When did you go to bed?”

“Late.”

The Ateez way of saying ‘probably at 2 or 3am’. You’d gotten used to hearing this answer from any given member, so you said nothing else and moved onto another subject. 

“What’d you do today?” he asked, putting an arm around you. At this, you saw a hint of realization hit him, but much like Yeosang, Mingi just kept on talking, “You were gone all day.” 

"Going anywhere but to her appointments," said Seonghwa, already munching on popcorn while waiting on the others to pick a movie. "Sungmi called," he said, "She's supposed to call one of us if you miss too many. Why aren't you going, babe? You know you're supposed to."

"They're going to think we have you locked up in a bedroom somewhere if you don't go soon," joked Jongho, who’d taken a spot between Yeosang and Seonghwa.  

"I don't need to go," you whined, turning over to look at him. "If there was something wrong with me, I'd know and I'd go."

"That doesn't matter," said Seonghwa. "Go to the appointment." He looked over at Hongjoong, who was arguing with Yeosang about the movie choices. "Hongjoong, tell her to go to her appointment. She listens to you."

"Nah, not that one! Let's watch the first one. That's the best one," he told Yeosang, not having heard Seonghwa.

"They're all lame, in my opinion," said San. "Does it have to be that one?”

"Hongjoong," Seonghwa threw a popcorn piece at Hongjoong, who looked at him affronted, "Tell YN to go to her agency appointments. Sungmi says she has to go or they're going to do a house visit."

"Why aren't you meeting with Sungmi?" He asked you curiously. "It’s not just for us, but it’s for your health.” 

"They schedule them too early," you said, giving him your famous pouting expression. 

"Then reschedule them for later in the day. You have to go to these appointments; it’s in the contract that you go at least every three or four months" he said. 

"But I don't need to. I’m fine.” 

"Oh, really?" A smirk slowly stretched across his face, "Maybe we should give you a reason to go, then? Since you don't have one?"

The others stifled laughter, and your cheeks burned again. The words 'bodily trauma' came back, and a shiver went up your spine. Not once have your partners pushed you beyond your limits or boundaries; they made sure you remained comfortable and safe as possible. Yet, the slight implication in Hongjoong’s question brought a creeping heat around your ears. You hid half your face to conceal your embarrassed smile. 

"I'll go," you squeaked.

"What was that?" He asked, tilting his ear towards you. 

"I'll go to the appointment tomorrow."

"Good girl," he smiled fondly. He turned to Seonghwa, "See? It's that easy." He turned back to Yeosang and San, “Let’s watch the first one. It’s so bad, it’s almost good.” 

Seonghwa chucked another popcorn kernel at him, though ruined the effect by laughing. The group finally decided on a film, and settled in as it started to play. Mingi curled into the corner of the couch and put his arm around you underneath the blanket, so your back remained facing him. The warmth of him and the blanket fought off the winter air pressing into the glass windows. The movie, a sci-fi film featuring a scientist, a county sheriff, and a pair of college kids taking on a half-octopus/half-shark monster, proved as terrible as Hongjoong insisted it’d be. Though, the boys and you took this in spirit; you all made fun of the movie rather than take it seriously. You laid there in Mingi’s arms as you enjoyed their company. It felt good being surrounded by all of them at once, rather than in pairs or smaller groups. 

A bikini clad girl happened to be screaming bloody murder when something else took your notice. At first, you thought the small bump might be bundled up fabric or simply your imagination. You focused your attention on the girl making feeble attempts to swim from the CGI shark-topus, but when Mingi shifted uncomfortably, you couldn’t help but move with him. 

“I’m sorry,” Mingi mumbled in your ear, lips right against the edge, “I can’t help it.”

“It’s okay,” you said as quietly as possible. You did your best not to move too much, but the hardness poking your ass tempted you. “I don’t mind.” 

“Oh?” Mingi slowly rocked his hips into you, the shaft of his length pushing into the fabric of your shorts. The lack of underwear caused an even more apparent warmth. His arms secured you close to him underneath the blanket, and he began kissing the crook of your neck. “Is that why you’re not wearing any underwear?” 

“Haven’t done laundry yet,” you said. Thinking about it now, you realized how they might perceive this, especially when Mingi’s cock twitched against you. “I didn’t have any to wear.” 

“And instead of washing some,” he began, “You decided to walk around without underwear? In this dorm?” you heard the accusation in his voice, and he laughed, “It sounds planned to me…and maybe I should give you what you want.”

“Mingi…” the heat from before crept over the rest of your body now, and the cool air no longer bothered you. "Here?"

"If that's what you want," he said, deep voice sending shivers to your core. "We can go to my bedroom instead. They can listen to us rather than watch this crappy movie." He kissed the crook of your neck, and said, "I know you like it when we overhear you…"

He wasn't wrong. You never said it out loud but anyone paying attention during sex would notice how aroused you became at being watched. Most of the members knew this, and the naughtier ones liked doing it within the vicinity of others. You gazed back into the room as Mingi groped and rubbed up on you. The other members sat near you; all of them remained focused on the movie playing in the living room, except for one. Hongjoong. He didn’t fully turn around, but he’d looked over to see you in Mingi’s arms. The light of the television illuminated the knowing smirk that went across his face. He scanned down your body, as if he could see through the thick blanket, and you bit back a whimper. He knew, even if nobody else noticed. Warmth began pooling between your legs as you pictured him coming over, pulling off the covers and pawing at you with Mingi. It wouldn’t be the first time. Your eyes stayed locked with his, and you gave a pleading expression. He glanced at the rest of the room as if to say, "Right here? You dirty girl." 

You wouldn't have denied it either. The dirtiest fantasies of yours involved all of them ganging up on you, using your body any way they wanted and bringing you to climax multiple times. Hongjoong knew this because you’d confessed it to him; he said it’d be the hottest thing you ever did. However, you never brought it up to anyone else. You weren’t sure if you could physically handle all eight men taking advantage of you. You knew possibly three or four is manageable for you, but eight is excessive. You knew if you did that, you wouldn’t sit or walk right for a while; particularly with how horny and dirty some members get in the heat of the moment. The full on orgy would stay in your fantasies. 

Mingi slipped his hands underneath your sweater, and you jumped at his cold fingers. Hongjoong didn’t look away; his leering didn’t alert anyone around him, so he kept watching. You dared to release a soft whimper when those hands grasped your breasts over your tank top. Mingi hummed in your ear, continuing to gradually grind into you. The movie’s volume drowned out any noises made between you, and your blanket concealed your movements. Hands over the tanktop and under your sweater, Mingi pinched and rolled your nipples gently. 

“You really like when he watches, don’t you?” Mingi asked. 

“A little.” 

He let his lips linger on your shoulder, “I think it’s more than ‘a little’.” 

The gesture sent waves of warmth to your lower half, where you started pushing back into Mingi’s hips subtly. You could feel Hongjoong casting occasional glances your way, which only added fuel to the fire. You felt Mingi’s length grow against you, the small bump getting steadily harder. Your pussy pulsed when he gave your tits another squeeze and pinched your nipples at the same time. Your thighs squeezed together for a form of friction, but wished for more. 

“You’re not wearing a bra either. I can’t resist you when you’re braless.” He pecked the spot beneath your ear and said, “It’s torture…You do it on purpose,” he added the last bit as he rolled your nipples in his fingers. 

A sudden gasp escaped you when a small surge of cold air snuck under the fleece blanket, and a hand slipped right between your thighs. You opened them to see Wooyoung right beside you on the floor. Dark eyes usually full of sweetness and innocence looked at you with seductive lust. His hand slid along the inner seam of your shorts; that dangerous seam connecting both sides together where he could feel your pussy the easiest. Merely the warmth of his hand built up your arousal further. His middle fingernail dragged against the seam, a very slight vibration coming from the friction. 

“He’s not the only one,” said Wooyoung, clearly having overheard you both. “I like looking at them too, but I personally think you should be bottomless instead.” He pushed his finger to your sex oh-so-slightly, causing you to exhale deeply. He could no doubt feel your bare sex underneath the flimsy shorts, since he then lightly rolled his fingers around it. He smirked when you clenched your thighs around his hand. “That way, I can see this pussy whenever I want without so many layers in the way. You always keep it looking so pretty and yummy,” he gave a small growl before sealing his lips over yours. Mingi continued groping your tits while Wooyoung fondled your pussy. “I can't get enough of it."

"Me neither," agreed Mingi, who continued groping your chest and kissing you. "But your tits are my favorite part."

Mingi pulled the blanket off you and lifted your sweater and top over your chest. You gasped at the sudden exposure, but it did not last long. Mingi shifted around to let you lay on your back as both men started licking and sucking your nipples. The sensation of two mouths teasing your breasts and two hands roaming your body electrified you. You tried staying quiet as Mingi firmly sucked one nipple and Wooyoung slowly swirled his tongue around the other. Wooyoung kept tracing the inner seam to drive you wild, and you almost forgot the other men in the room. ‘Almost’ because another pair of hands soon joined in. Sliding up your thighs, Yunho kissed his way to your hips, sliding up the chaise section to your legs. 

“What’s going on over here, hm?” he asked, dotting kisses on your thighs. “Is this movie too boring for you?”

“It sucks,” said Mingi, capturing your lips for a kiss. You moaned into his mouth, unable to stop yourself. “I found something more interesting to do instead.” 

Yunho’s long arms reached up far enough to the curves of your breasts. He took up the one Mingi abandoned, and carefully circled his thumb around your hard nipple. You surrendered completely once Yunho’s fingers hooked the waistband of your shorts. 

“Let’s get these off,” he said, kissing down your stomach as Wooyoung switched sides and suckled your other breast. You felt more exposed once Yunho pulled off your shorts to reveal the truth. “Oh god, no panties,” he breathed, “I knew it. I could tell when I saw you in the kitchen.”

“Me too,” said Wooyoung, who joined him in kissing down your body. “I told her she should walk around bottomless from now on. That way,” he went back to rubbing your sex and you squirmed at the new feeling, “I can see this whenever I want.” 

“Fuck, if you did that,” Yunho moaned, sitting on the couch and spreading your legs, “You’d be sitting on my face nearly all day.” 

“I’d love it,” you breathed in between Mingi’s kisses, “I love your tongues so much.”

“Oh, do you?” Wooyoung said, mischief in his voice as he knelt closer to your hips. He sat up fully to hover over your pussy. Having him and Yunho this close made your clit throb. “No wonder you flaunted it in the kitchen. It is where we eat after all…”

“I’m pretty hungry right now…” said Yunho, laying between your legs on the couch and swiping his tongue over your slit. 

Mingi took over your nipples while Wooyoung and Yunho rested over your lower half. Being pinned down by Wooyoung’s arm, you couldn’t move away from the light brushes against your lips. One tongue already made you a whining mess; two tongues had your eyes rolling back. The tips of their tongues prodded between your folds carefully, sliding and licking them open until they found your clitoris. Yunho’s tongue licked over the underside while Wooyoung took over the top. Both of their tongues came together in the middle, creating this encompassing sensation that had you breaking away from Mingi to moan out loud. You didn’t care if the others heard you. You wanted them to hear you. You wanted all of them, at once, together. Hongjoong happened to be looking on longer as the three men groped and licked you. Your cheeks heated up from the sudden realization from his staring, and you looked away. It was when Wooyoung took your clit in his mouth, and moaned against it that you let go. Yunho, liking this reaction, did the same when his turn came. Both men began alternating: Yunho at your entrance and Wooyoung on your clit. You thought you might lose your mind. 

You then reached down Mingi’s body to the boner pulsing against your side just to hear his deep, low groan in your ear. You rubbed along the tent forming in his shorts until you pushed it aside to let his cock out. Your mouth watered, feeling the thick muscle pulsate against your pelvis and picturing it elsewhere. You loved hearing the members moan when you had sex with them. You loved Wooyoung’s soft sighs and Yunho's throaty groans. Mingi was no exception. He moaned into your neck, groping your breasts still and rocking into your hand. You gripped it gently to wipe your fingers over the wrinkled underside, the sensitive part that made him harder. You loved pleasuring them as much as they loved pleasuring you. 

“I’d gladly walk around naked,” you said to them, arching your back as Wooyoung and Yunho’s tongues flicked your sex, “If you guys do too. Living in a dorm with so many yummy cocks to choose from is a dream.” 

They all chuckled as they pleased you. Then, another voice called out when a lamp turned on. “Hey, turn her around so the rest of us can watch too.” 

It was Jongho, and his comment made all of you laugh. Yeosang, sitting beside him on the couch, flicked on the opposite lamp. A bit of shame heated your cheeks as dim lighting brought you into their view. No matter how long you’d been with them, having their attention on you still made you bashful. Mingi, Wooyoung, and Yunho let you sit up on the couch. You let Mingi pull off your sweater so you sat naked under their gaze. Their jaws dropped seeing you bare in front of them in the living room, a public place in your dorm. They still reacted this way whenever they saw you naked. Whether in the bedroom or somewhere else, every time was their first time. Nothing made you feel more desirable than having all of them entranced by your body. 

“Lean back, baby,” Mingi said, tugging down his shorts and kneeling beside you. 

You took his tip in your mouth at once, giving a soft moan when the hot tip touched your tongue. Yunho and Wooyoung knelt in front of you, each man holding one of your legs and continued eating you out together. Inch by inch, you drew Mingi further in; you held him by the base, cupping his balls in your hand at the same time so he had that extra stimulation. You looked up to see Mingi had stripped further down, his naked torso now visible and making him a jaw-dropping sight. Full lips parted in every moan, you saw the need for release etched into his features, but you refused to give him that. Not right away. The slew of moans the two men beneath you caused became muffled by Mingi’s dick; an act you’re certain drives him wild. Mingi liked pleasuring you while you pleasured him for this reason.

Slurping up the juices your spit and his precum made, you let your tongue linger under for a few moments before suckling the throbbing muscle. You could feel it pulse on your tongue and against your cheeks; more precum leaked inside and you swallowed greedily. All this made Mingi grab a hold of your hair and force you to the base. Letting him guide you, your hand moves in tandem with your mouth. The bundle of sensations coursing through your body caused trembling and sensitivity as Wooyoung and Yunho brought you closer to climax. You knew you'd explode from their tongues teasing your sex from top to bottom repeatedly. Their light flicking tightened the knots tightening between your legs. 

"So soon, baby?" Yunho said, pecking along your inner thigh. "We've barely started."

"I can't help it," you whimpered. "It feels so good-Ah, Wooyoungie!" 

Wooyoung responded with a growl he made sure you'd feel. His tongue slashed across your clit from side to side and you nearly collapsed from the sensation. Mingi pushed himself back into your mouth, grunting and groaning along with you. The climax burning in your lower stomach slowly built until you were shaking. You'd always been able to hold it back whenever you took on multiple partners, but the possibility of fulfilling your greatest fantasy charged it forward. You didn't know what the end result would be, and you couldn't wait for it. 

"No, no, no," Wooyoung said, pulling away right as your orgasm touched the edge. "You hold onto that for now."

"You haven't been fucked yet," Yunho added. "You don't want to cum without anything inside you, do you?" 

"But…but I don't know if I can," you pouted at him. "It tingles a lot."

They awed at this, and it was Mingi who spoke. "Just relax and enjoy this," Mingi sighed, pressing his tip to your mouth again.  

“I’ll take your mind off it.”

San. You knew what he meant before he even approached. He positioned himself opposite Mingi; he stood on the couch and leaned on his side. Your mouth dropped open when he pulled his pants to his thighs. Having San exposed like this made you gravitate to him. Your body continued gradually coming down from the edging, so neither Wooyoung or Yunho touched you right away. They stuck to being spectators below, watching you along with everyone else. 

Stroking Mingi’s wet cock, you opened your mouth for San. He groaned at the first touch of your tongue to his underside. San liked it when you took your time; he didn’t like hasty, half-assed sex. You licked him from base to tip without using your hand, so his shaft stayed on your face every lick. San groaned as he watched you trace the veins along his stiffness and suck on the tip each time. Concentrating on both Mingi and San made it easier to avoid stirring up your orgasm again. You turned to Mingi, and opened your mouth for him. He grabbed his base to smack the head on your tongue, sliding it along the length of your tongue before pushing into your mouth. 

“Such a dirty girl,” San moaned, forcing your head back so both cocks settled over your mouth, “You can never have enough dick, can you?” When you shook your head, the room chuckled. “I think you’re going to get more than your fill of dick tonight, sweetie.” 

“Especially when you’re so eager for more…”

Mingi held you by the hair as they took turns in your mouth. All around you, you could hear the other members talking and felt their eyes drinking you in. You didn’t feel an ounce of shame. They loved you, and you loved them. You had no reason to be ashamed of this kind of behavior. You liked having them watch. Before any of them ever touched you, you used to like letting them sneak peeks at you in the shower or in your bedroom, getting dressed. The largest turn on was when one member walked in on you with another, and he stayed to watch. They know you like being watched, and did it now just for you. When San plunged himself down into your throat, you received nothing but encouragement and praise. 

“Hold it, hold it,” you heard Seonghwa’s deep voice instruct from nearby. “See how long you can keep that dick in your throat, baby.” Your throat tightened reflexively around the intrusive length, and you struggled for air for a few seconds. “Remember what I taught you,” he said, sounding closer now, “Relax and breathe through your nose.” 

You tried. You really did, but you finally pulled away from San, coughing and gasping for air. You looked to see Seonghwa sitting where Wooyoung had been on your left, hand gently rubbing your inner thigh. Shirtless in lounge pants, Seonghwa was a vision of beauty. Black hair in an undercut, sharp features bare and perfect, he resembled a painting in a high end museum. How could you not love a face like his?

“I’m sorry,” you coughed, chest heaving up and down. “I tried.”

“That’s okay, angel,” he said, “Try it with Mingi’s now.” 

Mingi guided you fully onto his dick, your lips brushing the hilt while his cock touched your throat. He isn’t as long or as large as San, so you managed it with ease. Seonghwa looked on intently. He liked seeing you give the other members blowjobs before getting one himself; he once said he liked having them warm you up for him. Mingi and San both groaned each time you took one of them in your throat. San moved in and out of it easily, enjoying the gagging sounds you made each time he did it; Mingi liked keeping you firmly down while Wooyoung and Yunho made you moan through your throat. The pleasure heightened when a tongue swiped over your soaked, stimulated pussy. 

“Mm, tastes so good,” Seonghwa growled, making sure you felt it before he suckled the sensitive nub. “I could eat this all day, and never get bored.” He gave it a soft kiss, “Especially if she’s throating my cock while I do it.” 

“Same” Wooyoung agreed, using his turn to make rapid swirling motions there. This instantly stoked the fires inside you again. Yet, every time you grew close, they pulled away. It became total torture that you never wanted to stop. “I could do this all day. I don’t care if my jaw locks up. Hearing her cum is worth it every time.”

The members laughed at his bold statement, but it only made you hornier. You went back to sucking Mingi’s dripping cock when something slim and long finally slid inside you. You looked to see Yunho’s mouth agape as he slowly pumped two fingers into your pussy. He shifted to the side somewhat so the rest of the room could see his fingers stretching your hole while the other two licked your clit. San had been fucking your mouth when Seonghwa and Wooyoung spread your lips further to greedily lap at the pearl hiding in the folds. The cries of pleasure were muffled by the thick cock filling your mouth, but they heard them nevertheless. 

“I think she’s going to cum,” Yunho said smugly, maintaining the same pace throughout. “I can feel that pussy getting tighter and tighter.” He pulled them out to rub your juices over your clit and back down, your clit getting a break from tongues to enjoy fingers instead. Your mumbled whimper amused him, and he repeated the torturous motion again. 

“I don’t know if I want her to cum yet,” Seonghwa pouted, kissing up your body to your nipple which he suckled softly. “I just got here. Let me see…” His hand replaced Yunho’s inside you, also going slow and steady. You could feel his fingers prod your g-spot briefly, making you see stars behind your eyelids. Each stroke had you whining, and sucking two different cocks added to this pleasure. “She is close,” he agreed with Yunho. “Look at her, she’s shaking,” you heard the taunt in his voice, and you switched over to Mingi once more. Your eyes met his and his jaw dropped, “I bet you want to cum really bad, don’t you?” 

“Yes. Yes, please,” you gasped, taking a moment to breathe and stroking both San and Mingi. 

“Let me…” Wooyoung stopped using his mouth and instead fingered you right as Seonghwa withdrew. “Ooh,” he cooed, “It’s squeezing my fingers every time I go in. Especially when I go in deep like this.” 

He demonstrated by sinking his fingers into the last knuckle, pressing on your g-spot and making you cry out. He did this repeatedly a few times, and brought you so close you nearly went over. He pulled them out to rub over your clit once more. He started rubbing your clit up and down while Yunho’s fingers filled your pussy again. Seonghwa took occasional flicks and licked up the mess your juices made. It reminded you of the time San and Wooyoung tied you to your bed, where they teased and edged you the way you liked. You went back to sucking Mingi’s cock, the blond haired man groaning as you hollowed your cheeks for him. Seeing your shaking thighs and hearing your moans, the other members sensed your orgasm from afar. 

“Come on, now. You know you want to cum.”

“You don’t have to hold back anymore, baby. We want to hear you cum.”

From across the room, your eyes locked with Hongjoong’s. He sat in the arm chair at the end of the couch, lounging casually and watching you like he’s watching his favorite tv program. The sight of him passively observing you somehow made you more sensitive. 

You’d never tell a single soul just how much you enjoyed Hongjoong’s cock. You'd never reveal how his dick was the one you craved during lonely nights; how you loved the feel, the taste, and the size of him. He’d been your first, and he’d always carry that title with him. Yunho sunk his fingers deeper inside, moving them faster and angling them a bit higher; Wooyoung worked on your clit while Seonghwa reached up to suck your nipples. Hongjoong caught your gaze, and groped the bulge growing in his pants. 

“Cum,” he mouthed out, biting his lower lip and eyeing you closely.  

As if activated by his voice alone, you climaxed. Body stiffening on the couch, muscles contracting, your eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm blew through you. You suddenly became so hyper aware of the men stimulating you; the men watching you in the room and eagerly awaiting their turn with you. Yunho kept the same pace during your orgasm, the motion of his fingers making your eyes roll back. It was absolute bliss. 

Coming down from your orgasm, you saw Jongho and Yeosang preparing a space in the center of the living room. Jongho placed down blankets from around the couches, while Yeosang put pillows where you’d be more comfortable. Seonghwa guided you from the couch to a space on the floor, where he let you kneel down on a long pillow cushioning your knees. Taking up your hair again, this time he eased his cock into your mouth. Your throat already accustomed to it from Mingi and San, you took his cock with nearly no difficulty. The entry burned your throat every so often, and brought tears to your eyes. They brimmed your eyelashes, and trickled down the sides to your cheeks. Seonghwa only wiped them away with his thumb. 

"Take it easy," he said gently. "You don't have to be so hasty with me."

Seonghwa never bragged about it, but they considered his dick ‘above average’. Not huge or disturbingly big, it still took a bit of effort where penetration was concerned. When he went in, you definitely felt him for sure. You gingerly sucked and licked him, not taking him in your throat until you felt ready to do so. 

“Look at him,” Seonghwa told you, and you knew who he meant. “Look over at him while you suck me off.” You glanced over at Hongjoong, who’d started stroking himself under his pants. You wanted so badly to walk over and pleasure him yourself. But, you knew he wouldn’t want that. “You know how much he likes watching you be used like a little fuck doll. Give him something to watch.”

Seonghwa let out a low groan as you started sliding your mouth up and down on him. You felt the heat of Hongjoong’s eyes on your body; you felt them peeling away at you until he reached your core, where your dirtiest fantasies lay hidden. Opening your mouth, you stroked Seonghwa over your tongue so Hongjoong saw thin droplets of precum fall into your mouth. You enjoyed the salty taste, licking up from base to tip and spitting some onto it before sucking on it again. The arousal flared when Yunho took up the space next to you and grabbed your hand to wrap around his cock. After choking yourself on Seonghwa’s dick the way Hongjoong liked, you did the same to Yunho, who let out hoarse groans as you did it. Yunho never pressured or forced you to pick up speed; he liked letting it naturally play out between you both. Jerking Seonghwa at the same speed, strings of profanities and moans came while you took turns on each one. Soon, more drool leaked from the sides of your mouth, which you usually wiped away, but Hongjoong was watching. He liked you messy. 

San knelt behind you. You knew it was him by the warm hands starting to roam your sides. He reached around to your pussy where he started stroking you lightly. Your clitoris still felt sensitive from your first orgasm, yet you craved more. One hand spreading your lips apart, the other moistened your entrance with the cum left inside you. You gasped around Yunho’s length when you felt something hard pressed to your entrance. San swirled his tip around your sex a few times, moaning softly before sinking it an inch or two inside. You let go of Seonghwa and Yunho to lean forward onto another pillow, arching your back to slide more of him inside. A whole new wave of euphoria arrived the moment he filled you completely. You lifted your head to realize Hongjoong was not that far from you, possibly a few feet. His eyes went from your face to where your body met San’s, and he stopped stroking himself. 

“How’s that, baby?” San asked, starting off with a steady speed. “Hm?”

“So…So good,” you whimpered, “Go faster. Please.”

He didn’t disappoint. San drove his hips into you faster, and you felt his cock reach further inside. Right as he got into a proper rhythm, another member took the space in front of you. Jongho, the youngest of them all, smirked down at you. He held his dick out in front of you, slowly rubbing it as he’d done this entire time. 

“Now, it’s my turn,” he said, scooting closer to you and lifting your head upright. “I’ve been dying to fuck your mouth all night.” 

“Pl-please,” you said through gritted teeth as San held onto your hips and pulled you onto him. 

“Then open up.” 

He eased himself into your anticipating mouth. Jongho took no effort at all, and he always kept gentleness laced into the roughness. He grabbed the back of your head and pushed himself as far as he could, yet did not do so roughly. Your constant stream of whimpers and whines became stifled by the cock buried hilt deep in your mouth. Jongho’s precum added a new flavor to the mixture already there, and also left your cheeks and chin a mess. You could feel the other members around you, awaiting their turn while Hongjoong looked onwards. Even if you couldn’t see him, you knew he watched. Jongho occasionally released you so everyone heard your guttural, hoarse moans from San’s thrusting hips. 

“You look so pretty like this, Noona,” Jongho huffed, using that affectionate formality he knew sparked something inside you. “All dirty and horny while we use your…your holes,” he said, pushing himself back into your mouth. “I could do this all day.” 

“Me too…” 

Yeosang knelt beside Jongho, who withdrew his member to let Yeosang go next. Much like Jongho, you had no trouble sucking him deeply and firmly. Suddenly, you became surrounded. Two hands grabbed your breasts and pinched your nipples, while a third hand languidly stroked your clit. From the sounds around you, Seonghwa and Yunho played with your nipples and Wooyoung once again touched you further down. A sharp smack on your ass came from Mingi, who took hold off both cheeks and spread them as San charged inside you. In a few long strokes, San stopped completely and something dripped onto your ass hole. 

“Her ass is so nice,” Wooyoung moaned, no doubt looking on as Mingi rolled his thumb around your ass. “That’s another one I could eat all day if she let me…” 

Wooyoung’s oral fixation had no bounds, and you loved it. “Touch it,” you moaned, taking Yeosang out to say it, “Please. I love it when you play with my ass.”

They all laughed softly, and Mingi smacked your ass again. “Is that so?” Wooyoung’s hand left your clit for your ass, smoothing over one cheek before giving it a sharp slap. “If that’s true, then maybe I should eat your ass more often.”

“I bet she’d cum just from that alone,” Mingi said, bending to lick the hole which caused you to cry with Jongho in your mouth. “I’d love to try one day.” 

“She has,” Wooyoung told him. He joined in the teasing, spitting and swiping over it with Mingi. “She can be a real filthy slut when she wants to be.”

“The filthiest.” Hongjoong’s high voice reached you over the commotion, and you pushed yourself into San’s hips faster and harder. “She’s nothing but a dirty pervert who craves our dicks all day long.”

“Hyung!” Yeosang huffed with a laugh, even turning over to look at him. 

Jongho and him moved to look at Hongjoong, but he only had eyes for you.  That familiar glint of depraved lust winked at you, and you so badly wanted him to join. But, you knew he wouldn’t right away. Hongjoong managed his arousal way too well for your liking. The others could become almost feral when in the moment, but not Hongjoong. His cock stood up straight, laying on his stomach and twitching at the lightest ministrations but he did not give into that primal instinct inside him. Having him watching you this way brought you closer to the edge on San’s member, making you grunt in every push. 

“Isn’t that right, YN?” he asked, running his fingers up and down the underside of his engorged hardon. A trickle of precum wet his fingers, and you licked your lips. He laughed, “Answer me.”

“Yes!” you squeaked as a finger started rolling around the rim of your ass. Wooyoung spat between your cheeks again, and he spread it around. “Oh fuck, yes! Yes, yes, yes! I am a filthy slut! I am!”

Your answer satisfied him, and he continued touching himself. “Show me then,” he said, “Show me what a slut you can really be.”

You continued working on both Yeosang and Jongo, switching between them every so often to pleasure them both while Wooyoung’s fingers pushed right into the brim of your ass. Seonghwa then lifted you up as far as San’s dick allowed and spoke into your ear. 

“I want you to ride me,” he said, licking the edge of your ear to kiss your neck, “While your real owner watches you.” He rapidly began rubbing your sensitive clit, making you clench your thighs and squirm. “Because that’s what he is. We might date and fuck you, but you’re his. All his. I want him to see how good I fuck you when he’s not here to do it.”

San, having overheard the conversation being so close, added, “He loves watching us fuck you this way. He’s even asked me to fuck you in front of him before, you know.” He leaned close to your ear, “Be a good girl and ride Seonghwa for your owner.” 

Seonghwa laid down beside you and the others released you. Yet, right as he did this, a small blue packet landed on his chest. You all looked up to see Hongjoong holding a box of condoms. Beside it, you spotted a bottle of lubricant and a gray shoe box. You gulped at the sight of the box. You knew what was inside, and it excited you. But knowing them, they won't pull those out right away. 

"We have these for a reason," he said, putting the condoms on the couch where they could easily grab it. "Please use them."

Seonghwa smirked at him, and tore open the condom wrapper. Once he slid it over his cock, you straddled him. On sore knees, you sunk yourself onto him right away. Leaning forward, you kept your back arched as more hands rubbed over your body. Yeosang and Jongho took turns stimulating your clit as you started gradually rocking on Seonghwa’s dick, causing you to fall deeper into a whirl of pleasure. This new angle had his cock pressing into your g-spot again, and their hands only pushed it along. Wooyoung left your ass for your mouth, which you opened gladly to let him in. Seonghwa, with a perfect view of Wooyoung abusing your throat, moaned in utter satisfaction and pushed his hips into yours. It was the wet tongue and fingers on your ass that excited you immensely. San, most likely lying fully on his stomach in between Seonghwa’s legs, had pulled your buttocks apart to lap at your hole. Your muscles tensed once more as Seonghwa angled his body to bury deep inside you; the arms holding you up started trembling and you knew you’d give out right away. 

“Lay down, baby,” Wooyoung said, kneeling down over Seonghwa’s head and bringing you at level with him, “That’s it…just relax and-Ah, fuck, hyung!”

“You shouldn’t have brought them so close to me,” Seonghwa chortled, and you saw his tongue flick over Wooyoung’s balls. He hummed around one and the vibration made Wooyoung wriggle over him. “Such a sensitive boy; just like our sweet YN.”

And so you both went to work on Wooyoung. The slim, dark-haired man whimpered and moaned at the two mouths pleasuring him. Your second climax finally arrived when Mingi’s fingers slipped into your ass without warning. The mixture of all the different sensations had you tearing up and shaking uncontrollably. Wooyoung’s cock sunk deep into your throat, just so he could feel you moaning around him. 

“That’s it…Just like that,” Seonghwa moaned from underneath, “Cum all over my cock. I love feeling your pussy get tighter around..me…” 

“Be nice and loud for Joong-hyung,” Mingi groaned in your ear, keeping his fingering careful and slow. “He loves hearing you cum like that. Yeah, just like that.” 

He cooed at you when your orgasm strengthened and you grew louder. You finally stopped, shaking and quivering, as it came down. Every muscle in your body felt weak, but the burning desire to keep going overpowered the physical tiredness. It was everything you pictured it to be. All the nasty, self-disrespecting actions you always pictured yourself doing even despite your self-respect were coming true. The best part of it was Hongjoong’s approval of the treatment. 

“Come here, angel.” Mingi grabbed a condom from the box next, and laid down next to Seonghwa. “Turn around for me,” he said and you did as told. 

You expected him to slide himself into your pussy, but instead, he pushed his tip to your lubed ass hole. When you gasped, he paused, “I need you to relax, okay? Take a deep breath for me.” When you nodded and tried calming down, he said, “Just let go and enjoy yourself.” He rubbed his hands up and down your back soothingly, “I’m going to fuck you in your ass now. You can go at any pace you want; don’t feel you have to go too fast or too hard. Fuck…yes, like that. Take it nice and easy, angel.”

He grunted when you gingerly sank halfway down on him. “Mingi-ah,” Hongjoong said, “Here.”

He passed Mingi the lubricant from the couch. Cold and sticky, Mingi poured a bit onto his length and then on you. While it made your ride easier, nothing compared to the stretch and full feeling it created. Anal always left a lasting impression, especially since it made you feel particularly stuck on him. Yeosang knelt down in front of you, giving soft kisses to your shoulder and collarbone. 

“You’re doing such a great job, darling,” he praised, kissing the base of your neck. “I know you’re getting tired, but you only need to go a little longer, okay?” He massaged your bottom tenderly, pecking your lips and kissing you softly. You watched him take up the lube and squirt some onto his fingers. “Want me to finger you?” he asked, tracing cold digits across your heat, “While Mingi fills your ass? I know you love having more than one.”

“Yes,” you whined, sinking fully onto Mingi before slowly coming back up. “Please.”

Yeosang sunk two fingers into you, and you moaned loudly. He let you grind and brush into his palm each time you went down; he sometimes picked up the pace if he thought you’d grown too quiet. Out of habit, you grabbed his boner to stroke slowly. The addition of lube he poured on the tip had Yeosang softly panting in your ear. You’d been lost in the feeling of the two men pleasuring you that you didn’t notice Yunho coming up beside you with something small and pink in his hand. 

“I think I know exactly what our pretty girl needs,” he said, voice full of mischief. “Just keep riding Mingi while we do the work for you.”

You looked at him to see a body wand in his hand. Your pussy instinctively clenched Yeosang’s fingers, and he pushed them further inside to wriggle the tips close to your g-spot. The gentle vibrating coming from the wand made you nearly dizzy from stimulation, creating squeals and high pitched cries whenever it rolled directly onto you. Yeosang removed his fingers so Yunho could place the head of the toy right over your entrance. You started bouncing on Mingi faster, the vibrations causing sharp tickling sensations that matched the feeling from behind. Yunho did not move away; he followed your hips wherever they went, even wiggling the wand from side to side. The members watched in awe as Mingi held you in place and started pushing into you. 

“Yun…Ho…” you cried, tears welling up in your eyes from the overstimulation. “Yunho, it tingles!” 

“I know, baby,” he smiled, “Hongjoong-hyung gave it to me for us to play with. Tell him how happy you are that he got it for you. Go on.”

“I’m ss-s-s-so ha-happy! Ah-” 

Yeosang put his fingers back inside when you leaned back and Yunho tapped your clit with the wand. Your third climax hit you harder than the first two. Your body turned stiff, your head cocked to one side and eyes squeezed shut tightly. Yeosang waited until you’d fully stopped to slide his fingers between your parted lips. Sucking them eagerly, you let out several shaky breaths and did your best to stay up straight. 

“You okay?” Yunho asked, tucking hair behind your ear. “Do you want to take a break?” When you shook your head, he said, “You don’t have to take all of us right now if you can’t. We won’t be upset. You’ve done so much already, baby.” 

You turned your head to look at him, starting to ride Mingi again, “I want to keep going. I love it too much to stop now.” 

He smiled and kissed you, “If you ever want to stop or have a break, you know the word to use, right?”

You nodded. 

“What is it?” Yeosang asked, kissing down your chest. 

“Buttercup…”

“That’s right. Good girl. Lay down on the couch for us,” Yeosang said, “Get comfortable.”

Yunho helped you over to the couch, where you rested against Yeosang in front of a large pillow and sunk into his comforting arms. Yunho lifted your ankles to his shoulders, and rolled on a condom before handing one to Yeosang. He waited until you settled down to sink inside you. Yeosang then pushed his own cock into your ass, since now Mingi stretched it enough that the pain did not burn so hotly. Both men worked you gently, watching you melt between them as more pleasure pulsed through you. Seonghwa came back up to the side of the couch, body wand in hand, and rolled the vibrating head over your nipple. The tickling feeling surged down in your loins where Yunho and Yeosang slowly pushed in and out of you. Jongho came beside the lower half where his fingers lightly ran over the lips of your pussy, making you squirm and tremble. Your walls clutched Yunho tightly, and this made him thrust deeper and faster. 

“Are you going to come already?” Yunho panted, holding onto the backs of your knees as he moved. “Is your pussy that sensitive?” 

“Ye-yes,” you nodded, huffing and puffing from exhaustion as the men used you. “It feels so…good…” you kept your eyes closed as they all worked on you. “Don’t stop no-now…I’ve wanted this for such a long-long time.”

“Is that so?” Yeosang asked, grabbing your breasts and holding them for Seonghwa’s toy to tease them more accurately. “Maybe Hongjoong is right. You are a dirty slut. Is this what you were thinking about when I caught you using your toys in the bathtub? You remember that, don’t you?”

You did. Vividly. You recalled Yeosang walking in by accident, seeing you sitting on the edge of the tub and holding a vibrator to your cunt. He’d joined you right away, fondling and kissing you while sliding the toy in and out. “Yes,” you moaned, “But I still liked it when it was just you.”

“So sweet,” Yeosang awed, thrusting up in time with Yunho now so they filled you together. “Go ahead and cum again for us. You can do it, baby. We know you can.”

A fourth orgasm erupted in a scream. Yunho and Yeosang kept the same pace, but Seonghwa and Jongho focused their efforts on your clit. Seonghwa pushed the toy down while Jongho held the lips apart. Sharp pain and pleasure mingled inside and you quaked in their embrace. They hardly gave you time to relax as Yunho and Yeosang withdrew before Jongho got his hands on you. Laying you on your side on the floor, he lifted one thigh above the other and slipped himself inside you immediately. It was then you noticed the box. A small gray shoebox with a designer label on the side. Hongjoong didn’t only bring the body wand. He brought the whole box. Jongho started pounding you right away, moaning your name and squeezing your tits while you stared at the box at Hongjoong’s feet. He gave you his devilish smirk and nodded to the toy box. 

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Jongho asked, bending over to your ear. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. You feel so good and I’m so fucking turned on by you.”

“Don’t stop,” you muttered, pushing into him and keeping his hands on your chest. The remains of your last orgasm, and the pure adrenaline coursing in your body kept you going at this point. “I want you to keep going. Please?”

Jongho, always needing reassurance you wanted him, started rocking himself deeply inside you. “I’ve always wanted to do this with you,” he admitted to you, kissing up your neck, “It’s why I like fucking you in my room when Yeosang and Wooyoung are there. I like watching you take more than one cock at a time.”

“Jongho,” you giggled, pushing back into him, “You naughty boy.”

“You make me naughty,” he smirked, pushing deep inside and staying there. “But,” he pinched your nipple gently, “There’s someone here who likes watching you more than me.” He kissed your cheek, and then said loudly, “Hm, I wonder what I should do with our girl next? Hongjoong-hyung?” 

“Spread her legs open,” Hongjoong suggested, leaning back in his chair and looking on. “So we can see what her pussy looks like being abused by your dick.” 

Jongho laughed, then lifted your leg to rest on his shoulder. Fully spread apart, Hongjoong was given a clear view of your soaked, sore pussy being stretched once more. Mingi pulled the gray box towards him, and rifled around before finding the bullet vibrator. A baby blue toy the size of an egg was then pressed to you and Jongho met from behind you. Both of you felt the light vibrations that made Jongho more desperate for release. While you cried and pleaded, Wooyoung came to level with your head and pushed himself into your open mouth. You did your best to suck him, but Jongho’s dick pushing to your core once more with Mingi’s toy buzzing around your sex, it became difficult. 

“She can’t even suck my dick properly,” Wooyoung laughed, not upset or disappointed but amused. “Such a dumb little doll. Let me help you, baby.” 

He didn’t wait for you to answer as he started sliding himself in and out of your mouth. Diving deep into your throat, you sputtered as a moan tried escaping you but was blocked off. “She’s loving this,” Mingi smirked, “I think we should do this more often just for her. I know she’d love that.” 

“We don’t want to work her too hard though,” said Jongho, who pecked kisses along your leg and ankle. “It might hurt her a lot.” 

“Nah, it’s healthy for cock hungry sluts to be gangbanged once in a while,” said Hongjoong. “They need to be fucked into oblivion so they remember what they’re good for.” He held back a moan as he said, “She needs to remember she’s just our little cum dump from time to time.” 

Some members stifled laughter at his bold, cruel words but you only whined. Yes. Yes, that’s what you were: a toy for the members to release their frustration on. Companions do so much more for idols and idol groups, but sex is usually involved. You didn’t mind. You’d known this from the beginning; you lucked out having loving partners, since not all Idol Companions have such good experiences. You showed that side of you to them right now by submitting to their whims and pleasures. 

Mingi put the toy right underneath the nub, and with a few more pumps from Jongho, you clamed up again. Another orgasm came so quick and hard, not even Wooyoung’s member stifled it this time. All the members cheered you on, encouraging you to cum one more time or spread yourself further to let Jongho go deeper. Hazy and dizzy, you collapsed onto the floor. You might as well be a pool of jelly. Your holes ached, your jaw burned, and you thought you’d pass out any moment. But, you had more to do. You hadn’t gotten the thing you wanted the most. The boys put you back on the couch, letting you sink back into comfort as Wooyoung grabbed an anal plug Mingi handed to him. Both men prepared you for the small pink plug before sliding it inside. Being on your back, the toy would be pushed in and out of you as Wooyoung sucked up the juices smeared on your thighs and leaked from your entrance. His warm tongue soothed but also pinched your clit whenever he touched on it. 

“Wooyoung just fuck her already,” said San, joining in by flicking your clit with his tongue. “I’ll take care of this right here.” 

“But I like eating her when she’s been fucked a few times,” he replied, licking up your thighs. “She’s so sensitive and responsive afterwards. I love hearing her mewling and whimpering like this.” He quickly rolled his tongue around your clit so you made those exact noises. San hurriedly joined in and both men eagerly ate you out. “Do you like that, YN?” asked Wooyoung, sucking on your clit and forcing the plug deep in your ass. “Hm, do you?”

You let out a stream of incoherent sentences, and they laughed. “Silly baby,” San awed, pouting and kissing your clit, “So fucked out she can’t even form a sentence.” 

“Been fucked stupid,” Wooyoung smirked, “Exactly how I want her when I put my dick in her.” 

Tears spilled from your eyes as both men took advantage of your weakened state. Wooyoung sat up right, condom already rolled on, and sunk himself into your aching, throbbing, burning hole. You could hardly see straight, the room becoming blurry in your glazed tears, and your body became numb to everything except the pleasure Wooyoung and San provided. It didn’t take very long for Wooyoung’s soft panting to turn into high moans, eyes full of need and desire as your pussy pulled him into you. 

“Please cum, Wooyoungie,” you mumbled, reaching out to his chest and torso so he felt your hands on him. “I want you to cum all over me.” 

“Say that again,” he moaned hurriedly, picking up speed, “Say that again.” 

“I want you to cum all over me. Please, Wooyoung. Please?” 

“Yes, yes, baby. I…I…”

He withdrew right away, tearing the condom off, and you looked down to see his glistening cock twitching as he stroked it. Thick droplets of white fell onto your lower stomach before shooting up to your chest, where the musky scent and sticky heat started to cover you. You admired Wooyoung’s lithe, slim body; his tanned skin beaded with sweat and black strands sticking to his temples and forehead. His lean muscles constricted, and his soft lips parted in every groan. He finally stopped with a few more pumps before San took his place. Lifting your legs up, he slipped on his own condom,  and started fucking you right away. 

“You just lay there, baby,” he said, “Be a good toy and let me use your pussy.”

“Yes, Sannie. Use my pussy to cum, please,” you panted. 

“Do you want me to cum on you too or somewhere else?” he asked, bottoming up into you carefully. 

“On me. Please. All over me. I want it all over.” 

“Of course you do…” Hongjoong walked up beside you, crouching down to where your head laid and kissed your temple. “Any self-respecting slut loves being cummed on,” he leaned into your ear and traced light circles over your nipples. A faint, fresh scent came off his clothes and skin; he’d showered before the movie and it still clung to him. It added another layer of comfort and relaxation. “And being cummed in too,” he groaned in your ear before kissing it, “Just wait until it’s only you and me. I’m going to breed that pussy the way it’s meant to be. I’m going to breed you nice and hard and deep,” he gave your nipple a pinch, “And you’re going to take every drop and keep it in you.”

“Hongjoong, but…”

“You know I’ll take care of you,” he assured you. “I only want to see how pretty you look with my cum dripping from your holes. You’re already so beautiful covered in cum.” 

“She always looks so-s-so good,” San huffed. 

Like Wooyoung, he pulled out right when he orgasmed. San tilted his head back, jerking quickly so thin streamers fell over your stomach and breasts. Hongjoong and you looked on together, watching San pump himself until he’d been completely spent. Mingi, the one who started this whole thing, went afterwards. He didn’t waste time with seductive words or praises. He pushed right into you, and didn’t stop until he was a sweaty, panting mess jerking over you. His streams mainly landed on your breasts, clearly where he’d hoped to aim. Hongjoong, wiping up a clear strip of cum, put it to your lips to taste it. 

“I wonder who will shoot into this slutty mouth,” Hongjoong said out loud, letting you suck more from his fingers. “They know how much you like to swallow their loads after they’ve fucked you.”

“Oh, I am,” Yeosang took his place beside you and pushed hair from your face. Hongjoong sat on the couch arm rest, still admiring your filthy, naked body like a work of art. “I want my sweet girl to drink every little drop I give her. Will you do that for me?” 

“Yes,” you said weakly. 

You stuck out your tongue as Yeosang rubbed his tip over it. You had no energy to properly suck or jerk him off, but you gave soft, kitten licks to the head until he started shaking in front of you. He called out in a loud cry like his orgasm imploded inside him. Streaks of cum flew into your mouth and on your cheek, but you quickly caught them by latching your mouth to the tip. Hongjoong kept your hair out of the way, and encouraged you to open up so Yeosang saw you’d swallowed all of it. 

“Good girl,” Yeosang rewarded you with a kiss, “Hongjoong better give you an extra special treat for behaving so well.”

“I will,” Hongjoong said fondly, as if doting on a child. 

Seonghwa stood a foot away, looking over your body as if he’d never seen anything as lovely before. “You know how much I love your mouth too,” he told you, already at the cusp of his orgasm, “Open it for me, baby. Just like that.” 

It didn’t take him much longer. What caught you off guard was Jongho, who’d taken Mingi’s place between your thighs. Both men came rather quickly, since they worked themselves up beforehand. Seonghwa slid himself in and out of your mouth while Jongho pounded you hard. Sucking Seonghwa off felt like eating a candy with a gooey center; it dribbled onto your tongue rather than outright shot into it. Seonghwa and Jongho both picked up their pace: Seonghwa’s cum leaked into your mouth even as his orgasm erupted through him; Jongho’s mainly trickled down over your pubic mound and the crevasses of your thighs. You swallowed the oozing cum, making sure Seonghwa saw you eagerly licking him clean before he withdrew. 

“Look at you,” Yunho smiled, taking Jongho’s place, “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen covered in a bunch of cum.”

“Isn’t she a pretty sight?”

“The prettiest.”

Yunho sunk deep into your leaking pussy, and gave into those primal urges inside. His nails dug into your hips, and his balls slammed into your ass as he used your body. The momentum caused the plug inside you to move around, and you almost came again from it. Hongjoong leaned down to your ear, and gave it a soft nibble. 

“Just one more, baby,” he said, “Then we’ll clean you up and I can breed you.”

The thought of being bred by Hongjoong excited you so much. Yunho’s cock pushed right into your center, and you started moaning. “I want you to, sir,” you whimpered into his ear. “I want you to breed me.” You’re not an idiot. You’re sleeping with several different men and you’re still young. You obviously take birth control, and they use protection to avoid pregnancies or diseases. But, the idea of Hongjoong’s bare cock pumping you full of his seed made you horny again. 

“Of course, you do,” he said. “You’re a fuck doll that loves being cummed in as much as possible. It only makes sense I empty my balls inside you the way a good owner would, right?” 

“Yes…”

“Fuck, hyung,” Yunho laughed in between moans, head back and pushing feverishly. “You’re terrible.”

“And she loves it.” 

Yunho soon removed his condom to spill his own seed like the others. It created a pool between your breasts and stomach, the thicker strands sliding down your sides and some remaining on your chest and chin. Yunho, his long, broad body hovering over you, only stopped when the last clear drop fell on your stomach. You took a glance around the room to see the others slumped on the couch; their bodies clearly worn out from giving the best thing they ever could. The only one fully alert was Hongjoong, who chuckled and kissed your forehead. Yunho pulled out of you, and so did the plug. He muttered something about cleaning up later, but you hardly heard him. 

Elation. Delight. Satisfaction. Only a few of the words to describe the feelings rolling inside you. A lopsided grin graced your face as you let your body melt into the couch where you laid. You wished to bask in the weightless after glow forever. It reminded you of the feeling after a long spa day, completely mellow. Hongjoong grabbed a wet towel he’d brought during his excursion for the toy box, and wiped most of the semen from your body. You loved his delicate, gentle touches; the care he always took when he looked after you. They all did aftercare in their own way, but it pretty much remained the same: baths or showers, snacks, water, and ice packs or lotions if needed. You heard about Companions who'd be left on the floor like garbage after rough sex. Your boys never did that to you. They loved you. Six years together proved as much to you. 

As the others started pulling on underwear or shorts, Yeosang brought you a water bottle that you gulped down in a few swallows. It’d do nothing for the taste left in your mouth, but it hydrated you. He mentioned something about tea for your throat, and kissed your forehead. Each man gave you a cheek or forehead kiss before leaving the room; Hongjoong and Seonghwa were the ones who brought you to the bathtub Seonghwa prepared for you. Hongjoong sat beside it as you slunk into the warm water. You deeply inhaled the lavender scented wafting from the bubbles, resting back on the bath pillow Yunho bought you. Hongjoong dipped a soft washcloth into the soapy water to wipe your face and neck, occasionally kissing you. Every muscle in your body turned into putty, barely having energy to remain up without Hongjoong’s help and effort on your part. Your center stung from being penetrated in so many ways, and your clit felt sore from the constant action. You’ll certainly need to go to the agency clinic now. But not yet. There was one member who hadn’t taken you, and he is the one you wanted the most. You noticed the erection still in Hongjoong’s pants, and you knew it’d be balls deep in you soon enough. 

“How do you do it?” you asked him quietly, looking up at him from your head rest. 

“‘Do’ what, baby?”

“Hold back like that,” you explained. “You’ll have a raging hardon, but don't do anything about it right away.”

“Practice,” he smiled, running the cloth between your thighs. Not in a sensual way, but to simply clean anything the water didn’t remove naturally. You winced at the soft cloth on your pussy, so Hongjoong went more carefully as he went further down. “I used to edge myself a lot when I was younger. I liked the feeling of holding back as much as I could before finally cumming. It makes that final orgasm so much better. Not to mention,” he casted a side eye glance at you, “There are certain people whose pleasure I care about more than mine. You know, people who mean so much to me and who I enjoy pleasuring first?”

“Seonghwa?” you said, a teasing smile on your face. 

“You, dummy,” he flicked some water at you and you both laughed. He peppered a few kisses on your lips, then said, “That doesn’t mean I’m not tempted to fuck you right here in this bathtub right now.”

“Then why don’t you?” you asked, hand reaching from the water to touch his knee. “I can take it. I promise.”

He smiled, taking your hand to wipe his cloth down your arm, “I know you can, but I know you’re tired too. I can wait, baby.” 

Hongjoong kissed the inner part of your wrist, then continued washing you. Hongjoong held you close as he dried you off in his lap, not caring if you wet his clothes, and brought you into your bedroom. After helping you into bed, Hongjoong undressed completely, exposing his body to you one piece at a time until he stood naked. Keeping on the lamp beside your bed, he slipped underneath the sheets with you and locked his lips with yours. You wrapped yourself around him and he slid his arms underneath your shoulders. Hongjoong let his hard shaft slide over your clit a few times, using his own precum to slicken your folds. When you flinched, he pulled away. 

“I’m sorry,” he said between kisses on your neck, “Do you still want me to do this? I can just rub it out myself if you’re too stimulated. I don’t want you to go through any pain for me.”

“I meant it when I said I wanted you to do it.” 

You reached into your bed side table where he’d left his flesh light the last time you slept together. Hongjoong rolled onto his back, pulling out a lube bottle from the opposite drawer and handing it to you. Sitting up despite your tiredness, you squirted a bit of lubricant onto his cock and coated it liberally. This motion alone had Hongjoong groaning and clutching your bed sheets. You really did love looking at his cock. The size and girth fit just right, never splitting or going too deep inside. You ran your fingers underneath the head, giggling when it twitched. Laying halfway on top of him, your thighs straddling one of his, you carefully sunk the fleshlight onto his cock. The groan of relief Hongjoong gave was enough to regenerate your arousal. His face scrunched up from pleasure, the pleasure he’d been withholding for a long time, was put permanently into your memory. When you looked down, you saw his dick filling the clear, silicone toy.  

“I love your cock so much,” you said in his ear, “I get wet thinking about the things you can do to me with it.” You slowly started grinding into his thigh, humping him in lazy motions while dragging the fleshlight up and down. “I kept thinking you’d fuck me in front of the others, so you can show them that I’m yours. Show them that my body is yours,” you kissed his jawline, “That my pussy is yours.”

He laughed. The same laugh he’d do before his verses in songs. A mischievous, mocking laugh almost, imprinted on the lustful moans he released. “I don’t have to fuck you in front of them for them to know that,” he said, pulling you close and grabbing one of your breasts. “They already know whenever they hear you cumming for me.” 

He slipped his other hand over your ass, giving a squeeze before feeling underneath it. The soft squelching sounds of the toy mixed with both your moans as you kissed. Hongjoong squeezed and fondled any part of you his hands could reach while you humped his leg gingerly. When you both became heated enough, Hongjoong pulled off the toy and rolled you onto your back. You prepared yourself for him to enter you by clutching the pillow under your head. Seeing you surrender yourself over to him, Hongjoong kissed you deeply while entering slowly inside you inch by inch. All the need and desire from the orgy came back, and soon Hongjoong’s growls and grunts filled your mouth. It didn’t take long for your lover to be quaking on top of you. A bit of thumb circles on your clit had you crying out his name again. Your hands slipped into his black hair as he kissed and bit down your neck, and across your collarbone; your hips pushed down into his simply to have more of him. You needed all of him. He sensed this from kissing you alone and bottomed up into you until you quivered in his arms. 

“That’s it,” he hissed, “Go ahead and cum just one more time. I want to hear it; go on.” 

“I don’t think I can.”

“Yes, you can, sweetie. Do it for me.”

The final orgasm came a bit fainter, but it still controlled you as it’d done the times before. You lost all sense as Hongjoong started going faster, causing your bed to hit the wall in light smacks. By the sloppy movements, and feral grunts, you knew he was close to finishing soon. 

“Cum inside me,” you said in a small, quiet voice. It was that innocent voice he loved hearing you do when he dominated you. “Please, Joongie. Cum in my pussy, please.”

“I will, baby. I…I will…fuck…”

Spreading your legs far out, Hongjoong lifted your lower half as he emptied himself inside you. In a series of long, drawn out groans, Hongjoong kept himself deep inside you as he came. You could feel his dick twitch against your walls, and coating them with his semen. The strokes he did were short and hurried so he could keep every drop deep inside you. You liked the feeling, you realized. Your hands dragged down his shoulders to his arms where you grabbed his forearms for support. Making Hongjoong cum this way, this hard, fed your pride well. He didn’t pull out right away when he finished either; he rarely ever did. You both laid on your sides, your leg over his hips to keep him inside you a bit longer. That final feeling of relaxation clouded over you instantly, and you finally gave into it. 

“Just go to sleep,” he whispered, kissing the tip of your nose and nuzzling it. “I’ll get the lights and clean you up.” He then chuckled, “That is, if Wooyoung doesn’t beat me to it.” 

“Huh?”

Hongjoong grabbed one of the squishmallows from the head board and tossed it at the door. You gasped at the sight of Wooyoung with his phone held up, who cackled and put the phone down. You laughed with him as embarrassment flushed your cheeks, and you buried your head in Hongjoong’s shoulder. 

“Out!”

“I just came to get my charger,” Wooyoung laughed in his defense, “I gave it to YN-”

“-Use someone else’s charger!” he scolded, breaking from you to launch another stuffed animal. 

Wooyoung continued laughing, wishing you goodnight and closing the door. You both heard his laughter as he walked down the hall, and you cuddled back to Hongjoong. 

“How many videos does that make?” you asked in a joke. “A dozen?”

“More like a hundred,” Hongjoong replied, bringing you into his arms and kissing your forehead. “He takes photos of you too when you’re not looking. I remember catching him filming you showering a few years ago; when you first moved into the dorm instead of living in the company residency.” He rubbed your back soothingly, and kissed you again. “I’ll get him to delete them, if it bothers you.” 

“I don’t mind,” you said, shutting your eyes and basking in his warmth. You felt a prominent stickiness between your thighs, and knew it’d bother the hell out of you. But, you felt too tired to really do anything about it. “You have videos of me too.”

“Yeah, I do,” he grinned, flashing you his cheeky smile before kissing you once more. “Let me clean you up, then I’ll shut off the lights. Seonghwa will make you some tea for your throat.”

“Okay,” you yawned, stretching your sore body and drifting to sleep. 

The last thing you remember is Hongjoong reaching for an ice pack you keep in a miniature fridge near the bed, feeling content and gratified. A part of you hoped they did it again, even if it did make you insanely exhausted and left you aching. You guessed you’d have to go to your appointment soon. ‘Bodily trauma’. Who would’ve guessed that?