#dirty paper warning

[gumii-bearr]

❝ not even a little ❞

summary: megumi fushiguro is your roommate, he's also a scary guy... a scary guy that's weak for you.

featuring... megumi fushiguro

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, roommate!megumi, college!au, angst, fluff!!, alcohol, vomiting (from being so drunk), mentions of weed, hangovers, reader cries a few times, slow burn ish, these two are pissing me off, smut, dirty talk, cunnilingus, blowjobs, handjobs, fingering, cum eating, virginity loss (?), mentions of a cheating ex (there is Hana slander im sorry), emotionally stunted megumi, swearing, megumi is so bad at feelings oh my god, ozawa x yuji mentions

word count: 13.8k

author's note: MEOW– guys i been working hard on this FUCKER!

chapter two

You’re pretty sure he hates you.

Your new roommate, that is. 

“Fushiguro, right?” You led with friendliness, hoping to win him over with your charming personality and half the share of the rent. But he was beyond intimidating, standing at the front door, eyes slanted and harsh with boredom. His hair was messy but it almost seemed intentional with how much it complimented and framed his angular face.

He was gorgeous.

Yuko had neglected to tell you just how attractive your new roommate would be when she sent you the address the day before. Though, it made sense that she wouldn’t notice since she’s dating Itadori, not his old roommate.

He looked you up and down as you stood at his front door, a nervous smile twinging at your lips as an awkward tension consumed you. Though he didn’t seem overly bothered by the awkwardness, simply humming in acknowledgement of his name before standing aside to let you into his apartment.

It was nice; very organised for a guy, you thought. He wordlessly led you to your new room, which was Yuji’s old room, and gave you the rundown of the rent and utilities while you tried to not melt at the deep smoothness of his voice.

What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

“You didn’t tell me he was hot, Ozawa,” you grumble as you tighten the group head into the coffee machine. It’s quiet in the cafe that day, just you and Yuko behind the counter trying to shake off your lack of sleep with iced coffees and fries from the stainless steel bowl sitting at the kitchen window. The line chef doesn’t care that you’re stealing the fries, too busy scrolling on his phone and attempting to blink away his hangover.

Yuko takes a sip of her coffee, her brows knit in confusion, “who?”

“Fushiguro,” you clarify, pressing buttons on the coffee machine.

Yuko was your friend from high school and she was the one that hooked you up with the apartment. All she told you was that he was Yuji’s best friend and old roommate before she and Yuji moved in together. She told you he was in his second year of college, he needed help with the rent and that he was a nice guy.

“You told me he was nice, too.”

“Fushiguro is nice,” Yuko retorts, restocking the paper cups next to the coffee machine.

You give her a look, “nice my ass.”

“You just said he was hot!” she laughs at that, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“You can be hot and mean at the same time, they’re not mutually exclusive.”

“Mm,” she hums, “sounds like your type.”

“Rude,” you mutter.

The bell above the door dings, your eyes peeking over the coffee machine to spot Yuji walking in with a wide smile, “hi baby!”

Yuko grins, “Hey, Yuji.” She leans over the counter, allowing Yuji to press a kiss against her cheek with a loud muah!

“What’s up?” Yuji asks curiously, letting his chin rest in his own palm.

“Y/N was just telling me about her first night in her new place,” Yuko replies.

“Ooh!” Yuji sings.

“She said he’s hot,” Yuko giggles.

A big smile spills across Yuji’s face and he teasingly wiggles his brows, “you got a crush?”

“No,” you say defensively. “I don’t even know him.”

“You can crush on someone and not know them,” Yuji shrugs.

“I don’t think you can.”

Yuji tuts, “ah-ah! Jennifer Lawrence, I don’t know her, but I have a crush on her.”

You look to Yuko, “you gonna let him say that?”

Yuko shrugs sheepishly, “I have a crush on her too so I think it’s okay.”

Yuji points at her, “see?”

You just playfully roll your eyes, “but seriously… What's the secret? Cus I think he already wants me to move out.”

“Fushiguro just takes time to warm up to people,” Yuji explains. “Just give it time.”

You wonder how long it’ll take for him to warm up to you. You’re a friendly person and you’re pretty bubbly but he just intimidates the hell out of you. But his apartment was way nicer than any of the other apartments near campus. And bonus points because the rent was rather cheap compared to other places you’d seen. So you can’t screw this up.

But again, you’re pretty sure he hated you.

He was always grumbling around and seemed to get annoyed when you would put the dishes away in the wrong spots (though he never outright told you this). And he seemed to get annoyed when you were in a shared space, either sitting down on the floor in front of the TV to study or at the kitchen counter with your textbooks strewn about. 

But no way in hell were you going to poke the bear and ask him if he hated you.

Because Megumi Fushiguro was a scary guy.

You think you’ve screwed yourself when Megumi makes a bee-line for you a few weeks later.

You’re sitting at your desk in your room with the door slightly open. You’re focused on the essay you’re trying to edit but it’s hard to ignore the dark and brooding cloud that is Megumi Fushiguro.

“You touch my shit?” He asks. It doesn’t sound mean or accusing but just the depth of his voice alone makes you nervous.

“Huh?” You squeak out, eyes shifting nervously.

“My clothes,” he holds out a folded shirt for emphasis, his other hand holding your door frame (and jesus christ his muscles look so good).

Fuck.

You gulp, “u-uh, yeah, I did. I needed more darks so I just… used some of yours…”

Megumi just stares at you, steely eyes narrow and harsh.

You smile sheepishly, though it’s not really a smile, more of a nervous twitch in your lips, “I’m sorry–”

“Just,” Megumi starts before he sighs, “don’t touch my shit.”

You nod quickly, “right. I’m sorry.”

It’s funny. 

You’ve only been here for a few weeks and Megumi is growing more and more frustrated by you. 

How you always manage to be there when he’s trying to use the shower or the kitchen or do his laundry. He realises the irony given you’re his fucking roommate but he can’t cope with this shit.

He finds himself staring when you walk around in tiny shorts and tight tank tops. Or when you slink down the hallway wrapped in a towel like he can’t see you. Or when you stretch your arms above your head while you’re studying, your shirt riding up and giving him the perfect view of your tummy–

Megumi stands outside the bathroom door, towel and a change of clothes in hand. 

He knew girls took a while in the shower but this? You’d been in there for around fifteen minutes, the shower running and your music playing softly from inside. Megumi and Yuji used to function fine with one bathroom between the two of them, but sharing with you, a girl, proved to be a little different.

“M’so sorry,” you squeak as you pull the door open, your hair wet and combed back, your face free of your usual makeup. 

“S’fine,” Megumi murmurs. 

You quickly duck your head and slink away and Megumi just fucking stares. His breath gets caught in his throat at the sight of your towel pulled tight around your body, giving him a perfect view of the outline of your ass. His eyes raked over your bare shoulders and he almost felt dizzy at the lingering smell of your strawberry scented shampoo.

Megumi coughed into his fist, feeling a certain stiffness in his pants making itself known. It’d been a while since he got laid so he’d just deal with it using a cold shower and thinking about violent video games or something.

You’re finding you have the same problem.

You feel your face flush when he comes home from the gym in compression shirts and sweatpants, an earbud stuck in his ear and his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. And you just sit there in the living room gawking like an idiot as he mumbles an annoyed ‘hey’ then proceeds to ignore you the rest of the night.

He’s caught you staring a few times, especially when you’re waiting for him to get out of the shower so you can use the bathroom and he emerges wrapped in nothing but a towel, his hair dripping water down his pale chest.

And you totally check him out before slapping a hand over your eyes, cheeks flushed as you squeak out an embarrassed, “sorry!”

He just rolls his eyes with a huff and disappears into his room, leaving you to bang your head against the wall because you’re so dumb.

Yuji was right, you do have a crush.

It’s truly a tragic predicament because he seems to have no interest in you. He barely acknowledges you, humming when you greet him and brushing past you when you’re using a shared space at the same time. It’s almost as if he’s actively avoiding you.

“I made you a coffee,” you’re trying to break the ice somehow because Megumi is so unbelievably unreadable that it hurts.

Megumi looks at you, half-lidded eyes tired and bored as he studies your nervous expression. You place the mug of hot coffee on the counter next to his set up of textbooks, notebooks, pens and his laptop.

You fiddle with your hands, “it’s just coffee and milk, I didn’t know if you wanted sugar–”

“Thanks,” he simply says, nodding with a tight-lipped smile before sticking his earbud back in his ear.

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment before you awkwardly shuffle off to your room. Completely missing how Megumi watches you leave.

Once midterms roll around, Megumi disappears off the face of the earth. You don’t see him for weeks because he’s either cooped up in his room or he stays late on campus and you hear him get home at stupid hours of the night.

The next time you see him is at a party.

The frat house you’re at is packed with college students all at varying stages of drunkenness. You’ve maybe had half a drink, deciding to hide away in the kitchen and people-watch. Yuji and Yuko convinced you to come along since midterms were over and the stress swallowing the entire college campus had seemed to somewhat dissipate. 

One party wouldn’t hurt. 

“Yooo! Y/N you made it!” Yuji exclaims, an arm thrown around Yuko’s shoulders, the two of them clutching red plastic cups full of some mysteriously coloured alcohol. 

“Yeah, I thought I’d try and make some friends,” you reply as Yuko hands you a drink.

“Damn, then what are we?” Yuji’s teases, gesturing between himself and Yuko.

You roll your eyes playfully, “more friends, Itadori,” you clarify.

Yuji was a guy that was easy to get along with, always making friends no matter where he went. You became fast friends with Yuji after he and Yuko started dating since you were instrumental in convincing Yuko to give her number to him way back when.

“You and Fushiguro friends yet?” Yuko asked curiously, slightly yelling over the music.

You grit your teeth, “don’t think so. I put the dishes away wrong once and I think he’s hated me ever since.”

Yuji blows a raspberry, “yeah right, you should try and talk to him tonight, maybe hit on him, hm?” Yuji wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“Why tonight?” You ask curiously.

“Cus he looks lonely,” Yuji points to the other end of the room.

You follow his finger and spot that familiar mop of messy black hair rather quickly. He’s leaning against the wall cradling a drink and damn he looks good in the black shirt he’s wearing, allowing you to totally check out and gawk at his lean muscular arms. He looks beyond bored, his steely blue eyes scanning the crowd with complete disinterest.

You didn’t even know he was coming to this thing and now you’re suddenly motivated to stay.

You gulp down the lump in your throat before squeezing the plastic cup of whatever the fuck in your hand. You lift it to your lips and chuck it back, the bitter alcohol burning your throat on the way down. 

“Atta girl!” Yuji exclaims, “go get your man!”

“You’re for the girls, you know that, Yuji?” You grin.

“I’ve been told,” he beams happily. 

You take Yuko’s drink off her and quickly throw hers back too, needing some liquid courage to get you over there because at least if you say something stupid, you can blame it on the alcohol. 

“Okay, maybe don’t overdo it,” Yuko pats your shoulder.

You take in a breath before nodding and squeezing past your friends, making your way toward your roommate. You didn’t even know he would be at this party, that’s how little you talk to one another. Yet you find yourself getting nervous and stupid around him. 

You’re barely five meters away from him when you stop dead in your tracks.

A blonde girl approaches Megumi, her shoulder bumping his as she leans against the wall next to him. He eyes her before taking a sip of his drink. You don’t hear what she says but he seems vaguely amused by it and you find yourself almost jealous that some random girl managed to get more emotion out of Megumi in the last two seconds than you have in the past two months.

Your heart thumps in your chest and you suddenly feel small and ridiculous. You clear your throat and quickly spin on your heel, heart thumping in your ears as you pick up another drink of whatever crazy jungle juice they’re serving at this frat party and chuck it back. 

He doesn’t even know it and he just crushed your spirit. 

“Uh oh,” Yuji grits his teeth.

“Why’s she coming back?” Yuko asks Yuji.

“I’m going to stand on a highway,” you grin maniacally. Yuko and Yuji peer behind you and spot the same blonde girl talking to Megumi, only this time she’s turned toward him, giving him her undivided attention as she yaps on about something. Megumi still seems vaguely uninterested but he nods along slowly.

“Yikes,” Yuji cringes, “not him talking to his ex.”

“Ex?” you squeak out.

Yuko nudges Yuji’s shoulder, giving him a ‘what the fuck, bro?’ look. Yuji quickly stammers, “I-I mean, they’ve been broken up for like two years, there’s nothing there.”

You don’t believe him for a second because it certainly didn’t look like nothing. You peek back over your shoulder and watch as Megumi chugs the rest of his drink and leaves, the blonde girl trailing behind him. Great, they’re gonna go have sex and you’re stuck having a crush on your roommate who will probably kick you out when he gets back with her. 

Great.

Great.

You turn back to Yuji and Yuko with a wide-eyed nervous smile.

Yuji grits his teeth, “you okay, Y/N?”

You squeak, “mhm, so good!”

Yuko and Yuji share a look with each other before Yuko sighs, “he’s not worth it anyway, you’re a catch, if he can’t see it then he’s stupid.”

You know she’s trying to make you feel better and you’re a relatively confident person, but when you start to crush on someone and they don’t offer any kind of reciprocation for your feelings, you start to feel a little… not so confident. 

Yuko and Yuji try to make you feel better, introducing you to their other friend Nobara who is much more aggressive in her pep talk.

“You’re a hot, sexy mama!” Nobara shakes your shoulders, her speech slurred slightly. “Who cares about that emo hoe anyway!”

You want to laugh but she honestly kind of scares you.

“You gotta get laid by some other guy! A hot guy!” Nobara hiccups, taking another swig from her cup. “Maybe fuck your ex or something! Or, or, or! Fuck one of Fushiguro’s classmates!”

“Uh, I don’t think losing my virginity at a party is exactly ideal,” you reply.

Nobara’s eyes bulge out of her head, “you’re a virgin!?” She says it so loud that a few heads turn and you shush her quickly.

“Tell the whole campus why don’t you?” You scold in a hushed tone.

“You’re hot though, babe,” she hiccups again. “You could pull anyone!”

“Funny.”

“I’m serious!”

You let loose after that, deciding to drink and do shots to avoid thinking about Megumi as if you don’t keep looking for him all night. You’re always peeking over your shoulder, searching for him in the crowd and flat out ignoring the guys Nobara and Yuko attempt to introduce you to. 

You’re not interested in the pre-med students or the business students or whatever the fuck.

You’re more interested in the tall, lean, handsome vet student who happens to be your roommate and who you haven’t seen all night.

After many more rounds of shots, a game of beer pong and poorly deciding to bet Yuji you could drink him under the table; you’re so drunk. You stumble around the party, hanging off Yuji, Nobara and Yuko since they are clearly equally as drunk as you with how they encourage your behaviour. 

Your head is fucking spinning and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

You stumble around the house, clutching the wall and stair bannister as you attempt to find the bathroom. You open a few random doors, spotting people making out, some other people fighting before you finally find the bathroom, bile rising in your throat and your vision going fuzzy. You find a bunch of people smoking what smells like weed in the bathroom, the smell hitting you in the face like a brick wall. 

They all start yelling at you to shut the door and you quickly slam it shut before you stumble back down the stairs, racing to the back door as you feel the vomit start to claw up your throat. You shove the door open, the outside air freezing cold and nipping at your hot skin. 

You half crawl toward the back fence, your stupid heels betraying you as you pathetically fall to your knees and throw your guts up in the garden.

Your brain is on fire and your stomach aches as you throw up all the alcohol in your system. You really shouldn’t have been mixing your alcohols, but Nobara was so convincing and Megumi had just stomped on your heart.

You suddenly feel two cold hands against your head, brushing over your ears as they pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail, holding it out of your face as you throw up. You’re thankful to whatever stranger is helping you out right now because you feel awful.

Tears prick at your eyes, a mix of tears and mascara running down your face because you really fucking hate throwing up and you really hate Megumi Fushiguro right now.

“You okay?” The man’s voice is distant and a little fuzzy.

You wave him off, “m’fine.”

“You’re crying,” he says softly, listening as you sniffle and wipe your tears away with the ball of your palm. There’s a pause, the man still holding your hair back, “why’re you crying?”

You shrug, “cus I’m sick and I’m s’drunk and some stoners yelled at me and roommate is an ass.”

He hums, “what’d he do? …Your roommate?”

“Nothing,” you whine with a soft sniffle.

“Nothing?” He repeats, his voice sounding slightly amused.

“Nothing,” you say again, “that’s the problem.”

There’s a pause. “Why’s that a problem?”

You groan quietly, “why’re you grillin’ me? I’m s’drunk.”

He chuckles softly, “right, sorry.”

You don’t even know this guy and you immediately start rambling, “my friends helped me find a roommate and everyone neglected to tell me he ws’ hot! And I’m tryin’ to get him to like, notice me, but he’s so mean and I’m like ninety-nine percent sure he hates me. Then he was with his ex at this party right before I ws’ gonna go talk to him! Can you believe that?”

“Wow, he is an ass,” the man says matter-of-factly, validating your feelings.

“Thank you,” you slur before you feel your tummy do a flip and you’re throwing up in the garden again. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, smearing your lipgloss messily. You sniffle again, “m’sorry stranger.”

“S’okay,” he rubs your shoulder, still holding your hair back.

You wake up the next morning with the most vicious headache. 

You roll over with a groan, your head pounding and your mouth tasting of acid and whatever the hell was in that jungle juice last night. You press your face into your pillow and groan softly, your entire body feeling like shit. After a few painful seconds, you pry your eyes open, your vision fuzzy and your eyes sore. 

You’re in your bed.

Now how the fuck did you get here?

You sit up slowly, your head pounding and spinning with a wonderfully terrible hangover. You spot your shoes on the floor of your room, neatly sitting next to your desk along with your folded jacket. You half remember someone taking you home, maybe it was Yuji? Fuck, you better thank him.

You take your phone off your side table (which was miraculously put on charge last night) and search for Yuko’s number, you press her name and the phone rings a few times before she answers.

“H-Hello?” Yuko groans, her voice saturated with exhaustion.

“Are you as lucid as I am?” You cringe, rubbing your eyes with the ball of your palm.

You hear Yuko muffle a groan into her pillow, clearly as insanely hungover as you, “we got so drunk.”

“Is Itadori okay?” you ask with a wince.

“He’s throwing up in the shower right now,” she replies.

“That’s rough,” you want to laugh but it hurts too much.

“Well he did crash the beer pong and drank half a bottle of midori so,” she trails off.

“Can you tell him thanks for taking me home?” you sigh.

Yuko pauses, “Yuji didn’t take you home.”

Huh?

“What?” you sit up in bed.

“Babe, Yuji was so drunk he tried to pet a rat in the street, he did not take you home,” she says.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Then who did?”

“Y/N… Fushiguro took you home.”

What?

—

Megumi nurses a drink in his hand as he watches you from across the room. He can’t help the way his chest tightens as he hears you laugh at something Yuji says, your nose scrunching cutely as you let out a bubbly laugh. 

He also can’t help the way his eyes drift down your body, thinking you look cute with your hair done like that. You’re usually wearing baggy sweaters and shorts around the house, he’s never seen this outfit before and he really likes it.

He thinks you look pretty. You always look pretty but this outfit in particular has him short-circuiting like a teenager. 

He thinks back to when he got unnecessarily mad at you over washing his clothes and how he’ll never fucking admit it but they smelled so good. He’s not sure what the hell you used to wash them but they smelled amazing, they smelled like you.

Megumi has to tear his eyes away when his gaze drops to your cute little ass in that mini skirt. He feels like a perv. He lives with you for god sake, he can’t be thinking such things about his roommate. Not when he has to live with you for the next few years. 

Megumi takes a long swig of his drink, attempting to stifle the thoughts with terrible tasting alcohol and pure willpower. 

“Didn’t think I’d ever see Megumi Fushiguro at a party.”

Megumi has to stop himself from rolling his eyes when he hears her voice. 

Hana leans against the wall beside him with a sly grin on her face, her shoulder bumping his. He knows she’s doing it just to annoy him, of course she is. 

“Why’re you talking to me?” Megumi grumbles out, refusing to give her the satisfaction of eye contact as he sips on his drink because he’s gonna need alcohol or a fucking hammer to the head to get him through this interaction.

“Can’t say hi to my ex-boyfriend?” She teases, leaning her head toward him.

Megumi rolls his eyes for real this time, “you’ve said hi.”

“Oh, boo, you’re so not fun,” Hana playfully shoves his shoulder.

Megumi lets out a huffed fake laugh, “I’m really torn up about it.”

Hana talks to him about some random bullshit and Megumi isn’t even listening because he knows she’s drunk and she would be stupid to approach him sober. His eyes are instead glued to you, feeling himself get slightly jealous when Yuji puts a hand on your back to lead to toward the kitchen–

“–and you’re still mad,” Hana slurs. Megumi didn’t hear a word she said up until now.

Megumi side-eyes her, feeling rather annoyed by her incessant nagging, “you done?”

Hana rolls her eyes, “I’m just saying you could at least have a civil conversation.”

Megumi feels his eye twitch, “I think you lose civil-conversation privileges when you– I don’t know– lie and cheat?”

Hana scoffs and Megumi decides he doesn’t want to listen to her bullshit anymore and promptly walks off, shoving his hands in his pockets as he attempts to lose Hana in the crowd. She follows him around like some stupid puppy for a while before growing bored, probably going off to annoy some other poor sucker.

She also seems to lose interest when she notices Megumi simply doesn’t care anymore. She does this sometimes, drunkenly messaging him every few months only for him to promptly block her account without a word. He’s starting to think she’s the one that won’t move on.

Megumi sighs when he steps outside into the backyard, sitting down on the edge of the porch and deciding to look busy by scrolling on his phone. It’s quieter outside, the backyard mostly empty apart from a few people smoking cigarettes and vaping by the back fence.

Megumi Fushiguro is lonely.

Lonely in the sense that after Hana, he became decidedly more stoic and standoffish. She was his first serious girlfriend and he was stupid and naive for so long before Yuji and Nobara pointed out the rather obvious red flags that Megumi was painfully unaware of.

Because he was young and she was a little older, so she had to know better, right?

Maybe he really was too clingy and maybe he really did need to stop asking to hang out all the time. He felt utterly stupid when he found out she was cheating on him. It made sense, he was too clingy, too needy, too much.

Megumi reverted back in on himself for a long time, becoming sad and angry before he just stopped giving a shit.

He did a lot to forget about the anger and pain he felt from Hana.

He slept around to forget about her, becoming reserved and aloof over time. He eventually did get over it because why the fuck was it his fault that she cheated on him?

But the things she made him feel about himself lingered. 

Made him wonder if he really was too needy and clingy to be a good boyfriend. Maybe he wasn’t respectful enough of a person’s space and he needed to stop trying so hard. 

He didn’t go on dates much, everyone always thought he was too mean or rude to ever ask a girl on a date. Sure he slept with girls but they were quick to leave right after with a “yeah, yeah… I can call you if you want?”

If you want.

He just felt embarrassed, letting them gather their clothes and leave his apartment or usher him out of theirs while half-assed promising to text him later. Megumi didn’t know who was using who at that point.

Megumi is shaken from his thoughts when a body almost falls into him. He goes to argue with whoever the fuck can’t watch their step when he sees you.

Your shoes half fall off as you crawl toward the back fence to hurl up everything in your stomach. Megumi quickly slips his phone in his pocket and strides across the lawn toward you. 

You’re totally out of it.

Megumi pulls your hair out of your face as you vomit, tears slipping down your cheeks. Your skirt is riding up and your top is pulled low on your chest. 

“You okay?” Megumi asks softly, maybe one of the very few things he’s ever said to you. He gently adjusts your top, pulling the strap back onto your shoulder and pulling it up a little to cover the lacy material of your bra. You obviously don’t realise you’re compromising yourself and he adjusts himself behind you to cover your skirt as it rides up your thighs.

There are guys who are nudging each other and pointing at you and Megumi’s gaze hardens on them, suddenly feeling agitated.

“M’fine,” you mumble out with a soft sniffle.

Megumi’s heart melts, “why’re you crying?”

You proceed to sniffle and pout while you tell him all about how your roommate is an ass… without realising you’re talking to your roommate.

He thinks it’s cute, finding you so adorably amusing with how animatedly you speak despite being rather drunk and sick. He finds it sad though that it took you being so drunk for him to sum up enough courage to talk to you.

It scared him how you made his heart hammer in his chest, how your mere gaze on him suddenly made him nervous. But he couldn’t stop himself from staring. You were too cute with your dorky little grin as you stood at his front door telling him all about how you were his new roommate. He made a mental note to curse Yuji out for not telling him Yuko’s friend was a pretty girl and not the six foot two fucking pro wrestler guy he made you sound like.

You can’t possibly have any more to throw up, your skin feverish and clammy as your fingers curl into the grass below you. Megumi rubs your shoulder gently before he feels you slump against him, sniffling and tiredly whimpering beside him.

Megumi goes stiff, unsure of what to do with you. 

He should probably take you home.

“M’gonna take you home, okay?” Megumi says, feeling your body go a little more limp as you nod and pout in response.

Megumi easily picks you up, your legs dangling and your head falling against his chest, then he feels like he can’t breathe.

You look so pretty even when your skin flushes a little pale from being so sick and your baby hairs stick to your clammy skin. He carries you around the side of the house to avoid taking you back through the loud ass party.

You don’t make a peep as Megumi sits you in the passenger seat of his car, your head falling against the car window as he pulls your seatbelt over your shoulder, clipping it by your waist. He quickly sends Yuji a message to let him know he’s taking you home, though he doubts Yuji will pay attention to his phone since he seemed to be having a really good time taking shots and singing bad karaoke.

The car ride is silent and all Megumi can think about is what you said.

Maybe he kind of was being an ass to you. He hadn’t made much of an effort to get to know you or make you feel welcome because, in all honesty, you freak him out with how you made him feel without even trying.

So instead, he ignores you.

Pretending he doesn’t notice how your tongue pokes out from between your lips when you’re deep in focus, or how you always wear fuzzy socks around the house when you don’t have classes, or how you do a little jump to reach things on the higher shelves (which makes him melt), or how you still look at him with such kindness despite how piss poor he behaves around you.

Megumi holds you close as he opens your bedroom door, pushing it the rest of the way open to set you down on your bed. Your hair is messy and your clothes are disheveled, a little pout on your cute little lips as you sway slightly. 

You fall back onto your bed, your head hitting the soft pillow. Megumi sighs before sitting on the edge of your bed, large hands reaching to pull your shoes off for you. 

Your feet look like they hurt, little red blisters forming on your heels and toes. He gently pulls your shoes off and sets them down by your bedside table. You sigh with relief at the feeling of having your feet free of their heel prison. 

Megumi breathes softly and just studies you for a moment. It’s dark in your room but he can see the gentle outline of your face and the curve of your cheek. Your room is quiet apart from your soft breaths and Megumi prays you can’t hear his thumping heart. 

Megumi lets his eyes wander, unable to tear his gaze away from the soft lacy hem of your bra peeking over your top. His breath hitches in his throat and he suddenly feels disgusting for wondering if your panties match your bra— He closes his eyes, biting the inside of his lip.

You whine in your sleep, some of your hair falling in front of your face as you squirm. Without thinking, he reaches up and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, thumb brushing over your cheek.

You stir at the feeling and Megumi pulls away, scared he woke you.

“Mm, where’m I?” you slur, eyes still pressed closed.

“You’re home, don’t worry,” Megumi replies softly.

“Mm, okay,” you breathe, “thanks, Yuji…”

Megumi’s heart sinks but his face remains unchanged. Of course you’d think Yuji took you home, he’s your friend. Why would you Megumi do something like that for you?

He pulls away from you with a quiet sigh, “get some sleep, Y/N.”

—

“How do you know he took me home?” You ask, shaking your head slightly as you restock the mini fridge under the counter with milk.

You managed to shake off the hangover after three days of staying curled up in bed drinking water, throwing back ibuprofen and watching kitchen nightmares on your laptop with all the lights off. But now you’re back at work being blinded by the awful fluorescent lights and smelling of burnt coffee.

Yuko presses a button on the coffee machine, “he texted Yuji, told him he was gonna take you home,” Yuko replies, her hands on her hips.

You let out a shaky sigh, eyebrows furrowed in confusion because why would Megumi have taken you home when he seems so perpetually annoyed by you?

And how did he even find you? You remember the smell of the weed in the bathroom and people yelling at you, then you remember stumbling into the backyard like a bumbling fool, then— 

Oh, no.

“I don’t even know where you went, you’re lucky Fushiguro kept an eye on you–”

“No!” You suddenly squeak.

Yuko gives you a dazed look, “what? What happened?”

You press your hands to your face, drawing out a muffled groan because it just fucking dawned on you who held your hair back in the garden that night.

“It was him!”

“What are you talking about? Who?”

“Fushiguro! He held my hair back in the garden! I called him an ass!” you whine.

Yuko pauses for a moment before she just starts laughing, pressing her hand to her mouth to muffle the sound. You look up at her with the most offended look on your face.

You throw a rag at her, “don’t laugh! I was so mean!”

“That’s one way to break the ice,” she giggles, flinching away from you as you playfully swat at her leg with another rag.

“Ozawa…” you whine, “he must be so mad at me.”

“He still took you home after that though? I think you’re overthinking it.”

“He should have left me there in that damp backyard in my own vomit!” you say dramatically. “No wonder he thinks I’m a fucking idiot.”

“I really doubt he thinks that,” Yuko rolls her eyes, becoming sick of this beating-around-the-bush mantra you’ve got going on.  

“I have to pay all the rent for like, a year as an apology.”

“Can you even afford that?”

“No!”

You slug around for the rest of your shift, moping about behind the counter and wishing the ground would just swallow you whole. When the end of your shift rolls around, you feel more and more nervous about going home now that you’ve figured out you called Megumi an ass to his face.

Before you clean the coffee machine, you make a coffee to take home for him since he seems to always drink the coffees you make for him even if he seems annoyed by you interrupting his studying. 

Your hands are shaking as you unlock the front door, holding a cup of hot coffee and a cinnamon bun in a paper back in your other hand. Your heart is in your throat as you push the door open, peeking inside.

You see Megumi from the front door, he’s sitting at his desk in the living room, laptop open and a few notebooks stacked beside him. Classes haven’t even ramped back up yet and he’s already studying.

You kick your shoes off and shuffle down the hall, heartbeat thumping in your ears and suddenly feeling a chill down your spine at the idea of facing your roommate who you insulted.

You clear your throat, “uh, h-hey.”

Megumi has his earbuds in but he notices you standing there in the corner of his eyes. He takes his earbuds out, “you okay?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I got you a coffee.”

You place it down beside him. He doesn’t take his eyes off yours.

Your knees feel weak under his steely gaze. You quickly hand him the paper bag, “and a cinnamon bun.”

“Thanks,” he says simply.

There’s a long awkward pause before you huff out a shaky sigh, “listen, Fushiguro– I’m sorry about the other night when I like, threw up everywhere and called you an ass–”

“S’fine,” Megumi replies blankly.

“No, really, I was mean and rude and I didn’t mean it–”

“I know, idiot,” he cuts you off again, “seriously, it’s fine.”

Your lips form a tight line, eyebrows furrowed with worry because it’s not fine. You want to say more but you’re pretty sure Megumi doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. Which is understandable, you’re just happy he hasn’t kicked you out yet.

You toy with your fingers for a moment before you nod awkwardly, shuffling off toward your room. You miss as Megumi watches you leave again, feeling stupid for how bad he is at talking about his feelings.

You avoid Megumi like the plague after that.

You’re so utterly embarrassed by what you said and you can only imagine how mad he is about it but at least he’s doing you a favour by not mentioning it.

You disappear from any room he walks into, slinking by and apologising awkwardly when you take up too much time in the bathroom, or bowing your head and averting your gaze when he walks into the kitchen, you’re embarrassed and you feel awful, and it bothers you that Megumi is so vague and mysterious about how he feels about you, sure he took you home and pulled your dirty shoes off your feet and put you to bed. But he also gives you curt nods and vague responses that leave you wondering whether or not he likes you or just tolerates you. 

Are you friends? Just roommates? Does he like you? Does he hate you? 

You’ve got no earthly idea and the easiest way to survive in such a predicament is to just avoid the very thing that’s causing the problem. 

And Megumi is so damn annoyed by it.

At first it was him who was avoiding you, hiding away in his room so he didn’t have to interact with you and now that he knows you’ve been trying to get him to notice you, he’s been trying to linger around nearby and sort of force the proximity because he has no idea how to approach you like a normal fucking person. 

He reaches things for you on the top shelf when you can’t reach them, he makes sure to take your sweaters out of the washing machine so they don’t shrink, he even sets aside the caramel flavoured coffee pods for you because he knows they’re your favourite. 

He’s bad at all of this. The talking part.

What if you think he’s too needy or too clingy or too much? That would just embarrass him even more than he already is. 

Megumi lets you be, assuming that you’re probably regretting everything you said that night after he so blatantly blew you off when you brought home a coffee for him the other night.

But you talk again when your car doesn’t start.

“Fuck,” you groan, turning your key in the ignition for the third time in the past minute, the engine ticking, ticking, ticking before you give up. You whine and give a half-hearted punch to the steering wheel. 

You knew this would happen eventually. 

Your car is run down and sort of shitty. You have to basically shoulder check the driver’s side door to get it open and you can’t actually open one of the back doors anymore because it refuses to unlock. But you’re broke and the damn thing gets you from A to B, except for today.

It’s raining and your hair is stuck to your head from the mad dash you did from the front door to your car and now it won’t even start. 

You’re basically drenched when you step back inside the front door.

“I thought you left already?” Megumi questions from the kitchen, holding a bowl of cereal in his hand.

“My stupid car won’t– oh,” you cut yourself off when your eyes meet with Megumi clearly fresh out of the shower.

He’s wearing grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips and no shirt, little droplets of water slipping down his broad shoulders and chest from his slightly damp hair. He’s looking at you with a bored expression, waiting for you to continue.

You clear your throat and decide the ceiling is so very interesting, “u-uh, yeah, my car won’t start, ‘m just gonna walk–”

“You’re gonna walk?” Megumi’s eyes narrow.

“I mean I’m poor so,” you give a sheepish laugh.

Megumi rolls his eyes, putting the bowl of cereal down on the counter and turning on his heel to pull his black hoodie off the couch, slipping it over his head.

“We’ll take my car,” he says, grabbing his keys off the side table beside the couch.

Your eyes widen, “huh? What– no, it’s fine–”

“Walking in this weather would be dumb,” Megumi grumbles, “just get in my car, idiot.”

You press your mouth shut and do as you're told, trailing behind him as he picks up his umbrella by the door, holding it over your head as you take the short walk to his car. Megumi holds the umbrella completely over you, the heavy rain completely drenching his left shoulder.

“You’re getting wet,” you point out.

“M’aware,” he retorts without looking at you.

Your shoulder bumps with Megumi’s bicep given the height difference between you. You’ve never been this close to him before, well, at least not sober. You never realised how much taller he is than you, it makes you feel kind of safe.

Megumi unlocks his car and opens the door for you, holding the umbrella completely over you until you’re safe in the passenger seat of his car. You curl your fingers around your tote bag nervously, Megumi getting in the driver’s seat.

“Thank you,” you squeak out.

Megumi starts up his car, his car being one of those ones that has a push button to start instead of a key, “I don’t mind,” he shrugs.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, your heart punching against your chest. You take a breath before you look over at Megumi.

“Do you hate me, Fushiguro?”

The question just hangs there and Megumi feels his heart falter at such a question because no, he doesn’t hate you. Not even a little.

It upsets him that you think he hates you, that you think so little of yourself that you let yourself get torn up over what he thinks of you.

He had no idea he was coming off that way, that you genuinely thought he hated you. 

He opens his mouth to speak but it never comes out. He’s not sure what to say or what to do to make you see that hate is the furthest thing from his mind when it comes to you. But instead, Megumi’s mind is choked with thoughts and it’s so overwhelming that he just clutches the steering wheel and silently drives you to campus. 

He still hasn’t spoken when he parks the car.

The two of you are silent for a moment before he hears you sniffle, his heart snapping in two at the mere sound of it. 

“T-Thank you,” you murmur, quickly pushing the door open and shuffling out before Megumi can protest.

No. Fuck. No, he didn’t mean it like that.

“Y/N, wait,” he gets out of the driver’s side, umbrella clutched in his fist.

You’re holding your tote bag tight to your chest as you walk across the pavement in the pouring fucking rain. 

“Y/N!” Megumi is behind you, his hand curling around your upper arm and stopping you in your tracks.

You pause, turning to face him, eyes glassy and doe-like as you stare up at him, “what is it?” you force out. 

You both hope he says something, anything. He pants, his hair sticking to his face as his steely eyes show the first ounce of emotion you’ve seen from him. 

“Y-You…” Megumi doesn’t stammer, he never does. “Take it,” he holds out the umbrella for you.

A silence hangs between you and you sigh, taking the umbrella from his grasp and opening it above your head, leaving him there in the carpark. 

—

Megumi beat himself up over it for days.

He picks you up that same rainy afternoon, the two of you not uttering a single word to one another other than a ‘hey’ from him and a ‘thank you’ from you. He wants to tell you everything, that he’s really bad at talking about things and that he doesn’t hate you. 

He’s not sure how to prove it to you, the words dying in his throat the moment he shares a room with you for more than five seconds. He’s not sure what to say or how to say it.

Hana always told him he talked too much. Which was crazy because Megumi was a man of very few words. But when the two of them would fight, he was always so adamant at resolving the issue and getting to the root of the problem instead of just letting it hang in the air and choke him.

He sometimes wonders if that’s why she cheated.

You don’t talk to Megumi for a while. Feeling small and embarrassed about asking him such a question when you knew deep down it wasn’t true and you just wanted to hear it from him. 

But it hurt when he didn’t deny your question, when he just stayed silent and let you fuss over it for days. You’ve lost sleep, laying away at night and wondering if you should just talk to him. 

Megumi tries to approach you, he really does. 

He thinks about knocking on your bedroom door late at night but every time he finds himself standing outside, arm held up about to knock, he stops himself and wonders if he even deserves to talk to you. 

If he even deserves to try again. 

“I’m the best you’ll ever have.”

He knew it wasn’t true at face value. He knew Hana wasn’t good for him in the end, but it’s hard to ignore such bitterness coming from someone you used to love. 

“Hey, Yuko,” you greet softly, phone pressed to your ear. “Can I ask a favour?”

“Of course… you okay, Y/N?” Yuko asks slowly, her voice gentle.

You pause, “I just… I need a ride to campus until I can get my car fixed. Would you and Itadori mind if I tagged along? I’ll give you fuel money.”

Yuko pauses this time, “…You didn’t ask Fushiguro?”

You toy with your fingers nervously, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

She hums and nods, “We can take you, Y/N.” 

Yuko knows you well enough to know that something happened. You spoke so timidly and she could tell you were nervously fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. She would talk to Yuji about it; hopefully he could knock some sense into his best friend. 

It's first thing Monday morning when you emerge from your room with your tote bag over your shoulder and your hair done in a messy claw clip. You look tired, bags forming under your eyes and you make a beeline for the door without even acknowledging Megumi. 

“Do you need a ride?” Megumi sits up straighter on the couch and holds his keys up as if he didn’t set an alarm just to take you to class. 

“Uh, no, thanks. Ozawa and Itadori are taking me,” you say sheepishly, barely offering him a glance. 

Megumi’s heart cracks a little. He wants to say something, tell you he’s sorry and ask if he can please take you to class. But he doesn’t, mouth staying shut as he nods quickly, “right. Okay.” 

You leave without another word, the apartment feeling awful and still without you. Megumi’s leg bounces nervously and his blunt nails scratch at the inside of his knee. He’s anxious and he wants to fix it so desperately but he feels like he’s only making it worse.

“Hey, Y/N,” Yuji greets with a warm smile.

You offer him a half smile before getting in the back seat. Yuko and Yuji share a look with one another before Yuji backs out of the apartment parking lot. There’s an intensity hanging in the air and you just stare out the window with a blank expression, vaguely paying attention to the music on the radio.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Yuji asks softly, eyeing you through the rearview mirror.

“M’fine,” you whisper back, too afraid to trust your voice.

“What happened?” Yuko reaches back between the seats to touch your knee affectionately. 

You shrug, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Yuko pulls her hand away from you and glances at her boyfriend, the two of them making a silent agreement to talk to Fushiguro after dropping you off instead of going to their morning classes.

Yuji slams the door open, nearly sending Megumi flying into the roof with how loud it was, “Fushiguro!”

“The fuck are you yelling for?” Megumi spits, gaze softening slightly after realising Yuko was trailing behind Yuji.

Yuko frowns, “what did you say to Y/N?”

“What?”

“She was upset, Fushiguro,” Yuji crosses his arms, “what did you say to her?”

“Nothing,” Megumi defends quickly.

“Then why is she upset?” Yuko’s brows furrow.

Megumi sighs, “she just asked me if I hated her–”

Yuji cuts him off, “and what did you say?”

Megumi averts his gaze, “nothing.”

“You said what?” Yuko presses.

“I didn’t know what to say–”

“You say, ‘no Y/N, I don’t!’,” Yuji mocks before landing a punch to Megumi’s shoulder, “you upset her, bro.”

“I know,” Megumi grumbles.

“Then why didn’t you apologise?” Yuko asks.

“I didn’t know how,” Megumi dejectedly sighs. “I didn’t expect it.”

“She likes you, man. Like a lot,” Yuji shakes his head, his heart hurting a little at the fact that Megumi looks really torn up about the whole situation too.

There’s a long pause, “can you lie to her?”

“What?” Yuko and Yuji ask in unison.

“Tell her you can’t pick her up,” Megumi adds, “please.”

Yuji and Yuko share another look and Yuko sighs before nodding her head, taking out her phone to tell you that she and Yuji can’t come get you because Yuji’s brother called and needed his help. It’s not a great lie, but you’ll believe it at first glance.

—

Your phone buzzes in the middle of class. You’re tired and you feel like shit and the professor’s monotone voice is boring you half to death. You flip your phone over and read the message from Yuko.

Yuko <3: Hey, Y/N. Choso called and he needs to borrow Yuji’s car, we can’t come get you this afternoon. Sorry hun x

You frown.

Yuko <3: But don’t worry, Fushiguro is coming to get you.

You panic, quickly unlocking your phone to message her back, telling her you’ll get an uber or just walk but you get a message from an unknown number only a second later.

Unknown: I’ll come get you.

You rest your head in your palm and go to message him back telling him it’s fine but the speech bubbles appear and reappear before he sends the message.

Unknown: Please wait.

You let out a shaky breath, your heart pittering loudly in your chest. You zone out for the remainder of the class, nervously chewing on your nails and tapping on the desk. You don’t want to talk to Megumi, you really don’t. At least not while you feel like shit and your thoughts are a huge mess.

You sit on the grass after your lecture, pulling at the blades of grass by your feet while you stare at the ground, teeth nipping anxiously at the inside of your lower lip. You don’t know what Megumi wants to say to you or why he even agreed to pick you up if he was so against talking about whatever the hell was going on between you two.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when a pair of black sneakers intrudes on your line of sight, you know it’s Megumi from the little scuff marks on the edge since they’re so worn out but they’re his favourite pair.

He doesn’t say anything as he stares at you, hands shoved in the pockets off his hoodie like they always are. You wordlessly stand up, pulling your tote bag to your chest and pushing past him without a word.

“Y/N, I–”

You’re too far ahead of him now, making your way to his parked car on the curb. His head hurts and his chest is tight with nerves but he’s quick to unlock the car for you and let you scoot into the passenger seat.

Megumi quickly joins you, turning on the car and just sitting there for a moment, hands tight around the wheel. 

“I–” Megumi feels his throat close up, “I’m sorry.” You feel your eyes glass over but you don’t offer him anything else but he continues, “I don’t hate you, Y/N.”

“S’fine if you do,” you say quietly, “I know I can be annoying and intrusive–”

“–What? You’re not–”

“And I understand if you want me to move out–”

“No, Y/N, I don’t want that–”

You’re rambling now without thinking, “–nd I know you probably need me to move out cus of that girl at the party–”

“What girl?” Now he’s fucking confused.

“And she’s pretty and I saw you talking to her–”

Wait, his ex?

“–Wait, Y/N, that’s not–”

“And I’m sorry I was so drunk–”

“Y/N, stop!” Megumi didn’t mean to yell, but it instantly shuts you up. He peers over at you and you’re crying, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”

“S’okay,” you sniffle, wiping your tears away.

“No, it’s not… You just wouldn’t shut up,” Megumi makes an attempt at dry humour, letting you know it was a joke by following up with a half-assed breathy laugh.

You just look at him, eyes slightly red.

“I– Fuck,” Megumi curses, knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel. 

The two of you stay silent, the only thing either of you hear is your quiet sniffling. Megumi sighs, running a hand through his messy hair before speaking, “...she cheated on me.”

Your eyes widen a little.

“That girl you saw. Yeah, she was my ex but… she cheated on me.”

“...I’m sorry, Fushiguro.”

“Stop calling me that,” he grumbles.

“It’s your name,” you retort.

“I don’t want you to call me Fushiguro,” he presses his eyes shut.

Your lips form a tight line and you just watch him, waiting patiently for him to continue because you can tell he’s trying really hard.

“Can you just call me Megumi,” he sighs. “Please?”

You nod, “okay, Megumi,” you whisper softly.

“...I don’t hate you, Y/N. Not even a little,” his eyes finally meet yours.

“You’re really bad at showing it,” you say with a breathy laugh.

“I know… M’just really–” he stops himself, his hand scrunching against the material over his thigh, “I’m just scared.”

Your heart shatters, a pout pulling at your lip because you feel like you’re about to cry again. You study him for a moment, your heart warming at the sight of Megumi Fushiguro being so utterly soft and nervous.

You hesitate for a moment before you reach your hand over the centre console to stop him from grabbing and pulling at his own thigh. His hand is cold and his palm is rough but it’s him. And you were sitting here thinking you needed his comfort when really he needed yours.

He flinches at the gentleness of your touch, your hand is smaller than his but it’s so soft and warm. 

He lets you wrap your fingers around the back of his hand, lets you roll his hand over and press your palm to his. It’s comforting and it’s sweet.

“You don’t need to be scared, Gumi.”

His heart flutters at the nickname and his steely blue eyes nervously meet yours. He nods his head slowly and you smile.

“Feel better?” You ask softly.

Megumi holds your hand in his, eyes still searching yours before they flicker down to your lips briefly. You catch the quick movement and your body reacts without any input from your brain, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

“Gumi?”

Megumi doesn’t need much more motivation than that and his other hand lets go of the wheel to reach over and cup your warm cheek. Your breath hitches in your throat and your eyes flicker between his nervously. His eyes are half-lidded, nose grazing yours and your hand squeezes tight around his.

“S’okay,” he coos softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “M’gonna kiss you.”

Your heart is in your throat and you start overthinking it, thinking back to the maybe handful of times a boy has kissed you, but never a man, never someone like Megumi.

You nod your head quickly and a smile tugs at the corner of Megumi’s lip because you’re so fucking cute.

You feel the world melt away when Megumi’s breath fans across your lips, his hand coming to cup the back of your head, guiding you to tilt your head slightly as he finally, finally, closes the distance between you, his slightly chapped lips meeting yours.

You melt into his warmth, one hand nervously holding his while the other has a death grip on the strap of your tote bag. 

His lips move against yours, becoming a little more feverish and needy when you let out a soft whine. He feels himself go feral, wanting to drag you into the back seat and take you in this stupid parking lot where everyone can see.

But instead he takes it slow, pressing your lips against his and his hand tangling in your soft hair. You’re nervous and a little inexperienced, he can tell but it only drives him more insane.

He pulls away only a fraction, a cheeky smile pulling at his lips when he realises your lips chase his, your other hand coming to curl around his hoodie sleeve to bring him closer.

“Wasn’t so bad?” Megumi whispers.

You have the most innocent little look on your face, “does that mean you like me?”

Megumi can only chuckle softly at how damn cute you are, “I don’t just kiss any girl like that, Y/N.”

You nod timidly, “m’kay, Gumi.”

Megumi wants to kiss you again but refrains because he knows he’ll want to do other things to you with how you utter the nickname with such innocence, but you’re in a parking lot on your college campus and there are about fifty people that have walked by in the past ten minutes.

But when you get home?

“Megumi–” your hands are clutching the front of his hoodie as he kisses the side of your cheek, then your temple, then above your eyebrow, “wait a second.”

“S-Sorry,” he mutters against your warm skin. 

You’ve barely got one foot in the door and Megumi already has you pinned against the wall in the hallway, a large hand cupping your head while the other rests on your waist. He pants softly, lips itching to kiss you and kiss you hard.

“I’m sorry too,” you say breathlessly. “For not seeing.”

Megumi shakes his head, “you don’t need to be sorry.”

“But I am,” you murmur, “you’re really bad at talking about your feelings but I should have been more observant.”

“S’okay, Y/N,” he rests his forehead against yours, “m’just glad you let me pick you up.”

“I thought about just walking,” you giggle, “letting you grovel for a little longer.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“I’m glad I didn’t.”

“I’m glad you didn’t either,” he smiles softly, running the pad of his thumb along your cheek.

You fall silent, hands just holding onto his hoodie while he presses feather-light kisses to your face. You suddenly feel nervous when you feel a certain stiffness against your thigh.

“...Do you want to–”

“I’m a virgin.”

Megumi pulls away from you, “W-What?”

“You were gonna ask if we could… y’know,” your eyes shift away from him, “I panicked.”

Megumi laughs, like actually, laughs at that.

“Don’t laugh,” you playfully punch his shoulder, your bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “A lot of people are still virgins in college.”

“M’not laughing at that,” he grins. “You’re just… you’re really cute.”

You feel your face heat at that, “stop it.”

“M’serious.”

“You’re always serious.”

“Whatever.”

You giggle softly, letting him press a soft peck to your lips.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie,” Megumi lies through his teeth, liking the way you flush and stammer at outing yourself. 

“Oh,” you say quietly. 

“Why ‘oh’?” He teases.

“Nothing,” you say quickly, brows knit.

“What?” he presses with a shit-eating grin. 

“Nothing,” you retort.

“...Did you want to have sex?”

Your heart drops, eyes widening slightly because yes, you do want to have sex with Megumi. You’d never really thought much about sex until him. Never thought you’d want a guy to manhandle you or put his hands all over your body until Megumi.

“Can we?” you ask timidly.

Megumi feels a pang in his heart because you’re so fucking cute he might pass away. He smiles before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “if you want to.”

“But do you want to?”

Megumi doesn’t need to think very hard about that one.

“I’ve wanted you in my bed since I first met you, Y/N.”

You breathe hard, your heart racing in your chest and you’re sure it’s loud enough for Megumi to hear how fucking nervous yet turned on you are. Your eyes fall to his lips again, revelling in the feeling of his breath fanning over your lips.

You press up on your tiptoes, Megumi’s head slowly tilting and following you, wondering what you’re doing. Your soft lips graze the shell of his ear and you smile cheekily, about to fucking out yourself with the last of your confidence. 

“Fuck me then.”

Megumi slams you against the wall, arms caging your body as he presses his lips hard against yours. The kiss is needy and feverish, a mess of clashing teeth and wandering hands. Megumi’s hand cups the back of your head, tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss.

His tongue presses against your lips before sliding into your mouth, earning a soft whine from your throat that you didn’t mean to sound so desperate. Your fists curl around the material of his hoodie, pulling Megumi impossibly closer.

Megumi’s free hand drops from your waist to your hip, squeezing your skin. His other hand drops from your head to curl over your hips and grope your ass. Both of his hands cup your ass, kneading the soft flesh and earning a soft mewl from your throat.

“You sound so pretty, baby,” Megumi mutters against your lips, his messy hair tickling your forehead. You want to moan and whine at the nickname but instead you kiss him again.

You’ve got the hang of this kissing thing but you still have no fucking idea where to put your hands without making him uncomfortable– as if his hands aren’t groping your ass.

Megumi pulls away slightly breathless, “you wanna stop?”

“No,” you shake your head quickly, “no, I don’t wanna stop.”

Megumi grins, kissing your cheek, “okay, sweet girl.”

Megumi leads you to his bedroom, his hand never leaving yours and your other hand never letting go of his hoodie sleeve. He pushes his bedroom door open, his lips on your instantly as he backs you up to his bed. The backs of your thighs hit his mattress and you fall backward, bringing Megumi with you. 

Megumi chuckles softly against your lips before kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then the underside of your jaw, then your neck. His hand paws at the bottom hem of your sweater, his fingers slipping underneath to ghost over the skin of your bare tummy. 

“M’gonna take it off, okay?” 

You nod sheepishly, “okay.”

“You tell me if you want me to stop,” he breathes.

“I will, Gumi,” you reply with a whisper, kissing the tip of his nose.

Megumi grins affectionately before his hands grip the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up slightly. Your breath hitches in your throat and he slowly pulls your sweater upward and over your tits. You’re not wearing a shirt, just a lacy black bra, just like the one he got a peek of at the party.

“Pretty,” Megumi murmurs, pressing a kiss to your chest, right between your collarbones. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him against your hot skin as he peppers kisses across your chest, finally pulling your sweater over your head and tossing it aside. You’re left in your pretty bra and a short little skirt that finished above your mid thigh. 

God how he wants to bite and suck on your pretty plush thighs.

His hand snakes underneath you, fingers fiddling with your bra clasp at your back. Your breathing quickens and Megumi kisses your cheek, “s’okay… m’here.”

He unclasps your bra, the cups loosening around your tits and the straps going slack on your shoulders. His fingers ghost over your shoulder as he pulls the strap down your shoulder, pressing soft kisses in his wake.

“C-Can you go faster?” You whine, your voice quiet.

Megumi chuckles, lifting his head to peer up at you, pupils blown wide, “am I going to slow for you, pretty girl?”

You bite your lip, “mhm.”

Megumi lifts his thigh, pressing it between your legs to where you desperately want him. You whine when he presses his strong thigh against your clothed heat, your skirt bunching up at your waist. Your skin feels hot and you feel a wetness pooling in your panties, making your face flush with embarrassment at your own neediness.

“I’ve thought about this,” Megumi whispers, pulling your bra cup down, his large hand cupping your plush breast. “A lot.”

You moan softly, your nipples hardening under the cold chill of the air in his room.

“Thought about what you’d sound like.”

He lowers his head slightly, pressing long, wet kisses to your pretty nipples. Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him down and forcing him to nip and suck at the soft skin.

“Thought about how you’d look.”

You roll your hips involuntarily against his strong thigh, feeling the friction against your poor little clit. You moan underneath him, your heart racing as he lowers his head to kiss down your tummy to the hem of your skirt.

“Thought about how you’d taste.”

You suddenly let out a surprised gasp when Megumi pulls your lower body off the bed, your hands curling into his bedsheets for support. You peer down at him, your heart in your throat at the sight of Megumi between your legs, his fingers curling underneath the waistband of your skirt and pulling.

He drops the material on the floor, his large hands curling underneath your thighs and pulling them apart, “w-wait, Gumi.”

He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, “what is it, princess?”

“W-What are you doing?”

Megumi smiles against the inside of your thigh, “m’gonna eat your pretty pussy.”

Your hands curl into the sheets and you feel a glob of arousal seep from your cunt. If this is how fucked up he gets you just from kissing you, how the hell are you going to hold up with his tongue inside you?

“You okay with that?”

You nod your head quickly without thinking, a thin sheen of sweat already coating your skin. “P-Please–”

Megumi chuckles softly at how damn cute you are, his fingers hooking under the sides of your panties, pulling them down your legs. They’re covered in your arousal, your pretty pussy glistening under the warm glow of the setting sun.

God he wishes he could take a picture.

“G-Gumi?” You peer down at him, “s-stop staring.”

Megumi pulls your thighs over his shoulders, his hair tickling the insides of your spread legs, “sorry, sweet girl, she’s just s’pretty.”

You let out an involuntary moan when he presses a kiss to your swollen clit, the sudden attention sending a jolt of pleasure through your tummy. You want to slam your thighs closed, your body desperate for friction. 

“Don’t tease me,” you whine. “Please–”

Megumi’s fingers curl into your thighs, pulling them apart further and forcing your pussy lips open to press the flat of his tongue against your awaiting clit. 

“M-Megumi–”

You throw your head back against the bed, one of your hands pressing against the back of his head, forcing him closer to your pussy. No one has ever touched you like this, no one has ever put their mouth on you, no one has ever seen your pretty pussy and you couldn’t think of anyone better than Megumi Fushiguro to be the one to tongue-fuck you right now.

“You ever masturbated, baby?”

You whine, “a-are you teasing me or something?”

He smiles against your clit, tongue dipping down to lap up your slick, “maybe a little. I just wanna know if you’ve ever had something inside you.” His thumbs spread you open, his tongue flicking against your clit and making you whine even louder. “Shh, baby, we have neighbours.”

You don’t give a fuck right now.

“I’ve masturbated b-before,” you say after a hard huff, you feel fucking breathless.

“Oh, yeah?” Megumi presses his tongue against your little hole, lewdly slurping up the insane amount of arousal leaking from you. “You should show me.”

“No!” you whine, “so embarrassing.”

“I think it’d be hot,” the tip of his middle finger presses against your hole. “Maybe some other time.”

You cry out, hands gripping the sheets when Megumi presses the tip of his middle finger into your cunt. His fingers are thicker than yours and you can only imagine so much longer, able to press against parts of you you’ve never reached before. 

“Gumi–” you pant, “m-more.”

“More?” He raises a brow at you.

“Please, please–”

“You’re so cute.”

“Shut up!” you whimper, “js’ touch me–” Megumi can’t deny you, not when you sound so fucking gorgeous and you taste like fucking heaven. 

He presses his finger into you, twisting his hand around and curling his finger inside you. You want to cry, your eyes screwed shut and your belly burning. He fucks his finger into you slowly, his tongue lapping and sucking your clit while your thighs press against his head.

“Gonna add another one, okay, baby?”

You nod your head desperately and he smiles cheekily, pressing a second finger into you to stretch you open. You throw your head back at the delicious stretch, your slick coating Megumi’s fingers and dripping down his wrist.

Megumi feels your thighs pressing together harder and he forces your thigh down with his free hand, your knee almost hitting your chest with how he pins it down. He’s spreading you open, tongue flicking against your clit and fingers curling against your gummy walls.

“Gumi– m’gonna–” you feel your tummy burn and you’re so fucking embarrassed that you’re about to cum from just having two fingers inside you. You start to pant, hands tangling in his hair as lewd slurping and squelches fill his room.

“S’okay, baby. Cum on my mouth,” he groans against you, his cock rock hard from feeling your hips grind against his face. You might be a virgin but your body knows what it wants as you rut against his tongue and your legs shake.

Megumi suddenly shakes his head over your clit, his mouth covered in your slick and you just cum. It crashes into you like a fucking train and you whine and moan against the back of your hand as Megumi fucks his fingers into your sopping cunt, your hole spasming and clenching down on his fingers.

He scissors and curls his fingers inside you, fucking you through your orgasm and feeling a sense of pride but also getting a huge fucking ego boost that he’s the first man to ever make you cum.

Your chest is heaving up and down, your vision cloudy and your mind feeling fuzzy as you come back down from your high. Megumi pulls his fingers out of you, kissing the inside of your thigh and lapping up the mess you made all over yourself.

You sit up on your elbows, face flushed and hair dishevelled as you peer down at Megumi. You suddenly feel immensely embarrassed that he was just between your legs, his tongue flicking over your clit and his fingers deep inside you.

“Fuck, you taste better than I imagined,” Megumi licks his fingers clean while holding eye contact with you. 

You whine and flop back onto the bed, earning a soft chuckle from Megumi as he gets to his feet, attempting to find a towel or old shirt somewhere.

“Where are you going?” You ask timidly.

“M’gonna clean you up, don’t worry, I won’t go,” he replies, quickly pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“But…” your eyes flicker to the obvious bulge in his pants.

“Hm?” He follows your gaze. “Oh, m’okay, princess. It’s not about me anyway.”

“But, I want to–”

“S’okay, Y/N,” he lifts your hand, kissing your knuckles softly, “you can try some other time.”

“...Do you not want to?”

He grins, “course I want to.”

“Then let me,” you whine, pulling him closer to you. “Please.”

Megumi ponders it for a moment. He doesn’t want to frighten you and he’s so fucking scared of losing control and just bending you over and fucking your brains out. But the way you look at him with your pretty wide eyes and your hands gripping his thighs as he stands between your legs– 

How could he say no?

“You want to, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay… we’ll go slow,” he urges, petting your hair gently. 

You’re so fucking eager to please him that it makes him weak. Your post-orgasm body is shaky as you reach for the zipper of his pants, your fingertips grazing against the sensitive bulge. He groans softly, hand petting your head as he lets you figure it out, slowly unzipping his pants and pulling them down a little.

There’s a dark wet patch on his boxers, he’s so fucking turned on by your pretty sounds and your intoxicating taste that his cock is leaking and begging for attention.

“S’big,” you whisper, eyes widening.

And he hasn’t even pulled his cock out of his boxers.

He chuckles, “you flatter me, pretty.”

“N-No, really,” your pretty eyes meet his. “Is it gonna fit in my mouth?”

Holy fucking shit. 

He was thinking you were just going to give him a handjob and now you’re asking if he can fit in your mouth.

Megumi runs a hand through his hair, “fuck you drive me crazy.”

“I-I thought you wanted me to–”

“Baby. You can do whatever you want to me.”

Your eyes blow wide and you just about sparkle with anticipation, “then… can I suck your dick?”

Someone kill him and put him to rest because you’re about to be the death of him.

“Fuck yeah you can, baby.”

Megumi has to help you pull his cock from his boxers and your eyes just about bulge out of your head at the size of him. He’s long and thick and the tip is a pretty pink colour. It’s heavy too, almost too heavy to hold itself up.

He sits down on the bed and you get on your knees in front of him. He strips his hoodie off, his abs flexing as he leans back on his elbows, just watching you.

You bite your lip, suddenly intimidated.

“S’okay… just take it slow.”

You nod your head before your hand wraps around the base. Megumi suddenly groans and you pull away with a fright, “s-sorry!”

“No, no, baby–” he chuckles breathily. “Js’ a lot to take in having a pretty girl with her hands on my cock.”

You look away shyly and Megumi laughs, reaching out to cup your jaw, forcing you to look back at him. He sits up, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. You taste the remains of your orgasm on his tongue, pressing your thighs together as you feel yourself become a little aroused again.

He kisses you deeper, reaching his free hand out to cup your own, guiding you toward his hard neglected cock. “You can touch me, baby.”

Your hand wraps around the base and you squeeze softly, earning a groan from your pretty roommate. He guides your hand up and down and it’s painfully fucking slow but he’s just happy to have your hands on him.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs. “Doin’ so good.”

You beam at the praise, pressing your thumb against the leaky slit of his pretty cock head. Megumi groans, leaning back on his elbows and tipping his head back. You continue the motion, eyes gleaming with pride and innocence as you just watch him fuck your hand.

His hips jerk up, his cock pulsing in your hand.

You suddenly feel the urge to press your lips to his tip and when you do, Megumi nearly cums like a fucking teenager. 

“F-Fuck,” he grunts, his hand unintentionally pulling your hair, forcing out a pretty moan from your lips. 

You take the tip in your mouth, your tongue flattening against the head. You wonder if you’re doing it right but the way Megumi groans and his hand pushes your head further down his length, you think you’re doing a pretty good job.

“Such a good girl,” Megumi sighs, “feels s’good.”

You moan at the praise, taking a little more of his length down your throat. Your hands are squeezing his thighs, nails scraping against the taut skin and Megumi is doing everything in his power to not fuck his cock down your throat.

You start to drool, saliva slipping down your chin and coating his pretty cock. You suddenly gag on his cock, the tip hitting the back of your throat. 

“F-Fuck,” Megumi feels his cock twitch at the cute fucking sounds you’re making. Your eyes are glassy, and you’ve got drool dripping down your chin and your cheeks are flushed so pretty. “You’re gonna make me cum, baby.”

You pump the base of his cock, your tongue clumsily swirling around his tip, eyes glued to him as you watch for his reactions. Megumi suddenly sucks in a breath and pulls your mouth off his tip with a quiet pop! quickly pumping his cock.

Hot ropes of sticky cum spill across your lips and face, Megumi tipping his head back with a deep groan, squeezing the base of his cock as it twitches and jumps.

“Fuck– you sure you’ve never sucked dick before– Oh, fuck.”

Megumi’s eyes dilate at the sight of his cum painting your pretty little face, your fingers swiping at the ropes of cum before you push them into your mouth, tasting him. 

“I do good?”

Megumi laughs breathlessly, “you did so good, baby girl.”

Megumi is quick to clean you up, using an old shirt to wipe the cum off your face while you sit there all pretty on your knees in front of him. He presses kisses to your face and your hair before pulling you into bed beside him, his fingertips tracing over your shoulder as you lay your head on his chest.

“You mean what you said?”

“Hm?”

“You like me?” You ask sweetly, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him.

Megumi sits up a bit, “I like-like you.”

“Wow. That’s a big call, Fushiguro.”

Megumi chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “remember it’s Megumi.”

“Gumi?”

“I like that too.”

“Mm, Megs?”

“Don’t push it.”

You giggle softly, curling into his side with a wide smile.

Megumi takes you to work and campus every day after that night, his hand always in yours when he walks you to class and he likes to pretend it annoys him how you wrap your hand around his arm and how you squeal his name when you see him after class.

When in reality, Megumi couldn’t be happier. In a twisted way, he’s glad you asked him if he hated you, because he was able to summon the courage to tell you the truth.

That he didn’t hate you. Not even a little.

author's note: the way i been pulling all nighters for DAYS. i was about to kill these two I TELL YOU JUST MAKE OUT PLS I CANT–

taglist: @starpachinko @2ukika @sukunabish @somethinglikero @wannabewolf @milliex01x @princessa143 @hrithi11 @katsukita69 @slayzzz @arcanefeelings @shirabu-k @izzzzzzig @zah2890 @evergumi @aerareads @flashilyquinn @raedollsstuff @happylildeath @anormieee @l1v1ngzomb1e @kimkimoruo @sunnyf4lls @saekolust @kalulakunundrum @xastoriaaurax @feliaeae @sleepyxzn @mahazsine

[screampied]

can u pleasee do jjk mens fav positions ? or have u already done that

‘ CARTWHEEL ON THE D!CK ☆ ! ’

starring ꒱ geto, gojo, shiu, hiromi, choso, sukuna, toji ?!

@WARNINGS. fem! reader, praise, dirty talk, mentions of breeding, full nelson, missionary, (rev) + cowgirl, prone bone, size kinks, overstim, tummy bulge, face riding, impact play, shotgunning, squirting, till the bed breaks 18+

TOJI ✰ DOGGYSTYLE

“down, girl.”

with the pitch of his tone— that was how easy it was for him to have you arched over, bent over his wooden desk. your pussy was still sopping from earlier, needing a moment to get over your most recent teeth-shattering orgasm. toji prefers missionary too but he mainly loves doggystyle just so he could peer a few peeks at your ass. so cute, he smears his swollen tip against your saturated entrance before groaning. sloshes of cries die out from your folds as he’s ogling at how you’re so eager to swallow him up. leisurely, his fat, throbbing tip makes its way into you and he yanks the back of your tank top. “tojiiii, ‘s not gonna fit again,” you gasp, a broad free hand of his grabs a good chunk of your ass before spanking it. you moan from the sting, the pulse it gifts between your legs couldn’t have been any more embarrassing. “so f-fuckin’ big.”

“say that everytime ‘n ya still take it like a good slut,” he growls, feeling a hot sensation burn near the tips of his ears. you’re so feverish inside, he bites his lip before shoving you further against the desk. one single thrust and your life flashes before your eyes. his cock metaphorically splits the inside of your cunt open, having your lips pry apart and you hear that sinister snicker of his from behind you. “ugh. gotta be careful with you though. with a pussy this wet, might fall in love, heh.”

toji’s speed was always simply relentless—your chest would continuously thwack against the furniture, bump after bump occurring. it’s so loud, his dick pivots and reaches so deep, it rummages through every single orifice and you repeat your whines for him again and again.

“f-fuuuck, toji,” you’d babble out, the same words spewing out your lips on a constant never-ending loop like a mantra. full balls of his occasionally tap against you. with your legs parted, you’re all sprawled open for him. toji knew the layout of your pussy— he had to. with a sharp piston of his hips, his thrusts start to become more vigorous. you could barely match let alone keep up with his pace.

with doggystyle, toji was simply animalistic,

one of his favorite things to do was to wrap his thick fingers around your throat, putting his face up close to yours. “awww, babygirl. ‘s too deep? want me to go slower for you, baby? i can go slow for the pretty girl.”

he’s teasing you—pitching his voice in that faux caring tone, he drags his tongue against your neck and you whine, whimpering out a, “f-faster, fuck me faster, ‘toj.”

“well excuse me. then shut up ‘n take this dick,” and his words punctuate through every part of his dialogue. rough emphasis on his sentences—you gasp, feeling the crown of his cock prof against your g-spot. a scratch through your brain surges and you were already stupid. “take it like it’s yours,” he gruffs, his voice lowering a bit. your gummy walls squeeze against him tightly and it makes him suck his teeth. so soft, fleshy mounds of your ass gets grabbed by the rough hands of toji. throughout each spank he gives you, it rings in your ears like wedding bells. it only encourages you to fuck back against him quicker, making haste. “yeah, fuck me back. take this dick like ya own it.”

you’re hitting back and forth against him, feeling the way toji steadily pries open your pussy with the fat, plump head of his dick. he grunts, pushing your head back down into the sheeny polished desk until it’s smushed against the plethora of scattered papers. “t- toji, right there, right there please.”

“i know the fuck where,” he snarls, feeling his thin nostrils flare— it makes him a bit vexed with how easily your cunt takes him. swallowing him up, he can’t help but stare at how well you’re taking his mean backshots from behind. a big hand of his is still yanking onto the very back fabrics of your tank top before he quite literally tears it into two. “oop. my bad,” he snickers, hearing a cute gasp come out of you. he’s still balls deep before you whine.

“toji, my shirt !”

“yeah, what about it.”

you frown, he’s still deep into churning your guts before you speak with each moan butchering the delivery of your voice. “what do you mean what about it, that was a gift!”

“girl, chillax. i’ll get ya a new one.”

he doesn’t.

GOJO ✰ PRONE BONE.

“shh, you don’t gotta talk when you’re bent over for me, angel,” he’d hush you, and he brings a thumb near your puckering hole to daub the remnants of his sticky, glutinous cum back into you, preventing it from spilling back out again.

you whine, feeling every deep thrust he presents you. he’d just gotten done with filling you up to the brim—yet he doesn’t stop, he’s hungry for more. a hand goes over your mouth, a lustrous sheet of your own slobber paints the palm of his hand in response and he hums. gojo favors prone bone because he likes the closeness of your body against his.

it’s like doggystyle but better,

with your sundress lazily pulled up, he’s got better access and your tummy continually caves in. gojo’s so lengthy, you were still surprised he’d even manage to fit. it was a tight fit but he managed, plugging up your sweetened aperture. warm breathy pants fan against your skin and you whine, his hefty base repeatedly trouncing against your cunt. he was so up close to you, his weight pressing into you so deep that you’re at a loss of words. “s—satoru,” you whimper, feeling his tip stimulate against your most tender spots. each breath you had became more shaky, you were already pumped full of ropy, viscid amounts of his cum from before. your words were a bit muffled but he could still make out your adorable mewls. “so f-full.”

“well yeah. wouldn’t want ya to be empty,” he fake frowns, giving your ass an abrupt spank.

you bite back a moan by sucking your teeth, feeling his shaft reach even deeper angles. he’s got your pussy opening over and over, you’re drooling by this point, being met with slow yet deep hits. it’s primal for a few seconds once he pulls out - only to pull back in, then out again. you start to babble, hating whenever he did that.

gojo was a menace, he wanted to make you beg for more—you feel a fervor wash over you before your maw dangles open. the moment he pulls his dick out, he stares in awe at the thick volumes of cum exuding out of your flooded entrance. “oh, look at thaaaaat,” he sings lowly, staring at the mess painted between your thighs. he’s got the smuggest grin, watching such satiny ropes dribble down your slit. “my my, she’s just so pretty! look at how full she gets too, fuckin’ sloppy.”

“f-finish fucking me, ‘toru,” you pant in heavy breaths, already missing the fullness his dick supplied.

still, you’re over here arched over like some slut. a few cold whiffs of air wafts against your skin and you moan. you hear him sneer out a, ‘awww,’ before he brings his leaky tip back toward your swollen folds. it was so messy, unkempt and shimmering with his seed. gojo grows quiet, smearing his fat reddened tip against your pussy to hear the wet sloshes it creates. “pleaseeee, finish f-fuckin’ me.”

“say pretty please,” he coos, purposely sinking just the fattened tip inside before wresting it back out. he does it over and over, imagining your cute little pout displayed on your face from frustration.

you whine out a sweet, “p-pretty please?”

“pretty please what?” he whispers, strumming a thumb against your throbbing clit. he was edging you, your whines—despite them falling onto deaf ears, you whine again. gojo simpers, trailing a hand down your sensitive spine. “c’monnn. i have no idea what you’re saying please for, angel. you could be saying ‘pretty please can i finish?’ or ‘pretty please can i—”

“pretty please finish f-fucking m-” you grumble, although it sounds more like a desperate moan. even your words backfired on you, he found it so cute how you tried to maintain a rough exterior with your voice but end up failing miserably. you wanted him to finish so bad that you start to swiftly grind against him with your ass still raised up. he loves hearing you like that, so whiny and needy for more—yet once you were about to whine out another needy plea, you hear a sudden snap.

instantaneously, your initial reaction was to flinch and as you peek up—you spot the the wooden headboard snapping in half, the box spring shortly following to collapse. gojo’s still buried balls deep and he doesn’t even realize. only then does he start drilling his fat cock into you at a much quicker pace and you gasp, bawling the sheets into your hand. “s-satoru, fuck fuuuck.”

“oh damn the bed broke,” he sighs, barely acknowledging your moans—you’re so close to your release, feeling the sharp stabbing twist of his hips and he makes you fuck right back into him again and again. with a hand sneaking its way to tug at your hair, he leans up close to your ear before purring low. “hm. that sucks,” and as his hefty cock jackhammers into your loose cunt for the nth time today, he cheeses. “but uh, you’ll buy me- i mean us a new one right? riiiight?”

GETO ✰ REVERSE COWGIRL.

he loves whenever you ride him in reverse—your ass just throwing back against him, it drives him crazy.

with strong, ripped arms wrapped around your waist, a breathy pant leaves his lips and he‘s panting, his mind's racing and racing as he’s awaiting for your finish to peacefully come.

geto groans, you’re taking in every inch of his fat cock, you grow dumb quickly and your brain starts to spiral within seconds. “f-fuck, more. throw that ass back against me harder, wanna feel you.”

geto’s smooth words couldn’t have been any more seductive against your ear. big hands of his drag towards your tummy, his touch sending you shivers constantly before you moan. you’re jerking back against him with your mouth pried open, dilated irises glancing at your pathetic reflection of the mirror that stood in front of you both. “s-suguuu,” you moan, leaning back until your back presses against his bare chest. his warmth makes the butterflies in your tummy whir around at such a speed,

everything about your body was just enticing.

the way you just grip around him drove him wild. steadily holding his dick hostage with your saturated, gummy walls — it drives geto to the first street of erotic insanity. he’s haphazardly buried balls deep, the jaggy smacks that go up and down all due to your sweet hips makes him go mad. lengthy musses of black strands gets caught in his face and he gnaws on his bottom lip. a mucilaginous white ring that coats around his full base sticks against your skin the more your movements rises its tempo.

he’s panting right with you, hot puffy breaths of air leaving each lips, he wraps a hand around your throat before tenderly skimming his thumb down your passageway. making you almost twist your head to stare at him, he whispers, “easy. don’t cum on me yet, gorgeous. can ya wait jus’ a little to be messy for me?”

you frown a bit, pretty spit-glossed lips pursing together into a sweet pout before you whine once he reaches a pivotal certain spot. sage-colored boxers of his was lazily pulled down near his perfectly sculpted pelvic bone—even that was unintentionally sexy, all for a good fuck.

“but— but i can’ttt,” you whimper, feeling the familiar juddering sensation mash all into you.

“wait for me,” he whispers, a hand rubbing against your tummy. you pause your stuttering hips, leaning back into his touch. geto attacks the entirety of your neck with sugared kisses. he’s so tender, you gasp once he feels against the outline of his bulge. “mhm. you feel me here, don’t you pretty? ‘m so deep in you, fuck.”

your pussy’s voluntarily tightening before easing up and you let off soft mewl. “suguru, don’t stop,” and your plea was so sweet. he holds your hips firmly in place before pecking a honeyed kiss near your nape. with how lewd the angle was, you made sure your knees were planted forward as you slouched all the way back. he stuffed your walls so full despite how you brought your eager hips to a saddened halt. his girth wears you thin, you moan once he then brings two hands to squeeze against your tits. so handsy, a finger of his swipes against your perked nipple and you whine. “wanna finish riding you, sugu please.”

“my love, you’re going to. don’t be such a baby,” and that’s only once he turns you around—you inhale a single breath, meeting his pretty face and he pulls you into a deep kiss. geto’s kisses always tasted to candied, so honeyed with nothing but love and affection.

“oh, but i love you,” he says between kisses, leaving your face with multiple targets. he watches your expression turn shy, even leaning in to kiss the soft bridge of your nose. “mwah,” he concludes in a weary breath, holding onto your hips again. you hover over his tip and he grunts, knowing you wanted to ride him again. “always know how to- make me fall more ‘n more in love with you. messy girl,” and a dimple pokes against his cheek once he lies back. “my good messy girl.”

SHIU ✰ COWGIRL.

“ah ah, let me finish my cigarette first,” shiu would hum in a soft low tone, watching you hover over his exposed tip.

he was shirtless—dark cerulean blue boxers pulled all the way down by you and a lit cig sticks out from the left part of his mouth. he shoots you a sly smile, watching the pout on your lips grow as you didn’t wanna wait for him. you needed him carnally, he flashes you a similar coy grin before wrapping an arm around you. “fine. you never listen. i spoil ya too bad, sweets.”

“shiu, want more,” you’d whisper, and he groans once he feels you align himself against your needy hole. you felt the head of his cock scrape against your entrance—a few spurts of pre-cum coat against your folds so slickly. a hitched breath gets caught in his throat before he leans back, manspread. “wanna smoke with you.”

“hm,” he hums in a more form of a question. he’s got quite the length to him. he grunts, feeling the squelches your cunt makes in retaliation. the entire scenery of it all was so crude, he’s amused. with that cute expression of yours, he wants to buy you anything in the world. shiu rubs a hand down your back, easing you to take him fully before you moan at the stretch. “you wanna smoke too, darlin’? ‘s that what y’er tellin’ me?”

“y-yes,” you whimper in a cute plea, rocking your hips once he’s all the way in. he fit perfectly—nice and snug like a key fits a lock.

shiu had such dangerous girth to him too, your mouth desperately opens as you feel every inch. you even feel a slight upward curve he had, something as small as that made you throb—even the vein that runs down the center of his dick, you felt the twitch inside of you. he raises a brow, hazy eyes focusing on your every move. your moves were always so slow it was simply hypnotic. leaning up close, you press a wet kiss near the corner of his mouth. “kiss me.”

“now you’re just gettin’ greedy, baby,” he purrs, inhaling a single puff of hot smoke again. you watch with dilated hearty eyed pupils, and he cups your chin. “very well, open that mouth f’me.”

glossy lips of yours part, he pulls you in for a sultry wet kiss but before he does that, he blows the smoke that was in his mouth right into yours. you whine, bottom lip quivering as it pours right in so easily. the taste was smoky, despite it being literal air, you could still taste it.

shiu’s got half-lidded eyes staring at you, a smirk curling on his lips before he finally gives you that kiss you direly craved. it was deep, you’re still slowly hurtling your hips before he brings two hands to fondle with your neglected breasts. you mewl into his mouth, tasting the lingering flavor of smoke and a dash of mint. his tongue curls against yours, flicking his cigarette away onto the ash tray before pulling you closer. he tastes so intoxicating, a hand squeezes your ass firmly before he groans—you being jittery against his hips has his head spinning.

“s-shit,” shiu phews, globules of sweat racing down the sides of his face. with an almost flustered, out of breath look, he speaks in a soft tone. “you .. you want more, don’t ya sweets? guess y’er not finished with me after all, huh?”

“lie back, shiu,” you breathe in short breaths, softly pressing the clammy palms of your hands onto his bare chest. bristles of curled chest hair prick against your skin before he leans further back, slyly smiling at your sudden dominance. he watches as you pick up his thin cig, sticking it between your own teeth as your hips roll against him in mirroring unison.

“yes ma’am,” he smiles, a hand gripping onto your ass before giving it another spank. “do whatever ya want to me, sweets. ‘m all yours.”

SUKUNA ✰ FULL NELSON.

with full nelson—more than anything, sukuna likes to leave his favorite girl feeling stretched.

so stretched to where you can feel him reach the very deep pits of your cunt. he leaves you with ropes of his cum oozing out of you, he can’t help it — especially with a size he has. a thick shaft with staggering inches, every time he pumps another load into you, you’re drooling for more.

“oh, you’re so weak today,” he huffs out in a single breath, watching your lifeless body just dangle against his lap.

your legs were held above your head and within minutes, pretty eyes of yours were on the verge of rolling way back toward depths of your skull to see only splotches of pure black. you’re a whiny mess, barely able to synchronize with his rigorous pace. his front forearms has your legs in place, another is strumming the calloused tips of his fingers against your jittery hips. he’s so deep that you can feel the bulge of his dick extend through your tummy. a hand of his grabs your chin, pulling down on your bottom lip. “my, i’ve got such a such a sloppy girl,” he points out, brushing a thumb against your lips that was glistening with sweet spit. “with an even sloppier pussy.” and a hand of his reaches down to spank against your folds. you whine, feeling your entire body heat up from something as simple from his notorious touch.

“su— sukunaaaa,” you’d whine, basically being treated like a rag doll. a perfect way to capture your physical essence. just being thrown around, he punctures everywhere inside of your goopy walls, making his cock get known between your heat. your moans only grow louder until he shoves two fingers into your mouth. fluttering lashes lower before you happily suck on his fingers, swirling your tongue against his digits and he cackles. “mphmmm.”

“good girl, suck on them. use that little mouth for somethin’ more important,” and with each bounce of your hips, your brows furrow in pleasure. a jumbled of nerves that rest inside your stomach continues to build up—you know that particular feeling approaching and it was pure bliss. a brief twinge of a sting resides near your entrance as he hits against a spot that leaves your eyes widening. he found your secluded g-spot. a hand of yours squeezes onto the curses’s thigh and he hums in amusement. “oh, i found that little spot didn’t i, pretty?” and his pace quickens ever so slightly, hefty dick slamming into you time and time again. “this— pathetic spot . . riiiiight fuckin’ here?”

his breath was hot, all up against the soft lobe of your ear. with his deep voice alone, you’d cream all over his cock without any sorts of shame. jocularly, sukuna seeps his fangs into your neck, a low guffaw following from the back of his throat. you sucked on his fingers until you gag as response. you then pout as he pulls them out, stringy webs of saliva following his two digits.

“i-i’m gonna cu—” and your words get interrupted by the goading prod of his cock thrashing against that same spot. your mouth grows ajar and a sweet raw moan exits from your lips. you’re so at disbelief that you end up gushing all on his lap yet he doesn’t even notice you squirted until you look down.

“hmph,” sukuna scoffs, one of his arms reaching down between your legs. he smears his stubby thumb against your entrance, feeling how doused it was with your slick arousal. taking you out of the flexing minacious position, he turns you to face him now. prodding a thumb between your now swollen folds, he delves a finger inside before pulling it out, only to pop the same finger into his mouth. you watch, tremulous breaths leaving your mouth and he smugly smiles, taking pride in your embarrassed state.

“how sweet,” and as he laps up the mess on his fingers on his own tongue, he grabs your chin again, pulling you into a kiss. you whine, returning the gesture almost immediately. you’re needy still, grinding against the king’s lap—his dick that was laid against him flat, so thick and even more full. he snickers between the kisses, holding you close and you taste yourself on his mouth. after a while, he departs away before grumbling. “off. you made a mess on me, woman,” and he crosses his arms, a pout on his lips. “don’t just sit there. clean it off with your tongue, i’ll wait.”

HIGURUMA ✰ FACE RIDING

“a-ah,” he lets off a soft sigh, bringing a few kisses towards your inner thighs. you bring up you want to ride his nose and after that moment, it easily becomes his favorite position. he’s gentle, making sure to attack near the very sweet crevices with his lips. with an amused, jocular raise of a brow, he runs a thumb down your sopping wet slit. “aw, you wanna ride it, dontcha? you’ve been starin’ at my nose all day, sugar.”

with a twitch of your lips, you shift your weight that’s barely hovering over his mouth. “yes,” and hiromi’s got nothing more than tender smile— he knew what you wanted, ride his face but most importantly, ride his nose. “i just— i don’t wanna suffocate you with my thighs though, ‘romi. want you to be able to breathe.”

he ambushes your folds with a multitude of kisses before a sly grin forms against his pink sheeny lips. “you won’t do such a thing,” he reassures you, and you whine once he creates a single licking stripe near your entrance. “there there, just lay it on me, sweetheart,” and his voice couldn’t have been any more soothing— it’s alluring, each syllable that drags out of his mouth has you pulsing continuously. dark irises stare into you before he blows softly against your cunt. “give it to me, sit on my face ‘n enjoy the ride. i got ya.”

higuruma’s all laid back comfortably against the bed—he’s ready to feast, the moment you finally sink your quavering weight down onto him, his tongue makes a quick greeting. you bite your lip, the cold texture residing on his tongue makes you squirm a bit. “f-fuuuck, hiromi,” you whine, peering your eyes down and his hooded lids were already growing low and heavy. two rough hands of his grasp tightly against your ass, occasionally brushing his thumbs against your warm skin. his movements were slow but precise—he makes sure to allow his tongue to rummage all throughout your pussy. just a single taste and he’s already craving for more.

you’re addictive,

as you’re still trying to flutter your hips over his mouth but he only pulls you further down. you moan, feeling the slickness of your cunt rub against his nose. it slides against the bumpy bridge of it and he groans. with rough pants, he breaks away every few seconds to give you a praise or two, “thaaaat’s it, ride it jus’ like that, sugar.”

he had to multitask from breathing through his mouth and nose—you had him going feral, his tongue knew no bounds. it swirls all through your entrance before he starts to suck against the pulsating nub of your clit. that particular spot does something to your brain. higuruma studies your moments—every jolt your thighs does he watches, how sensitive, how needy you were. all from a few licks, the feeling of his nose prodding against your cunt was a soft gnarled texture. it tickles a bit at first before you’re left with moaning repeatedly. “hngh, so good, ‘romi. don’t stop p-please.”

he shoots you a sneer, a thumb of his snaking towards your clit to play with it also. the nerves you felt in every part of your clit makes you stupid. perspiring hands crawl into his hair, getting a good grip of his strands being lightly tugging on it. “m-mphm,” he likes that. whenever you’d give his hair just the slightest pull, it drives him crazy. you resume to grind your hips into his mouth, slowly. your rhythm despite how it wasn’t as fast as he initially wanted has him hard. higuruma feels the strain in his black work slacks the more your sweet whimpers reverberate across the entire room. the walls were quite thinx yet he could care less. if anything, the only thing that mattered between was your preciously candied pussy. his favorite treat—a dish he’d continue to ask for seconds.

strands of his hair tangle within your fingers, the vigorous buckling of your hips barely have hi time to process. he’s so sloppy, the slight curve of his tongue explores all inside the entrance of your saturated entrance and a whine dies out your throat. “m-mh, more ‘romi. your tongue’s so good,” and your voice remains to shake—you were sensitive, not before long the entire middle part of his face was covered with a sheet of your arousal. so soaked—you couldn’t help but drench him a bit, his stubble becomes glistening in your heat and he moans. you taste sweet, with low eyes he makes eye contact with you for a moment and the butterflies that reside inside your tummy makes you pulse. he feels the pulse in his mouth, stimulating every part with the tip of his tongue. he lays it flat, allowing it to ferret everywhere before he reaches there.

that sweetened g-spot—the moment his tongue shows itself towards your most precious slick orifice, he leaves it a few sweet kisses. mwah after mwah, long black lashes close as he shows your spot the utmost signs of affection. after all, he wanted to make sure he tasted all of you.

CHOSO ✰ MISSIONARY.

“don’t hide, please,” choso whispers, rutting between you. two big hands of his strokes your cheek, making sure you return his beatific gaze. dark gentle pools of eyes intake your alluring beauty before he moans into your neck. “you’re so w-warm. i love you, love makin’ you feel good.”

“i love you too,” you breathe, moaning quite a bit yourself. your voice was sweet, laced with some kind of addictive sound that makes his ears twitch whenever you speak. choso loves missionary because of how intimate it is. skin to skin, body to body—he loves the hot warmth your own body provides him every time. he’s way more vocal than you, he can’t help but suck against your skin as he’s stuffing you full of guiltless inches. “fuck,” you’d wheeze, rubbing the back of your ankle down his back. you feel him shiver at that, his face turns flustered before he reaches to hold your hand. in bed, choso was always a needy baby. he desperately wanted your touch, without it he felt like he’d die. perhaps he was a bit of a drama queen whenever it came to affection, but he was your drama queen. “choso, don’t stop your moans, baby.”

he grows quiet once you notice. the main reason he went to suck against your tender neck was to stop his whimpering whines.

he was always so embarrassed about them—so insecure.

he was forever so sensitive, the way you clamp down on him makes his breath nearly get caught in his throat. “but-” and you shyly smile, squeezing his hand tighter as his hips quicken. he’s about to finish early—you were quite familiar with his timid body language. it always gave him away. you pull him in for a quick chaste kiss, crimson lips of his mashing against yours and he pouts. once you pull away, he wants more. choso leans for a kiss and you kiss back, kiss after kiss. he feels the tip of his cock reach all sorts of mew depths within your walls. he’s clouded, feeling a rushing wave of crazed nirvana over take him sweetly. “i’m too noisy.”

“i like when you’re noisy,” you reassure him, and you visibly watch him melt into your hands. he’s so cute—you’ve got his heart throbbing, you’re so tender and patient with him that he’s falling more and more in love. choso’s tempo slows down a bit and he feels a concise spasm in the undersides of his thighs. he moans at your tenderized compliment, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

he’s still holding onto your hand, stubby fingertips sliding against yours. his touch—a perfect way to describe it was that it was hot, parching. you made him feel hot in every way and he never wanted the feeling to stop. “you can be a little louder, ‘cho. ‘s just you ‘n me.”

“you s-sure?” he whines, mending your cunt with a new shape from his jagged thrusts. he was so big, you had to constantly gnaw on your lip to conceal your own indecent noises. with a low voice, he still sounds as sweet as a kitten—his darkened brows twitch, awaiting for your answer whilst he prepares to gift your pussy with another precious gift of cum.

you have a soft smile. “i’m sure, baby,” and with a smeck, you kiss the pale temple of his cheek. choso’s heart was racing miles a minute. the moment he ends up finishing, he doesn’t hide his moans.

this time, he ends up giving you a deep kiss while his orgasm mercilessly pulls out of him. it leaves him breathless, tumefy lips of his gets swollen from each contact your own lips makes with his. he was always weak for your kisses, he’d go crazy without one.

“good boy,” you whisper, feeling his seed trickle all inside of you. hot sticky ropes, your legs snake around his slim waist, forevermore pulling him in. “let’s stay like this forever.”

“we- we will,” he mewls out, a gasp of exhaustion snatching out of him, he’s just on top of you, resting his head against your chest — still inside of you, plugging you in fully. choso’s voice was a bit raspy, strands of his hair tickle against your skin before he kisses your breasts. “i’ll never leave you. we’ll be together f-forever, princess.”

[joelsdagger]

that’s the way road dogs do it || one

joel miller x f!reader

a/n: this one is a little wild; part two is already shaping up to be even more wild. many smooches to my beloveds: @pedrospatch for all the reassurance and support and for beta’ing this bad boy for me, and to @dinandwhiskey for screaming with me about this idea many many moons ago <33

pairing: ex-boyfriend’s dad!joel x f!reader summary: on a night out with friends, you run into someone from your past. warnings: [no-outbreak au], big girthy age gap [reader is in her 20’s, joel is 50’s], alcohol consumption, allusions to cheating [not by joel or reader], no sarah or ellie but joel has a son, joel has tattoos and is a biker, pet names [darlin’, baby, kiddo], sexualization of the term kiddo [from the deepest darkest pits of my soul…idfc], a little bit of humiliation, panty sniffing, a teensy bit of fingering, a little manhandling, pervy!joel [he’s also a little fucked up and really unhinged but so am i so whateva], pussy pronouns, dirty talk [umm it gets weird lol], daddy kink, degradation, semi-public sex, rough unprotected p in v sex, mirror sex, hair pulling, dubcon [joel takes pictures of her that she doesn’t verbally consent to], smidgen of angst [ofc bc it’s me], creampie, body marking/writing [use of a pen], soft!joel, reader wears a skirt, has hair, wears makeup, and has two tattoos that are described within the story word count: 8.6k

masterlist || ao3 || follow @joelsdaggerupdates for fic updates!

Bad Habits is the bar where you spend every Friday night after work with your friends. It’s always too loud and too bright for your liking. But they serve good booze for a reasonable price and it’s on the way back from your office. Your Friday night usual; stopping at the bar with some friends from work before you bore yourself to sleep by looking over briefings and finalizing notes you need to send over to your boss in time for Monday’s nine am meeting.

You excuse yourself from the booth and head for the bar, plopping yourself on the velvet cushion of a creaky bar stool as you set your purse on the sticky bartop, ordering yourself another drink. Your phone chimes, and you sigh as you pull it out of your purse along with a pen and notepad, knowing it’s an email with a list of requests from your boss. He did tell you he’d send it to you before the end of the night. 

It’s when one of your hands is pressed to your temple, the other scribbling down your boss’ requests on paper when you hear it — a low, gravelly Southern drawl, a voice laced with honey — that you thought you’d never hear again. 

“This seat taken?”

Your pen freezes for a moment; you could pick that voice out of a suspect line-up. It never left you. But you willingly ignore him and decide you’re going to have a little fun of your own with him, so you continue finalizing your thoughts on paper as he situates himself beside you and orders a glass of whiskey while he’s at it. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ sittin’ in a place like this all by herself?” 

“I’m not alone. My friends are over there,” you throw your thumb, pen in hand, over your shoulder, jutting to your booth. “Just needed another drink,” you say, your eyes never leaving the notepad. 

“Why won’t you let me see your face, darlin?” he asks, head tilting to the side, assessing you. 

You snort. “Why. So you can decide whether or not my face is pretty enough to fuck — Mr. Miller?” Your voice drops an octave at the end of the sentence. 

You finally turn your head so you’re face to face with the man beside you, the father of your ex-boyfriend. 

Surprise flashes across his face; his mouth hangs agape briefly before he shuts it tightly. You watch as the Adam’s apple bops slowly in his throat. For once, the father of your shit-eating, cheating ex-boyfriend doesn’t have a comeback. He clears his throat as he attempts to recover. 

“Didn’t realize it was you, darlin’,” he says gruffly, a hand coming up to scratch his beard. 

You chuckle to yourself a little. “Of course you didn’t. The last time we saw each other was what? A year ago? Maybe more?” you quip. 

“You look different,” he says matter-of-factly, eyes glossing over your figure so quick you almost miss it. 

You raise an eyebrow at him; the corner of your mouth kicks up as you tilt the rim of your glass to your lips, hiding your smirk behind a sip.

“Good. I mean — you look good,” he tips his glass on its heel, eyeing it as he toys with it. 

You tilt your head in a shrug, “I needed a change.”

After Joel Miller’s son cheated on you and broke your heart, after you let the hurt linger for a few weeks and told your sob story to your friends who happily listened, you took their advice. 

You need something new, something fresh, babe. 

It really does help.

You’ll feel like a whole new person. 

Trust me, it’ll be good for you. 

You dyed your hair a few times, until you found a shade that felt more you. You got yourself a whole new wardrobe, something a little less fucking prudish and a little more slutty, and despite the cliché of it all, their suggestions did help to leave that shy, agreeable girl in the dust. The breakup was the last push you needed to leave it all behind. 

And now here you are, a little over a year later, sitting beside your ex’s father, whom you once hated to admit to yourself — no, you never really admitted it to yourself, but you found him attractive. Fuck. Who were you kidding? You didn’t just find Joel Miller, the father of your ex-boyfriend, attractive; you found yourself wanting to open your legs for him more than you did for his son, whom you had been dating for eight months. 

His eyes fall to your chest, trailing down the low cut of your top, and fixating on the peaks of your nipples beneath the tight fabric, and your heart stutters. “Quite the change,” a hint of a glint swimming in his hazel eyes. 

You can’t say the same for him.

You take him in now; he looks almost exactly the same, apart from a few more wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes. Still, he’s somehow more handsome. 

His tousled salt-and-pepper hair still sits messily on his head, though his beard is lined with more silver than you remember. 

Fuck. 

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes trail down his body, thick shoulders and thick arms deliciously clad in his black leather jacket, and beneath that, his white t-shirt pulls taut across his broad chest.  

 And oh. 

Joel’s head turns, peering over his shoulder at the sound of glass breaking. Your eyes flick back up and catch a curl of black ink on the tanned skin beneath his collar. That’s new. 

When he turns back, he raises the glass to his lips with a scoff, clouding the inside of it, and the dim light from above the bar catches on the square face of a gold band on his marked pinkie finger. That’s also new. Your eyes don’t miss that his fourth finger still remains devoid of a wedding ring. 

“I have your son to thank for that." You drop your phone, pen, and notepad into your purse, giving him your full attention.

A muscle in Joel’s jaw ticks. Flicks his tongue across his bottom lip before he bites it. Is it a show of anger? Disappointment? You’re not quite sure.

But there is one thing that you are sure of: Joel Miller liked having you around. You knew it. You were aware that his eyes lingered whenever he saw you. You caught it from the very first time. When you showed up at his house, in jeans that clung to you like skin, how you bent at the waist to fish your keys out of his sofa cushion, and in your periphery, caught the subtle tilt of his head to get a better look at how the denim hugged your ass just right, feeling his eyes boring into you, your skin sizzling with heat.

If you’re being honest, you didn’t care. You didn’t feel guilty or shameful for how Joel looked at you. You basked in how he made you feel; you certainly weren’t getting that kind of attention from his son. He had his eyes (and his dick) on someone else. 

You liked how that very last night you spent at Joel Miller’s house — a fortnight before you broke up with his son — you padded down the hallway to the bathroom in an old skirt that you had outgrown (wearing it only because it was the last of clean bottoms before laundry day), and you overheard Joel Miller in his bedroom, fucking his fist and coming with a gruff groan of your name on his lips.  

You just weren’t sure if he knew that you knew.  

His body twists, props a leg up on the footrest of your bar stool. “What happened between you two? He never talked about it,” he inquires. 

You scoff. “He gets that from you, you know, not talking about things. Think he knows it too.” 

Confusion floods his features. 

Your eyes drop to the inside of your glass. “Your divorce. Jason complained all the time about how neither of you talked about it.”

“There was nothin’ to talk about. She left,” he quips. 

“She cheated on you,” you retort. 

“How did–” 

“He knew, and he watched when you didn’t fight it. Think that’s why he did the same to me.” 

“That kid. Always fucking trouble,” he huffs, then takes a short sip. 

 “Hey, you raised him,” you joke. 

“I didn’t raise him to be a piece of shit,” he bites, shakes his head instantly, eyes meeting yours, and there’s something behind them that you can’t quite place yet.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, I just—" You sigh exasperatedly, “I think seeing how you didn’t fight for your marriage, for your wife, messed with him. And as much as I hate him for getting his dick wet in another girl, I think... well, now I know why he did it." Right shoulder tips in a slight shrug. 

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. 

“What?” you ask. 

 “Nothin'—I didn’t expect I’d ever hear you say that.”

 You look at him pointedly. 

 “Gettin’ his dick wet,” he repeats. “I’m not used to hearing you say things like that s’all,” he says with a breathless laugh, shaking his head a little. 

You sigh. “Told you, heartbreak is a hell of a thing.” 

“You didn’t deserve that darlin’, M’sorry,” he soothes. He leans towards you, a heavy hand dropping to your bare thigh, fingers wrapping tightly around it. It takes everything in you not to squeeze your thighs shut at his touch. 

You avert your eyes, scanning the crowd in the bar, your eyes eventually landing on your friends all crammed in the booth before looking back at Joel. “Everything happens for a reason, I guess.” 

His head dips, eyebrows go up in surprise, his expression a slight mixture of shock and guilt. “You really believe that?” 

You flash him a soft smile. You’re not sure that you do, but selfishly, it’s easier than the truth, and whatever it was, you’re not concerned about it anymore. “It’s fine, Mr. Miller, honestly," you clarify. 

His calloused thumb rubs small circles on your thigh; heat radiates there. “How many times, I gotta tell you, it’s Joel,” he insists.

Your eyes roll, “alright. Joel, it’s fine. I’m much happier now.”

“Oh yeah?" His hand releases your thigh; your body feels like it’ll wilt without the heat of his touch. His arms cross over as he leans forward on the bartop. The cuff of his left sleeve raises, revealing ink curling around his wrist. Did he complete his sleeve? You swallow thickly, your eyes lingering. 

"Got yourself a new boyfriend?’” He asks. 

You finally peel your eyes away, arching your brow. “What makes you say that?” 

His boot brushes against your bare ankle as he turns towards you; electricity sparks up your leg and up the base of your spine, awakening a long-dormant need. “Nothin’, just reckon that a pretty thing like yourself has a new stupid college fella.”

You chuckle. “I don’t date, it's not worth my time anymore.” You take a swig of your drink, swallow the tang down, and it mixes with the lick of heat, slowly spreading its way into your veins. You’re trying to tame the surge of energy zipping through your body, but it’s so damn hot beneath the lights lining the bar. And the chatter buzzing around the room, coupled with the weight of Joel’s gaze, isn’t fucking helping. It’s overwhelming, the nerves and arousal taking over, lacing with the alcohol in your system.

“That so?” His voice is a low rumble, dangerous. The corners of his lips twitch; your eyes dart down to them. 

You set your glass down on the dark wood with a clink, and your fingers begin tracing the rim of the glass. “And you?” Your body is warm and humming, something churning deep in your core.

His hazel eyes slowly rake down your body, a hint of hunger in them as they pause at the hem of your skirt, barely covering the place where you need him most; your skin is on fire under the heat of his gaze, and for a moment you have to resist the urge not to pounce on him right there in a bar full of people.

His voice cuts through your reverie as he answers. “Not in the cards for me, darlin’,” his eyes crease before he tips the glass to his lips.

“Guess we got one thing in common,” you sigh and mirror him. 

His eyes never leave yours as he takes a sip, and your chest blooms. Black takes up the hazel hues in his eyes, full of lust, and you think back to all the times you’ve had his attention; only now it’s worse because you can act on it. And maybe it’s the liquid courage in your blood. Maybe it’s some stroke of desire for revenge. Maybe it’s just that — desire. Maybe it’s because you know him. Know by all those times you racked up in your brain of longing stares and fleeting tugs of every nerve of your body.

So you think, with the very obvious throbbing in your core, with desire turning molten and pooling between your thighs that you can no longer ignore, that now is your chance; you’ve got nothing holding either of you back this time.

“You want to get out of here?” Your eyes fall down his body and bite your lip as you take in his broad form again. 

He chuckles darkly. “Can’t leave my crew, sweetheart,” he juts his chin towards an area behind you. Your body twists, and laughter threatens to bubble in your chest when you spot them. Three men, all silver-haired and scruffy beards that cover surly faces, all clad in tethered leather jackets, sit in a corner towards the back of the bar. 

You turn back to Joel with a hint of smirk on your lips. “Aren’t you getting a little old to still be biking around? Shouldn't fossils be encased or padded up or something? You know as they age they don't hold up very well,” you tease. 

He bares his teeth with a crooked grin; the corners of his eyes crease. “Careful, kiddo,” voice a low warning, but there’s a hint of playfulness behind it.

You knock back the rest of your drink swiftly, ignoring how it burns the back of your throat. “Well, that’s too bad,” you start. Driven by the alcohol coursing through your burning veins and the painful ache at the apex of your thighs, your left hand grabs his, rested beneath the bar, and guides it under your skirt and towards your dripping sex. He stiffens, inhaling sharply through his nose as he feels the way the wet fabric clings to the lips of your pussy. You bring your lips to the shell of his ear and drop your voice to make it more deep and velvety — more enticing. “She’s already wet.”

You drop his hand and hop off the barstool and onto wobbly legs, your right hand looping your crossbody over your shoulder, and before your leg even brushes past his, his hand snaps out and wraps around your wrist, dwarfing it in his grasp. 

Without another word, he tugs you behind him, past your table of friends, all too loud and too drunk celebrating the end of another work week to notice the two of you sauntering by. He drags you down the dimly lit hall, and you’re biting your bottom lip, containing the smile that threatens to spread across your face as he shoves you into the bathroom. 

Within seconds, he’s on you, pressing into you so your back slams into the tethered wooden door. Your hands find his hair, tangling your fingers in the strands streaked with gray.

And with his mouth flush with yours, the taste of whiskey and cheap cigars is warm on your tastebuds, and you cannot get enough of it. You've dreamt of what he'd taste like for so long, and it's everything you've ever wanted. His tongue is heavy and hot as he pushes it into your mouth, swirling it around and cutting across your gums, leaving no inch of your mouth uncharted. It’s all rushed and sloppy and hungry, and very quickly does it become clear to you that he’s wanted this — wanted you, just as much as you had from the very beginning. 

Somewhere in the heady haze, you manage to remove your left hand from his dark curls, drifting it south behind your back to slide the greasy lock shut behind you, sealing your fate. 

The sound of the lock clicking in place has Joel maneuvering you towards the sink, your heels scraping against the tile as the both of you drift backwards, tongues still intertwined. 

Your hands fumble with his belt, and at the same time, your mouth skates down his neck, tongue darting out and lapping at the inked skin there. You hum at the taste of warm, salty sweat. As you try to drag the leather out from his silver buckle, you move to drop to your knees. You don’t even get halfway before he’s reaching for your wrists, pulling you back up to stand. “‘S much as I’d like that kiddo, I've been waitin’ too long to get inside this cunt,” he says bluntly, and then he’s taking a step forward, trapping you against the cold ceramic. “If m’gonna come, s'gonna be inside o' her.” 

Your stomach flips at his words, and you can’t deny that the use of that word again makes you want to drop to your knees for him twofold. Instead, Joel drops to one of his, grunting as his denim-clad knee hits the cold tile, and it’s what he does next that manages to shatter all essence of confidence you had tonight.

Joel flicks up your skirt with one large hand while the other grips the back of one of your thighs, and one of your hands finds one of his shoulders, fingers already clinging onto him for dear life as you try to anchor yourself. You’re throbbing for him as his hand drifts north to cup your sex through your damp panties; he tears his gaze away to peer up at you. “How many dicks has this pussy taken since my son?” 

His words strike you hard, and your blood runs as cold as ice. Your breath kicks out of your lungs. That was the last thing you expected him to say. Despite the fact Joel’s eyes often lingered and his breath often wavered in your presence, he always managed to compose himself. You never imagined he'd act on those impulses.

“I–I don’t–” you blink a few times, your brain malfunctioning, trying to find the words. 

“How many,” he taunts, his fingers prod at your lace-covered slit, his thumb applying pressure to your clit through your underwear. 

“I– I don’t know. I can’t remember,” you whisper.

Joel sniggers. “I figured. She’s just a little pocket pussy for us, ain’t she?” A shiver runs up your spine, and he watches you, hazel eyes glimmering in the soft yellow glow of the bathroom, gauging your reaction for a tell, a tick, something, that’ll give him a reason to stop. When you don’t, his head dips down between your thighs, and his strong nose presses up against the damp stain on the front of your skimpy black thong, which was doing a rather poor job of covering your cunt. His eyes close slowly, and he inhales. Long and hard, so hard you can feel his nostrils contracting against you as he breathes in your scent. And it’s not your fault a measly whimper spills from your lips when he does so. 

“This all for me now?” He coaxes, his fingers strumming up and down your slit through the lace. Words fail you as you look down and find his eyes already on yours. You nod once for him. 

“Words, darlin’,” his voice dark, thick fingers shifting your panties aside, exposing you to the cold air and spreading your soft folds apart, toying with your wetness. 

Oh fuck, sneaks past your lips in a whisper, and one of your arms snaps out behind you, hand wrapping around the edge of the sink.  

He tilts his head up, and your eyes fixate on his middle finger that reads, clutch, as the tip pokes into your aching hole. "S’this what you wanted? You oughta ask for it, pretty girl.”

“I want you. Fuck– I want you to fuck me, Joel.” You choke out. 

“Attagirl,” he starts, knees cracking as he stands. “Bend over ‘n let me see her up close this time,” he says with a smirk. 

You obey, and turn to drop your purse beside the sink before placing your hands on the wet countertop. But your eyes don’t find your own reflection in the mirror. Instead, they fall on Joel’s movements behind you and gulp down the near-pathetic excitement and nerves sizzling over you. Joel’s too entranced by the sight before him to pick up how your breath hitches in your throat when his calloused hands push your skirt over the curve of your ass and up to your waist. His sly smirk kicks into a low chuckle as he catches sight of your tattoo on your left ass cheek that reads, daddy’s girl.

You go perfectly still, and a firm hand between your shoulders pushes you forward, your upper body now parallel to the dark countertop. Your heartbeat thrums loudly in your ears, but you can still hear the low whistle he sings from behind you. And then–

“Jesus,” he breathes as he pauses and marvels at you, his gaze shifting up and down your form, goosebumps erupting across your skin as the knuckle of his index finger traces down the small of your back, cold metal from the ring on his pinkie grazes the meat of your ass by happenstance. “Pretty little thing, ain’t ya?” 

And it’s almost like he can’t believe he’s here — with you, thirty years his junior, and his son’s ex-girlfriend, in a bar bathroom, about to ruin not only you but every other woman for himself for the rest of his life.

The liquid courage must’ve kicked into overdrive because you don’t know what compels you to do it, but before you can stop yourself, you call out his name–

“Joel.”

His dark eyes flit upwards to meet yours in the mirror. 

“You gonna stand there and stare all night, or you gonna fill her up?” But the tone of your voice doesn’t make it sound at all like a question, and you don’t mean it to be. 

That seems to pull him back. He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ Christ, I didn’t think you’d be this filthy.”

His reaction manages to bring back your confidence, and your lips curl in turn. 

Joel doesn’t waste anymore time. You feel the rough drag of denim against the back of your thighs and hear the metallic clang of his belt and the buzz of his zipper as he frees himself from the confines of his jeans. When he hooks a thick finger underneath your panties, tugging them to the side and over one cheek, you can’t help but clench, and Joel definitely doesn’t miss it. 

He tuts. “Needy little thing too,” he grips his length, thick and heavy in his hand, and lines up the blunt cockhead with your throbbing hole; it winks at him. “Tiny hole’s begging for me to fuck her, ain’t she? Look at her flirtin’ with me,” Joel gloats. 

And the sane part of you wants to cringe at that, but your cunt betrays you and clenches around terrible emptiness again. Joel doesn’t wait for you to respond; his eyes flicker back down to your hole, pushing the wide head of his cock inside, and that spark from earlier ignites. 

“Oh, Christ,” he exhales, his jaw falling loose and eyes going hooded as he enters your warm, wet cunt. You gasp as your own eyes fall shut at the stretch, your face twisting upwards at the sharp sting. You didn’t get to look at it before, but you can feel him. He’s big. Bigger than anything you’ve ever had, and for a second you’re not quite sure he’ll be able to fit. But Joel being Joel means he’s a stubborn bastard. He makes it fit. He pushes himself in, in, in, and you whine, and he groans as your pussy wraps perfectly around every inch of his thick length, sinking in like a dream.

He bottoms out inside your cunt, his tip kissing your cervix, and you’re gripping the edge of the sink so tight that if it weren’t for Joel fucking you, you’d be worried if your knuckles would break the skin. “Fuck, that’s good,” he breathes, ragged and hard. 

And it is. He feels so good. Stretching your cunt out and carving a place for himself after all this time. All the wanting and pining. Shared glances and stolen moments that you believed to be over the moment you broke up with that bastard of a son have finally led you here with him. 

“Daddy,” pours from your lips involuntarily. Your eyes snap wide open, and you freeze. Joel draws his hips back, cock pulling out from your gaping hole and catching onto it’s head, and before you can scramble your brain for a pathetic excuse of an apology, his lips curl into a snarl, and he slams his hips forward, cock ramming into you full throttle. The force of his thrust so hard, your body jolts forward, and your pelvis collides with the sink.

He doesn’t give you time to recover; Joel sets a fast, unforgiving pace, and with every strong, expert roll of his hips, the edges of your vision begin to blur. And it doesn’t matter how fast he bucks into you; the size of his cock never fails to fill you up to the hilt on every long, punishing stroke. He’s fucking loving it. And so are you. Letting him use you and yanking you back onto his cock by the thin material of your thong, hips snapping back into his like a rubber band. The air quickly fills with delicious wet sounds of your skin slapping against his, your moans and his, and the sharp clink, clink, clink, of metal rattling against you as the movement of your bodies colliding increases. 

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he says, voice rough with arousal. “Been dreamin’ of this pussy since the first time I laid eyes on ya,” he pants, eyes never leaving where the two of you are connected.

Desperate whimpers and breathy moans spill from your lips, his left hand bruising on your hip. “Caught a glimpse of that pretty young pussy under your skirt. Couldn’t get it out of my damn head. I thought about you n’ fucked my fist every night to that image of you in your slutty little skirt. Too fuckin’ short to cover anything.” Your cunt drools with slick with every word that spills from him; you can feel it on the tops of your inner thighs. The wet suction of your cunt around his cock getting louder and louder and louder. It’s borderline pornographic. 

His voice cuts through the lewd sounds. “Some nights I heard those sweet sounds you made–fucked my fist then too. Were you fakin’ it, baby? Huh. Were you fakin’ it with him? My son ever fuck you this good?” He rambles, grip smarting your flesh. 

Your stomach jolts. Scratch that. That’s the last thing you expected him to say. If your ex-boyfriend’s father fucking you wasn’t going to send you spiraling, then him bringing up his own son while he fucks you dumb certainly will. 

Your mind is abuzz; your brain has gone completely blank. There’s no way you could form a proper word in response, even if you tried. There isn’t a single thought inside your head. It’s too much. Too many things are happening at once. For one, he’s never been this talkative; you were lucky if you got two sentences out of him a year ago. And now he’s asking you if his son fucks as good as he does. 

You don’t answer. You can’t. And he’s not expecting you to. All you can do is whimper and moan while he fucks you with abandon, the way you should have been fucked all those times by his son.

“You don’t gotta answer. I know he didn’t. That boy didn’t know what was good for him if it hit him til he was blue in the face.” And you moan in agreement, still not able to think of a response while his tip jabs at your most sensitive spot. 

“S’okay, you were made to take my cock,” he grits, his ringed finger digging into your skin by the unrelenting grip on your waist. “Made to take mine, not his. Tell me, my cock bigger than his?” 

“Daddy–” you gasp, your cunt flutters around him, and Joel laughs a little at you, a low mocking sound that fuels the fire roiling low in your belly. 

“Course it is,” he murmurs. “You were made for me. So fuckin’ pretty n’ perfect n’  – fuck – so goddamn tight. Tighter than a fleshlight, baby.” He hisses in between sharp thrusts.

“N-” you choke on your words, fresh tears pricking your eyes by the force of him fucking you so hard. 

He clicks his tongue. “You don’t like that, baby? You tellin’ me if I say it again, she won’t fuckin’ squeeze the hell outta me?”

Your cunt answers for you, giving him exactly what he wants and fluttering around him in response.

“S’okay, you can like it. You oughta. This sloppy cunt’s gonna be my new cocksleeve. Gonna blow my load in ya, pump you so full o’me.” 

You squeeze painfully tight around him again and bite your bottom lip to muffle the obscene, broken moan that escapes you. You can’t help but picture what Joel looks like thrusting himself into the toy. Was he using it that night? When you heard him coming with a groan of your name, was he pretending to paint your cunt instead of the inside of faux flesh? Or did he pull out and imagine covering your face in his cum? Your back arches as you push yourself up by the heels of your palms on the ceramic, your head topples back onto your neck, eyes rolling back into your skull, the walls of your cunt tensing at the thought. 

His fingers unhook themselves from your panties and his hand finds the back of your skull, and with a firm grip, he angles your head, so you are face to face with your own depraved reflection. “Look how fuckin’ sexy you look takin’ me,” he growls.

And you do; your vision refocuses on the wrecked girl in the mirror: hair wild yet pulled back by Joel’s tight fist, lipstick stained around your swollen lips, mascara smudged by wet tears at the corners of your eyes, temples glistening with beads of sweat as you’re split wide open, perfectly filled to the brim by your ex-boyfriend’s father’s cock. 

Joel’s fist tightens on your makeshift ponytail, pulling you back into him, and with your back now pressed flush to his chest, he brings his lips to your ear, his breath hot against your skin, eyes watching each other in the mirror. “You’ve got a velvet cunt, kiddo, s’damn shame my son didn’t know what to do with it.” 

You squeak, your body jostling and rolling with pleasure on every shift forward, the edge of the countertop bruising your hip bones. You’re blissfully unaware of the spit drooling from your lips and dripping all over the sink faucet until Joel points it out.

“Look at you, wanted it so bad you’re fuckin’ droolin’ f’me, naughty girl,” he pants, hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. “Wanted me to use you like this, huh?”

“Mmm,” you mewl in response, everything beneath your navel tenses while his cock grazes the opening of your cervix on each harsh thrust.

He tuts. “Aww, poor baby, you were all talk before. But you can’t talk back now, huh? You all cock dumb, s’that it? Daddy, fuckin’ ya stupid?” 

"So – good – Daddy,” you force a choked moan. Your cunt clamps down around him, and it burns, flames running wild, scratching away at your nerves as the fat head of his cock brushes against your g-spot again. As if he can feel it too, the snap of his hips grows more desperate. Faster. Harder. Deeper. 

“Keep doin’ that, doin’ so good for me, kiddo. Just a little more, give it to me, come on daddy’s cock, c’mon,” he rasps. Your stomach twists and your chest tightens, his cock hitting you so deep each time his hips swing, and the weight of his balls slapping wetly against your clit has you hurtling full speed towards your release. 

“Daddy – oh f– fuck,” your voice all broken and hoarse. Your entire body goes painfully tight, thighs quivering, and something deep within you snaps. Your eyes screw shut as the energy thrums through your blood. Your mind is a dizzying blur, white light streaking behind your eyelids, and there’s a low ringing in your ears as your orgasm fully engulfs you. 

"Yeah, that’s it. That’s it, kiddo, there you go, let her soak me,” Joel praises as he fucks you through your high, cunt throbbing while your hips move lazily back and forth on him. 

As your orgasm settles, your body goes limp, and your head begins to dip, but Joel tightens his grip on you, shifting your body like a ragdoll until you’re on your tiptoes, the perfect angle for him as he fucks relentlessly into you. 

And with the blissed-out daze of the afterglow and the roaring music from the otherside of the bathroom door getting louder, you can just barely make out Joel’s low rambles of obscenities — almost like he’s mumbling to himself — and the quick, wet, smack, smack, smack of his hips against the plush of your ass as he pummels your cunt, desperate for release — as if his life depends on coming inside you. 

He grunts and through bleary eyes, you watch him through the mirror. He looks wrecked as he chases after his high. He must feel your eyes on him because then his eyes lock with yours in the mirror, and your cunt squeezes him unconsciously. That sends him overboard. His movements become sloppy, and you feel him twitch inside you. His jaw slackens, his eyes pinching shut while his head lulls back, and a breathless chant of, oh shit, fuck that’s it, fuck, escapes him as he comes undone.

His hands clamp, hips finally stuttering, a deep groan slipping past his lips, and then you feel the heat spreading inside you as thick spurts of his seed spill deep inside your cunt. His body falls forward over yours, his sweaty forehead falls into your shoulders, and you let him stay there as his cock continues to pulse, hips lazily rutting into you and pumping you full of his load. Your spent cunt spasms around his throbbing cock, and your wet and his, gathers at the base of his girth and trickles down his balls. 

His hips finally come to a stop, but he doesn’t pull out. Instead, his hand drops from your hair and begins rummaging through your purse. It only takes him a few seconds to find what he’s looking for. Your pen. You watch through watery lashes as he pops the cap with his thumb and brings the tip to the small of your back; your body flinches at the feeling of the cold tip. 

As the ball of the pen drags and tugs across at your skin, for a brief moment you try to surmise what he’s writing, but it takes him too long, and the intensity of your orgasm finally catches up with you. You drop your head on your hand and wait for him to finish whatever the hell he’s drawing on your skin. 

You feel his body shift behind you again, but it’s not until you hear the familiar sound of a low click that has you snapping your head up to the mirror. 

Joel Miller has his phone in his hands. 

And he’s not just doing anything with it. He’s not scrolling through it. He’s not opening up the contacts app. He’s not typing on it.

You catch a bright white flash in the mirror. He’s taking pictures of you. But not just of you. He’s taking pictures of your wasted cunt still plugged full of his cock. 

And for some reason — you don’t move. You don’t stop him. You don’t turn around and snatch the phone from his grasp and call him a dirty old dog. You stay perfectly still, and you let him do what he wants. Letting him take a series of pictures.

But it’s the last few that have his lips curling into a smirk, and he begins mumbling under his breath, gawking at the mess he made of you. 

With his phone poised in his right hand, his left drops to your left ass cheek, his fingers splay across your flesh, pulling your cheek back, and the shutter sound goes off. "Fuck, she’s so pretty like this.” 

Heat blooms in your chest. No one’s ever made you feel like this. But there’s no room for shame when he makes you feel this warm and beautiful... and so fucking sexy. 

And then it hits you. 

No one’s ever made you feel like this. There’s a sudden pang in your heart, tears stinging in your eyes. You’ve always known it. But you never admitted it because it never mattered. How could it? When you’ve never had someone who made you feel worth their time. How could you know what you were missing out on if you’ve never had it to begin with? 

Your head tips back between your shoulders, forcing the tears back into your skull, and to keep them at bay, you redirect your attention on Joel; watch him as he presses his hips flush to your ass so he’s filled you to the hilt. With your body still trembling, you wince and close your eyes in overstimulation. Your body sags forward on the cold surface, melting into submission.

You hear a series of shutters coupled with Joel’s mutters of, Jesus, look at her, the prettiest little pussy, look at this messy little hole swallowin’ up my cock, while you feel his hand moving along the small of your back, no doubt getting different angles of the place where the two of you become one. 

It feels like hours have passed by when Joel seems to have gotten his fill. One of his hands finds your hip again; you shiver and gasp in unison as he slowly slips himself out with a wet squelch. He pumped you so full of his release that you already feel it beginning to trickle out. You didn’t think there’d be that much of it for a man his age.

When his cockhead fully slides out from your hole, you have to fight the urge to whine at the loss of it — of him. But it’s what he does next that stops you from reveling in that; his hand quickly reaches down between your bodies, and two thick fingers catch the cum dripping out of you and push it back inside. You whimper tiredly. 

You stay bent over the sink, and suddenly, for a very brief moment, you feel the heavy weight of his cock slap wetly against your left ass cheek, and for the last time, the camera shutters. 

He quickly pockets his phone, and then he’s pulling your panties over the ache between your thighs, and his hands tentatively pull the skirt back down over your ass, smoothing out the rumpled fabric. You can hear the low rustling behind you — the buzz of his zipper and the clang of his belt buckle, tucking himself back into his pants.

And then Joel Miller surprises you again. He leans forward over you and places a chaste kiss to your clothed shoulder before his hands are on you, gently tugging your body upright and turning you around to face him as he murmurs a low, Let me look at ya. 

His eyes scan over your face, grinning immensely, like he can’t help being proud of himself for ruining you. And you smile bashfully in tandem as you bring a weak hand up to your face. Joel shoos your hand away and rubs his thumb under your eyes, gently wiping away your tears and smeared mascara, then doing the same to the smudged lipstick at the corners of your mouth. 

He’s always been rather soft with you, but it’s a stark contrast in comparison to his earlier behavior; it almost gives you whiplash thinking about it. How he fucked you so full you could feel him in your chest, the stream of profanities he cursed under his breath, moaning the dirtiest things  — comparing himself to his son while inside you, taking filthy pictures as evidence of what the two of you have done together, then cleaning you up like it’s second nature to him. All of it was filthy. He’s filthy. But there was always a softness to him, and there’s no doubt about it in this moment.

You take the opportunity to mirror him and caress away the lipstick that stained his lips from your kiss, you smile and he sighs at the contact. His thumb swiftly pads over your bottom lip, his gaze lands on your lips, a sort of hesitance, perhaps deciding if he wants to kiss you again. Then, his thumb catches on your plush bottom lip. Joel’s lips twitch, his eyes go dark as he drags the flesh of your bottom lip down, eyeing something he knows he almost missed. He scoffs slightly and shakes his head in near-disbelief. You smirk knowing exactly what he’s reacting to. 

His entire face blossoms with cherry red as he does another once over on the black ink inside your mouth. 

“Angel, my ass,” he mutters under his breath before wetting his lips. Already hungry for more. 

He tilts your chin upwards and leans forward to kiss you. It’s softer, slower this time, but of course, he still nips gently at your bottom lip, and at the same time, he slips his free hand down between the two of you once more. It moves beneath the hem of your skirt, fingers shoving your panties to the side, the pulp of his middle finger pushing through your puffy folds and into your dripping hole, until the black ink that reads, brake, is entirely sheathed inside your worn cunt, making sure his come stays where it belongs. You whimper against his lips, bucking into his hand.

“Keep that in there, f’me,” he mutters, his hot breath fanning over your lips. “Want you thinkin’ o’me when it drips outta ya tonight.” 

You whine faintly when Joel removes his hand. He brings it up to his face, and his tongue darts out to glide across the tip of his digit, licking his finger clean of your wet and his, all while keeping his eyes on yours the whole time. 

There’s a long beat of silence between you, and then he drops his hand, pulling away. Your heart falls, already missing the warmth emanating from his touch.

“We oughta get back before people start looking for us,” he murmurs as he steps back. You smile softly and nod. You’re not sure you’ll see him again. And you don’t have the heart to ask him, nor do you have the strength to handle it if he rejects your offer. You have nothing else to give. 

You love how he made you feel, but your chest twinges — one that twists deep. And no matter how much you try to quell that deep-seated fear, it never truly leaves you. A little voice in the back of your mind that repeats on a loop like a broken record, telling you: He’ll break your heart. They all do. But he can’t hurt you if you don’t let him. You resist the urge to turn and run. And instead, you turn to glance back in the mirror, sure to tame your disheveled appearance, giving Joel a chance to leave before you, slipping back into someone from your past.

He makes his way to the door, sliding the lock open; his hand curls around the handle but pauses before pulling it open. He turns to face you. “You okay?” he asks. 

It shocks you. It’s more than his son ever did. Certainly means more to you after he’d ask, Was it good, after coming in you before you even got started. Everything Joel did tonight is more than his son ever did; asking you questions all night and listening attentively while you answered them — whether it was with the hope of fucking you or not — doesn't matter. You fought tooth and nail for a sliver of his son’s attention, but with Joel, he just fucking gave it to you. 

You do your best to ignore that gnawing feeling of fear, clawing its way up your chest by the only way you know how; you press your lips to Joel’s, pushing your tongue into his awaiting mouth, and licking along the rim of his teeth. A strong hand curls around your jaw, fighting for dominance over the kiss, but you don’t let him for long, though. Reluctantly, you pry yourself off him, but not before Joel’s teeth softly graze your earlobe, nipping the flesh there.

You flash him a quick smile, looping the strap of your purse over your shoulder. “Perfect.” 

He smiles softly at that, eyes dancing across your face. “Yeah,” he whispers and moves to the side, letting you step out first and following you out. 

You head straight to the booth where your group of four awaits you, but not before peering over your shoulder and seeing Joel stalk towards his crew. You smile to yourself and tuck a lock of hair behind your ear as you approach your friends. As you shimmy in beside one of them, they ask where you were, and their brows pinch when you mumble, I was feeling a little dizzy. Which isn’t a total lie, but no one presses you for more, and you’re glad they don’t. 

It’s not until your friends start collecting their belongings and announce they want to check out the new bar a few blocks down the street when you feel the weight of tonight’s actions sinking into you. You’re about ready to call it a night; your eyes are heavy, your brain is still fuzzy, and your body still has not recovered from Joel railing you. 

You mull over sitting in the booth until the car you plan to order shows up to take you home. But the thought of waiting around in Joel’s presence makes your chest tighten. You don’t want to find out if he’ll be like the rest of them. Something to scratch an itch, and then wiping you from memory. That urge to flee loops back, and your legs force you to stand.

Collectively, you amble through the bar, still bubbling with energy, and as you make your way to the exit, you can feel the heat of a stare on you. You don’t need to turn to know who it is; his broad form ghosts along the edges of your periphery.

You walk against that pull you feel towards him, ache festering, skin burning, and bones grating with every heavy step, your eyes locked on the door like a missile to a target, not letting your eyes wander over to his booth, trying to keep what’s left of your dignity. Resisting. Resisting. Resisting. 

Lucas steps out first, holding the door open for another group of younger twenty-somethings as they saunter into the bar. While you hang back, you quickly mumble over your shoulder to Nell that you’re thinking of heading home. Worry cuts across her face, and she extends an offer, At least let me drive you home, hun. 

Your answer is cut off by the chime of your phone in your purse. You still and fumble for it and see a message from Mr. Miller. You had forgotten you never deleted his number. 

Holding your phone close to your chest, cautiously away from your friend’s curious eyes, you click on the notification.

He’d sent you two of the pictures he happily took at the top of the hour with a message that reads, Look damn sexy on my cock, kiddo. 

Your mouth falls open in a gasp, and pride swells in your chest as you glance at the first picture: Joel plugging your used cunt full of his length, his graying pubic hairs drenched and the base of his shaft gleaming with a white ring of creamy release. Your eyes flit upwards, and you finally get a chance to read the dark permanent lines he’d written on your skin.

Joel had crossed out the latter half of your tattoo on your ass cheek. It now reads, daddy’s fleshlight, in sloppy penmanship. With his grip porcelain white, the cross on his thumb makes an appearance as his digit digs into your hip at the corner of your tattoo. Your eyes drift further north, and above the globe of your ass, the small of your back reads, mine. 

Your thumb swipes across the screen to the second picture. With his cock poised in his hand, he had pressed the swollen mushroom head, only a hairsbreadth beneath the ink on the plush flesh of your ass — black ink shiny with a pearly film, he had smeared it in your mixed juices. Your cunt clenches at the images — at his absence, missing the warm, thick stretch of him. And suddenly, you feel his cum beginning to dribble out of you and pool into the gusset of your already ruined thong. 

When you don’t answer. The message bubble appears.

A beat, then two, and then—

There’s a place for you here.

You swallow down the twinge, the ache, press your thighs shut around emptiness, and feel another slight trickle escape your lower lips when your pussy releases more of his cum. You lock your phone and look back up at Nell in front of you. You feign nonchalance and wave her off, telling her you can’t go home just yet. Tell her that you received a few more requests from your boss and you, Don’t wanna take work home. 

She asks how you’ll get home, you lie, and swiftly mention that you just saw Mr. Miller across the bar and that he’ll drive you home. Another tiny white lie. Your place is a solid halfway point from the bar to his house. And when she asks if you’re sure you’ll be okay alone, her hand gently squeezing your arm, brows furrowed with worry, bless her heart, your gaze follows that pull like a magnet and lands on Joel. 

He’s already watching you. 

Your eyes lock with his, one hand resting to the side while the other tips the glass he’d been nursing towards you, winking as he takes a short sip of amber liquid. 

And there’s no pang in your chest. No urge to flee. Just the warmth of his gaze that in any second now will radiate through his touch, turning your bones to ash. 

You flash Nell a smile. Yeah…You’ll be fine.

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ❞

❝ SATORU GOJO IS THE HONORED ONE - AND HE'S MORE THAN HONORED TO BREED YOU ! ❞

✧ pairing: gojo satoru x sorcerer!reader

✧ summary: it's your duty as the wife of the clan head to help your husband get dressed -- even for battle. but that didn't mean he couldn't spend some time undressing you. aka fucking gojo in his shinjuku showdown outfit

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, canon compliant, feral gojo, Ijichi featured, dom!gojo, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral (f), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), mirror sex, clothed sex, creampie, implied multiple rounds, multiple positions, swearing,

✧ w/c: 7,946

✧ now playing: feature one of sab's kinktober

“Perfect,” 

The word slips from your lips without a second thought as you slip the haori over his shoulders, snow locks against the coal colored silk, slick as steel and light as a feather, yet carrying the heft of expense. 

Just as your husband did. 

Little words could describe Satoru Gojo — the most common being the strongest — unmatched strength that matched his flawless appearance and even more unsullied skill set. Curses would sooner exorcise themselves rather than face him, and those who didn’t, well, they did not have long to linger on their mistake. 

But you didn’t think of him as the strongest. No, your husband was so much more than that. A teacher. A mentor. A friend. An idiot (but he would insist that he was your idiot, and he very much was). And he was perfect. 

A remark you knew many would balk at,  and even now — as you dressed your husband, at his insistence, fingers helping him pull the fabric over his body, before smoothing it over his muscle and the word fell from you without a second thought — you caught glimpse of a grimace on Ijichi’s face in the mirror. 

“Ijichi, you should go before I slap the shit out of you for your expression,” Ijichi squeaks in horror before slipping from the room, quiet click of the door welcoming silence, only for a moment, “what was that again, sweetheart?” 

You roll your eyes, “should I really indulge you in making your ego any bigger? You may defeat Sukuna with just the sheer size and weight of it,” you tease, fingers smoothing and adjusting his haori. 

“Think that would be a victory either way, sweetheart,” his fingers find yours, weaving with your own — miraculously soft even with bearing the weight of the world in his hands alone, “but I don’t want to win in such a boring way, especially to Sukuna,” 

“And why’s that?” His lips curl. 

“Because I have to look cool in front of my precious students, don’t I?” you see a hint of sadness linger in his gaze — and you hear the unspoken words, especially Megumi, but the smile slides back on as usual,  “I can’t have myself embarrassing myself can I? You’d never let me live it down,” 

“Oh, no I wouldn’t,” your fingers slide up to cup his cheek, “but you’d expect nothing less from your wife, now would you?” 

And he grins, just as he did the day he had proposed to you, at the classroom at Jujutsu Tech where you first met, deep reds and oranges flooding the wood paneled room, painting it as it only could in the evenings, but even the sun paled in comparison to Satoru on his knee, lips curled in your favorite smile — the very one he gave you every day. 

“My wife,” he hums, and you have to stop yourself from biting your lip and tense your muscles so you didn’t jump him then and there. 

“What about it?” he runs the back of his fingers over your cheek. 

“Just glad I convinced you to let us get married early,” not that it took much convincing at all — only a single look after he was unsealed and several minutes of making out later, and he had gotten Ijichi to get the registration and paperwork for him — the very papers Satoru had prepared before Shibuya, “because now you’re stuck with me, wifey,” 

You chuckle, your fingers finding his as they brushed your cheek, turning your head to kiss his fingers, “I’ve been stuck with you from the moment we met,” 

And you had been — you hadn’t known peace since he had thrown that Jujutsu Tech classroom door open all those years ago, with a welcome party prepared for you and the other first years, microphone in hand as he introduced each of you. And it wasn’t his strength or his skill or even his stupidity that charmed you — but the goddamn smile on his lips. 

Funny, how everyone was so preoccupied with his eyes, when every inch of his was just as captivating— 

“Think you’re going to lose me now, Toru?” You rub your thumb across the length of his cheek, “don’t know if I could ever live without you,” 

“Oh yeah?” he wraps his arms around your waist, his warm form enveloping you, “no regrets?” 

“Only one,” and he tilts his head, blues gleaming with the low light of the room, catching like sunlight against waves, as your fingers traced down to the smooth silk of his clothes, “that we never got married in a formal ceremony,” 

“If I recall, you were in just as much of a rush as me,” his lips graze your jaw, threads of heat slipping up and down every inch of your body, a kiss pressed to the soft skin behind your ear, “you barely wanted to even have the small ceremony we did,” 

“That’s because someone kept touching me while I got ready,” and he did, as you changed into a dress you selected for the small ceremony — or rather you tried, as his warm palms slid up your body, his mouth covering your soft gasps and protests, “or do you forget that you nearly fucked me against the wall right outside the room we were going to marry?” 

“It’s not my fault my wife is so tempting, they say my technique is deadly, but you yourself are far more dangerous,” he hummed, another kiss against your cheek, as his thumb and forefinger cups your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror,  “why the want a formal ceremony anyway? If I remember, you said formal ceremonies were only for the attendees rather than the couple,” 

“Well, maybe I saw something that changed my mind,” or someone in something—

“Oh? And what could change my incredibly stubborn wife’s mind?” 

You hate him — hate the teasing glint in his gaze because he knows exactly why, as he noses the hollow of your neck, lips grazing your flushed skin, “You know why,” and he does, he sees it in the way your gaze lingers across his body, the way you shiver when his palm slips down your hip only to squeeze, and in the soft sound that leaves your lips when his fingers trace down your chin to the valley of your chest. 

“I’d like to hear you say it, sweetheart,” he presses himself flush to your back, heat seeping through the fabric, just as his breath warmed your skin, “don’t tell me you forgot how to use your words,” 

“You’re the worst,” and his chuckle reverberates against you, sending a shiver up your body, his hands sliding down the front of your shirt until he reaches the hem, fingers toying with the fabric. 

“And what does that make you since you married me?” 

“A fool,” your lips curl, his eyes meeting yours, “but a very smart one,” and he clicks his tongue. 

“So smart and yet she can’t answer a simple question,” you sigh, and his fingers, finally, slide underneath against your bare stomach. 

“You just want me to stroke your ego,” and he grins at you in the mirror, robes nearly engulfing your form now. 

“Oh, that’s not all I want you to stroke,” your snort is cut off by a gasp as his palms slide under your bra, “I’ll just keep teasing you until you break,” and his fingers tease your pert nipples, a wave of heat headed straight for your cunt, “and y’know I can, wifey.” 

~~~

“Hngh, Toru, please—” 

Satoru doesn’t know what he loves more — the sound of his name on your lips, desperation on your tongue, the same tongue that he had tasted again and again or the sight of you below him, spread out on his desk, papers and books long crumpled and pushed onto the floor — but he doesn’t need to choose a favorite thing when it comes to you. 

Because every single thing is his favorite. 

“If you want me to stop, you can try, sweetheart,” he presses a kiss to your thigh, teeth grazing the soft flesh, another mark blooming among the rest, a field of reds and purples he could spend hours exploring, “don’t know how far you’d get,” 

His fingers press your thighs further apart, with the barest hint of strength, and you’re still utterly restrained under his touch — a lovely butterfly pinned for his viewing — and what a view it was. 

“Fucker,” you pout at him half-heartedly, your kiss ruined lips and fucked out gaze doing nothing to help your case, “we were supposed to be getting you dressed for—“ 

“Then there’s no problem,” his fingers tug your blouse over your head, your bra askew from his eager fingers, and his hand reaches around to undo the clasp. But he doesn’t pull it away with his fingers, but instead bends down to  away the intruding garment, “because you’re the only one getting undressed, sweets,” 

There was something about the thought — and the sight — of you completely bare for him, at his mercy naked and vulnerable, while he stood clad in the clothes meant for battle. His cock twitched, he supposed this was a battle of kind — as he pushed his sleeves up — a battle of how many times he could cum inside you. 

“Satoru—“ you squeal as he nearly rips away your panties, leaving you bare for him, your thighs closing on reflex, only for him to press them back apart, “fuck—“ 

“That’s what I’m trying to do, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, bringing your soaked panties to his nose to smell, before pocketing them, a grin on his lips, “a good luck charm,” 

You gape at him, half horrified and half amused at the thought of the Gojo elders somehow finding out that the Gojo clan head’s clothes had been defiled by your underwear — though you were sure they expected nothing less from Satoru Gojo.  

But even so, you can’t bring yourself to complain, “You don’t need luck to win,” and he scoffs lightly, his warm palm sliding up your thigh, lips pressing hot kisses up your shin, right to your knee, “you just need to know I’ll kick your ass if you don’t make it back in one piece to me,” your fingers run through his soft locks, before tracing over his cheek. 

“I know, and the thought of you waiting for me is all I need,” he turns to your hand, lips pressing a kiss against the cool metal of your wedding ring, “and it wasn’t for that,” and he’s shifting, settling fully between your thighs, lips inches from your sopping pussy, “it’s for making sure I can breed you right,” 

His fingers brush against your fluttering walls, index finger tracing the outer walls with the very tip, pulling and tugging until you were spread out completely, messy pussy on display just for him. You couldn’t squirm under his the wet squelch making your cheeks burn, “S-stop teasing, just—“ 

You moan as he sinks a thick finger into you, knuckle deep and fast, “So needy for someone who was whining a second ago about stopping,” it doesn’t take long for a second finger to join, stretching out your perfect pussy, warm walls pulling him deeper each time he pulled out, his wrist and palm drenched in your juices, “but y’know I can’t stop, wifey, it’s our duty, right? Duty to produce an heir, but more importantly,” And a third finger sinks inside, as he peers up at you, lips parted in a sweet moan that makes his cock throb, ready to bust without a single touch, because he doesn’t need touch — not when it’s you under him, “my duty to fuck and yours to be fucked,” 

And your cunt squeezes his fingers at his vulgar words, a coil growing tighter in the pit of your stomach, heat building, as you can’t help moan his name, “and how will we fulfill our duty if I don’t prepare you, huh? Gotta make sure you’re ready, hm?” 

His thumb rubs over your aching clit, the lewd noises of your slick nearly white noise to your ears as pleasure builds, every muscle taut underneath his touch. He’s pumping faster and harder, nails dragging over your walls, until his fingers find that spot you love — the one he knows how to hit again and again, and he does. 

Your head lolls back against the desk, pleasure ripping up your spine, “I’m—“ 

And that’s the only warning you give before you cum, name on your lips as your back arches, as he fingerfucks you through your orgasm, working you down from your high. You're panting, chest heaving as he slowly eases his fingers from you, the emptiness making you whine. 

Your eyes flutter open to the sight of him licking his fingers clean of your cum, tongue darting across his lips, a glint in his eyes.

“You’re so sweet I can never get enough of you,” and he lifts a finger to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his digit, obediently closing your mouth around it, until he’s dragging it out, pulling at your bottom lip, “you’re dripping from both lips aren’t you?” 

“That’s your fault,” god, you’re too fucking cute, thighs twitching as he leaned down to your soaked cunt, a pretty flushed pink, “you made a mess,” and his tongue licks a stripe up your leaking walls, sparks blooming from the hot muscle flicking against your hard clit. 

“Then I guess it’s my responsibility to clean you up,” 

Satoru Gojo is always too much — it’s too much the way his tongue drags over the seam of your cunt, it’s too much when his nose bumps against your clit when he buries his face in your pussy, your fingers curling in his white locks, and it’s too much when you feel his grunts and moans resonate against your drenched folds. 

It was too much. 

“How are you so soft?” He mumbles, words whispered against your puffy clit before he kisses it, “you say I don’t play fair but you were unfair from the moment I met you,” he reaches down, palming at his erection, “and I knew you’d be mine,” Your eyes find his lips less than an inch from your pussy, chin and lips shiny with your cum and his spit, “you and this sweet pussy,” 

And he’s slurping every ounce of your essence you give him, greedily lapping at you as if he’d rather drown in your juices than breath real air, “fuck, Toru, slow down—“ toes curling as you 

He clicks his tongue, your head rolling back as your nails dig into his scalp, “You shouldn’t lie, sweets, not when this pretty girl is so honest,” the only sound being the wet squelch of your 

“Satoru Gojo!” A familiar voice rings out followed by several knocks, “how long do you expect to keep us waiting?” 

Fuck. And there was the reason you two were getting sresssd to begin with — a showing before Gakuganji and the Gojo clan before the battle with Sukuna. A showing Satoru agreed to undoubtedly to fuck with them — and you, now, for that matter, as he sucks at your clit again, your hand flying to cover your mouth. 

“Didn’t know you were waiting. Thought keeping you waiting would have sent you the right message,” Satoru replies, words said nearly against your wet cunt, breath warming your folds, a shiver working it’s way up your spine, “do you all need to see me in my clothes for battle that badly? I’ll have to start to suspect other motives — and while I’m flattered, with how flattered I can be from a bunch old geezers, I am a married man—“ 

“You insolent brat—“ his tirade falls on deaf ears as you try to urge Satoru off, but he doesn’t, only pinning your hips in place, hands locked under your knee, as he tugs you closer. 

And he only grins, “Don’t tell me you’ll let this old coot distract us, sweetheart? Gonna make me insecure, does my wife not like this as much as her pussy does?” He groans his fingers, spreading your walls apart, parting them to see your cum and pre leak, only for him to lap it up, “because you’ve gotten wetter, haven’t you?” 

“T-Toru, I swear to god, I’ll—“ you half whisper, half hiss, and he sinks two fingers inside your needy walls, his tongue and fingers doing nothing to keep quiet as the squelch of your folds only grows louder as he drags his fingers inside every inch of you, while his tongue busies itself with your clit. 

“You’ll what, wifey?” he hums, making you whimper, “leave? You know you don’t want that. We could make a show of it, should I open these doors and let everyone see how needy you are for me,” and you can’t help the gasp that parts your lips, walls clenching around his fingers, “maybe then those geezers will see why I chose you,” 

“Satoru! Are you even listening?” 

“You can say whatever you want to me here,” Satoru sinks a third finger inside, teasing your clit with chaste kisses, “I’m not leaving this room for the rest of the night,” 

Gakuganji pounds at the door, but you barely hear it, heart pounding in your ears, as you barely muffle your moans behind your clenched fist, “Disgraceful, do you think this is anyway to behave—“ you’re so close, too close, ready to cum as he pumps his fingers once, twice, three times — hitting your sweet spot again and again—you feel yourself reach that peak—

Only for him to stop. The whine that leaves your lips is a little too loud, just as his smirk is a little too wide. 

Fucking asshole. 

Satoru chuckles, teasing you open with his fingertips, just carding your folds barely open at all, pulling small gasps and moans muffled against clenched fingers, “Aw, c’mon, you don’t think being sealed up in that box taught me anything? You should know it only made me take what I want,” Satoru pulls his fingers from inside you, licking up the side of his digits,  “and what I want is right here,” he leans back down, “so tell me and leave,” 

“Even so, I need to speak to you alone,” 

“It’s only me and my wife. You can tell her anything you tell me, she’s the more responsible one after all,” he punctuates it by his teeth grazing your clit, making your hips jerk underneath him, his hand covering your mouth, your fingers curling over his. He grins down at you as he kisses your thigh, “My wife is indisposed at the moment,” 

You don’t hear what Gakuganji says as his fingers sink back inside all at once, fingers rough as they fucked you open in earnest, but you hear Satoru scoff nonetheless. 

“Get your mind out of the gutter, you old geezer — she’s just lying down,” and he adds with a whisper, curling his fingers just right, “and getting her brains fingerfucked out,” and your pretty eyes are full of tears, cries muffled against his fingers, spit soaked, as he feels your walls clamp around his fingers, “what do you think? Should I let him in, sweetheart? Let him see how you well you get fucked by me, hear you scream my name when you cum for me?” 

Nerves on fire from his touch, he’s just adding fuel to the fire, and you’re bucking into his fingers, wanting his fingers deeper even a little—

“No, I don’t think so,” his lips curl as he leans down, cerulean glinting in the low light, as your walls give that tell tale flutter, “because this pretty cunt is just for me,” and he sucks hard at your clit, just as he pulls his hand away, “cum.” 

And you do, pleasure ripping through every inch of you as your back arches upwards into his touch, as he holds you against his face, cumming against his fingers and lips. 

It’s heaven, buried in your sweet cunt as you cum, hot release against his tongue that he laps up greedily, the wet squelch of your pussy along with your lips crying out his name again and again. doing nothing to ease the throbbing between his thighs. 

And when he finally does pull away, licking his lips and chin clean of your release, he watches you coming down from your high — eyes fluttering open slowly as your chest heaves, pussy split open just for him, your cum staining parts of his pants shirt and haori. 

Fuck, he’ll have to see everyone off like this — your cum on his clothes — and his dick twitches, as he leans down to press kisses along your body, with you shivering as he does. And he wants nothing more than this moment to last, with you beneath him, the taste of you on his lips, and the sounds of your soft pants filling his ears. 

That is until, you flipped him, back hitting the plush of the mattress, “sweets—“ 

“Did you forget? It’s a wife’s duty to serve her husband,” and your fingers are as deft as they are possessed — grazing over the bulge in his pants, a hiss before pulling the drawstrings apart, “isn’t that right, husband?” 

Fuck, he bites his lip as he watches you tug his trousers down, his erection slaps his stomach, hard and leaking through the fabric of his boxers, a large dark stain of precum from his weeping tip. 

Fuck, your cunt ached at the sight of him — no matter how many times you saw his cock, you couldn’t get over just how long he was — it was a miracle you were able to take him without breaking your cunt, though he’d gotten far too close. 

“And I thought you said we couldn’t undress me,” his cock twitches as your fingers trace over the dripping slit through the drenched material. 

Your eyes don’t meet his, still fixed on his hard on, “if the clothes are on you, does it even count as undressing?” 

And your fingers dip into the elastic of his boxers before snapping it against his skin, making him jolt, “should I stop then, oh honored one?” You rub your thumb over his slit harshly, a gasp falling from his lips as his head lolls back, “maybe I should go get Gakuganji, let you have your meeting,” 

“Playing dirty doesn’t suit you, sweetheart—“ and you pull his boxers down, pooling around his knees just as his pants did, cold air hitting his cock making him hiss. 

“Like I said,” your palms slide up his body, from his waist, and under his shirt, to his chest, stealing the breath from his lungs, “should I stop?” 

He looks up at you, lungs filled with heat instead of air, lips hovering an inch from his leaking erection. 

“Fuck no.” 

~~~

You’d be the death of him. 

There was no mistake about it. 

Satoru Gojo only had one weakness—and you were sitting on top of him. Your hair disheveled with your fingers running through them, lips kiss bitten and ruined even as your teeth grazed your bottom lip, and your gaze molten and only for him — just for him. 

And you called him perfect. 

A groan leaves his chest as your tongue flicks against his slit, salty precum swallowed by eager lips. He’s hypnotized by you, fingers reaching for you, as his thumb drags down your puffy bottom lip, parting your mouth for him, tongue darting out to lick the pad of his finger. Fuck, your mouth is so sweet, but how is it so wicked all the same? 

“Fuck, sweets, how do you look so good on your knees f’me? S’not fair,” and your forefinger traces his pretty veins from base to tip, running over every curve and inch that would be buried in your tight cunt soon enough, his hips jumping against your touch, “g’nna make me cum before you even touch me,” 

“If you’re gonna cum anywhere, it better be on me,” your lips curl at the shiver that runs down his body, your fingers sliding up his thigh as your fingers slide the pre down his length, fingers slowly pumping him. 

“Fuuuuck, just like that, can’t wait to bury myself in your sweet pussy, wifey—“ your lips kiss his slit, sucking as your fingers toyed with his balls, feeling far too tight from your touch, a moan cutting off his words. 

“G’tta find a way to shut you up somehow, Toru,” you spit on his cock, pressing teasing kisses up and down his begging length, “or maybe we can find a gag,” 

You’ll kill him before he even gets a chance to fight Sukuna, and he’d die a happy man. 

His precum drips down your chin, painting your lips, tongue darting out to lick it off your skin, “s’fucking good for me,” the praise sending a wave of heat right to your cunt, hot cum slipping down your thighs — and you finally let his cock slip past your lips. 

A whine leaves his throat, his head lolls back, your pretty mouth wrapped around his dick, soaking his length, hips jerking against your mouth. Half muttered apologies, he couldn’t look away from the sight of you on your knees for him — mouth stuffed full of his cock with glassy eyes from the soreness of your jaw as you bobbed your head up and down his length. Just watching his dick go and in out of your pretty fucking lips, drenched in your spit and his pre, was enough to make him want to cum then and there. 

But he wasn’t the only one. 

Small whimpers and moans reverberate against his cock, tongue flicking against his veins, when his eyes flicker down, nails nearly digging into your scalp as he sees you two fingers deep in your cunt, the wet sounds of your pussy mixing with the squelches of his cock in your mouth. 

“Fuck, such a nasty girl I married, huh?” He runs his fingers through his hair, entranced by the sight of you fucking yourself open with your fingers, your mouth growing sloppily as you do, “does fucking my dick turn you on this much? You’ve soaked the sheets,” he chides, wide smirk undercutting any iota of scolding, while you meet his gaze with a glare, “Aw, what? Can’t take it—“ 

His words are cut off as you take him deep, too bumping against your throat, and his fingers curl in his locks. 

“Shit—“ Your fingers graze his balls again before squeezing, hard, he nearly busts them and there, but he can’t, not yet — his fingers weave into your locks to slowly pull you off, strings of spit and pre connecting your — not when he hasn’t fucked your pretty cunt yet. 

Your eyes are dilated, dark with pleasure as his gaze meets your own, a mix of his pre and your spit slipping from the corner of your mouth, “You haven't cum yet—“ and his fingers wrap around your wrist and pull your fingers from inside yourself. 

You yelp as he flips you over in an instant, hitting the mattress with a bounce, large palms sliding up your thighs, as he presses your knees to your chest. 

“The only place I’m cumming, sweetheart,” as he drags the swollen head of his cock against your needy folds, watching his precum smear against your twitching folds, before lifting your soaked fingers to his lips, “is inside your sweet cunt.” 

“Toru—please—“ and you’re so needy, just for him, your fingers finding the front of his scarf before tugging him close, a gasp chased away by a grin as he sees the pure desperation in your eyes, “I need you,” 

“I’m right here, sweets,” and he’s leaning down to dot sweet kisses down your body — against your neck, the bridge of your collarbone, the swell of your breasts. “You’re going to have to be more specific,” 

“Fucker,” he laughs. 

“Now you’re getting closer,” and he does too, bumping the head of his weeping erection against your puffy clit, as your folds feel as if they’ll part for him in an instant, “this pretty girl is more honest than you are,” he’s parting your folds with his tip only to pull out. 

A whine turns to a scowl, as you tug him even closer by his scarf, “I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me, I’ll strangle you with this—“ and he sinks into you. 

Fuck, you swear you feel every goddamn inch, vein, and curve as he works himself into your tight cunt, walls fluttering as if beckoning him deeper—and he was only too happy to oblige. 

“Toru, s’too big,” your whining only makes his cock throb inside you as he bottoms out inside, “s’too much,” 

“Too much? No, sweets, this dick was made to fuck you,” he grunts, taking every iota of his self control not to thrust into you and bury his cum deep in your womb — no, he wanted this to last, “and this pussy was made for my cum,” he rolls his hips against you swallowly, his tip brushing against your cervix, as both of your heads roll back. 

“How are you so tight? Pleasure rips up your spine as he begins a steady pace of fucking you, sounds of skin smacking together ringing in your ears, “you’re fucking wet and yet you have me in a vice grip,” his clothes rub against you, your slick soaking through the fabric, “should I go meet with the elders like this? Let them see the Gojo clan’s haori soaked by your juices,” fingers pressing your legs apart wider and higher, divots in your flesh from his touch. 

Your walls squeeze at his words, mouth falling open wordlessly as he grunts, “F-fuck,” you can only manage to say, chest heaving as you grasp at the front of his haori, pulling him needlessly closer, “f-faster—“ and he grins. 

He was more than happy to oblige. 

He rails into you at a pace impossible for anyone but Satoru Gojo. And your gasp fades into a drawn out moan that makes him only want to fuck you harder and faster — he needed to bury himself in your cunt until all you remembered was how to moan his name. 

“You take me so well, so deep,” his hand laces with yours and guides it to the bulge in your stomach, “see how deep you take me? Good girl,” the praise makes you keen, sending another wave of pre to soak his dick, and he chuckles, “gonna fit my baby so well too,” 

Your mouth falls open as his dick ruts against you, bullying your pussy open, “W-what?” 

“Y’think we’re gonna leave this bed before I’ve filled you up?” And he punctuates his words with each roll of his hip, “nah, this cunt is all mine tonight,” his thumb drags down your lips, pressing against your tongue, spit leaking out as you groaned, “and so are you,” 

And you’re sucking at his thumb, teeth grazing it before brushing it away to lean up to meet his lips in a bruising, messy kiss — all spit and teeth and tongue, as your hips meet his thrusts, tip finally finding that sweet spot that has your back arching and your eyes rolling back. 

“Toru, fuck, I’m g’nna—“ and you’re cumming, hard, orgasm hitting every inch of your body at once, nerve endings shot with pleasure as he fucks you through it — fucking relentless (or should you say limitless?). Satoru grunts as your walls clamp down on him, the wet squelch of your pussy only growing louder among your pants and moans. He watches the white ring of cum wrap around the base of his cock as it split you open, and all he wanted to do was cum inside you. 

He needed to. 

But he’s pulling out suddenly, a gasp ripped from your lips at the emptiness, before he’s pulling you into his lap, your back pressed to his chest, an arm around you to keep you from squirming. 

“What are you—“ your sentence cuts off as he teases your far too sensitive entrance with the head of his cock, “T-toru,” 

And his other hand snakes around to cup your chin, forcing you to meet your own gaze in the mirror. 

You’re a mess — sweat slicked and naked, your skin littered with blooming red marks dotting up and down your body, your nipples pebbled and hard under his touch, and your cunt on full display, his fingers slipping down to spread them, as if to show you where he just was. 

And he was — hulking behind you, his whole form enveloping you as his cock pushed against your needy entrance. His haori disheveled and his hair askew from your fingers running through it, skin shiny with sweat, skin beautifully flushed, and his eyes filled with lust and his smile far too pleased with himself as he watched you squirm. 

Your eyes squeeze shut, “Don’t wanna be the only one to watch me cum inside you, you should enjoy the view too,” he’s finally sinking to you again, body falling back against him as he sheathed himself in you fully again, “look at how well you take me,” 

And his fingers are cupping your chin, spit slipping from your mouth, as he forced you to look again, see the bulge in your stomach as he slowly began to fuck you, his grunts and moans hot against your ear, “y’know, I’m beginning to really believe you were made for me, sweets, the only one for me,” and he’s emphasizing it with a thrust, “you’re the only one I can even imagine wanting, even just thinking of you is enough for me,” his words do nothing but make you grow tighter as he fucks upwards into you, as he spots your eyes shut again, “c’mon baby, watch me fuck you,”

So you do, watch as his cock slides in and out of your cunt, the wet noises and squelch almost too much for you to bear, the all too familiar knot in your stomach growing ready to snap. His fingers slide up your body to pinch and tease your sensitive nipples, already flushed from his attention. He’s murmuring sweet words, but you don’t hear any of them — you’re gone, lost in the pleasure, in the sweet stretch of your pussy around his cock, unable to look away as he fucks into you. 

“S’good for me, sweets, I’m close,” and he’s pulling you down flush against him, cock buried to the base as his tip brushes against your g-spot with every thrust, his lips pressing needy kisses to the side of your neck, “fuck, g’nna cum—” 

“Cum inside me, fill me up, Toru,” and he groans your name, turning your head to find your lips in a sloppy kiss, tongue wrapped around yours just as his cock hits the deepest part of your tight cunt and his fingers rub against your clit. 

And you’re squirting, gushing over his lap and cock, pulling your lips from him as you moan his name, as he rails into you through your orgasm, until he notches himself as deep as he can before he’s cumming too, hot release painting your walls as he fills you up. He’s fucking his cum into you. 

You both grow slack as he slows his movements, relaxing against his body, murmuring soft praises as he slowly pulls himself from inside, clicking his tongue, as he watches his cum slip out of you. 

“Sweetheart, how will you fulfill your duty if you let my cum slip out like that?” he kisses your cheek, before he’s gathering the cum on his fingers to stuff it back inside, drawing a gasp from your lips, “maybe I’ll just fill you up again, hm?” 

His softening cock twitches at the thought, as you lean into him, shifting as you feel just how wet you’ve gotten him…and his clothes. 

Fuck. 

“Toru, how are you going to fight in these clothes tomorrow?” you cover your burning cheeks, “it’s drenched,” 

“It’ll dry,” you snap your head to him to glare at him, and he pouts, “what? It’ll be like you’re fighting with me—” 

“I swear if I have to live with the knowledge you fought the king of curses with my cum all over you, I’ll kill you—” 

“And if I’m not alive—”

“I will bring you back to life, just to kill you,” and your palm slides against the slant of his cheek, “and you’re not going to die, I forbid it,” 

He chuckles, his lips leaning down to meet yours in a sweet kiss, “Then I better not now, huh?” 

~~~

“You’ll come home to me, won’t you?” 

It hadn’t been a question, not until now, now when you’re faced with the reality of the day pressed against you as day breaks over December 24th. Daylight seeped into the bedroom, his thumb tracing a lazy circle against the divot of your hip, a soft smile on his lips, with his arms wrapped around you. 

Atlas long having shifted the sky to your husband’s shoulders, from the second he existed in his world — but for a moment, you feel it too. Not like him — never like him, even when you tried to bear it with him. But you never could understand, no matter how you tried to.  

But you tried — his fingers lacing with yours, engulfing yours with his warmth, as he lifted your intertwined fingers to his lips. 

“Where else would I go, sweets?” And you didn’t want to think of the other possibilities, to say the words out loud and manifest them as some cruel jujutsu god’s intention. Because when were these gods ever kind? “I only belong in one place — two if you count the mochi place in Sendai,” 

But he doesn’t earn a smile out of you, frown still firmly fixed to your lips, “ouch, not even a pity half smile?” he tilts his head, “sweetheart—“ 

“You said it yourself that the ten shadows is the ultimate counter to infinity,” you hate the words that leave your lips, filling in your mouth like bile, unable to do anything but spit them out like acid, “that and Sukuna’s technique, I’m worried—“ 

“Worrying won’t change the outcome, baby, and I’m not planning on losing,” 

“If you aren’t, then why did you agree to give Yuta your body?” your words were quiet, his movements still, muscles tense as if he had already given up his autonomy to another, “and you didn’t tell me,”

He’s careful with his words, tiptoeing between buried mines— “I didn’t want you to worry about something that wouldn’t happen—“ but still managing to step on one all the same. 

“Bullshit. You thought it would be better for me to find out if push comes to shove?” you laugh, a bitter noise, but all the anger leaves your body, and only fear is left, “I can’t lose you, Toru,” 

“Baby—“ 

“I can’t. I won’t,” you’re being petulant, you know are, but he’s the one person you’re allowed to be childish about, just as he is with you. 

“You won’t, huh?” He wasn’t used to be treated like this — as fragile, as something that’s fleeting, that could slip from fingers as easily as everyone else did. Even as you touched his, fingers tracing the curve of his jaw with the most delicate of touches, as if he’d shatter under your touch, “I don’t think we get a say in that, sweets, unless you had secret meetings with a god I don’t know about,” 

“Satoru—“ 

“Don’t worry I won’t get too jealous—“ and you cover his mouth, yanking him close by his scarf, your forehead pressed to his shoulder. 

“I love you, you absolute idiot, you know that right?” And you feel his lips curl ever so slightly against your fingers, before he presses a soft kiss to your palm, easing it from his mouth, “I love you, I love you so much,” 

“I love you too,” he presses his forehead to yours, “I’ll come back to you, but even if I don’t…I’ll always be with you, you can’t get rid of me, even in death,” 

“Promise?” And he kisses you, soft and languid, thumb rubbing back and forth against your speak. 

“Promise.” 

And Satoru Gojo was never one to break his promises. 

~~~~

Except now. 

The slice cut through the silence of the battlefield with the wet squelch of flesh and blood, followed by two thumps, one soon after the other. 

No, no. This wasn’t true. It wasn’t. It wasn’t. 

It couldn’t be. 

He promised he would come back. He promised he’d live. He promised. 

He can’t leave like this. No, he can heal himself, he can save himself, couldn’t he? RCT like he did before with Toji. And for your eyes flickered around the room, no one could meet your gaze, none except Shoko, who saw the question in your eyes and only frowned before shaking her head, lit cigarette snapping in half as he held it too tight. 

“No, no—“ you didn’t even realize you said the words out loud before you felt everyone’s eyes on you suddenly, before you felt something, a flicker of his cursed energy and you snapped. 

“Ui ui, take me with you,” Kashimo was already on his way to the battlefield, a lightning flash to death’s door, with no fear. 

Yuta says your name softly, “I don’t know if that’s a good—“ your eyes snap to his hard. 

“You have your plans, Yuta, and I have my own, this isn’t a matter of discussion,” you step over to Ui Ui, seeing Yuta’s hands curl into fists, vision averted, “I’m not ready to give up on him,” 

And in a second, you’re in the middle of the battlefield, dust clearing as the distant noises of fighting rings in your ears, but you barely register it, no, not when wind rolls and you see him. 

“Satoru,” 

You’re at his side in an instant, your fingers running over his cheek, the heat leaving his body, cold creeping in, but as your fingers graze his, a quiet murmur of his name, and you see his eyes flutter. 

And it’s immediate. You look to Ui Ui, as your hands are placed on either side of his split body, palms spread against his body, “Take us to Shoko, he’s alive.” 

~~~~

Satoru Gojo was never one to lose. 

But he supposed if he had to lose to anyone, it might as well be the king of curses. But he knows he didn’t really loose, as he watches the snow fall above him, wondering if the cold against his skin was the snow or if it was something else entirely. 

Was this what it was like for Suguru? Is this what he saw? The winter sky, or was it him knelt beside him as his life left his body. 

Maybe he’ll ask him when he goes back, when he sees everyone again. 

And then he hears it — your voice, the quiet murmur of his name, and the brush of your hand against his.  

No, no, he can’t leave. Not if he can help it. Not when you’re here. 

He feels your cursed energy flood his body, the flow of cursed energy through every inch of him, as it keeps his heart beating and his brain alive — a gasp caught in his throat. 

If you want to start anew, head north. If you want to return to your old self, head south. 

There’s only one option. 

He had to head north — even if it meant — he closed his eyes — losing everything, but himself. 

But he’d have you — and that would be more than enough. 

~~~

“Are you enjoying the view?” 

Your lips curl as you stand in the doorway of your bedroom, leaning back against the doorframe, watching your husband dress himself. 

“Always do,” the floorboards creak lowly as you cross the bedroom to your husband’s side, “why do you think I married you?” 

He chuckles, “and here I thought it was because of my incredible personality,” and you snort, as your arms wrap around his middle, your fingers adjusting the obi belt around his waist, “feels like you laughed at that a little too hard, sweetheart,” 

“I just imagined how your students would react at that,” you laugh softly, as you finish adjusting his belt, only to grab his haori, a deep sky blue, as pretty as he is,  “pretty sure they’d disagree, especially after the stunt you pulled—“

And of course, the stunt you were referring to was him coercing you push a box out to his students, only for him to pop out. 

“How many chances would I have to do that? Plus, it was hilarious — did you see their faces?” And you scoff, shaking your head, “Plus, I figured it would be less shocking this way. Surprising them this way changes the focus from what happened to right now,” 

You helped him pull the haori on, guiding his arms in one sleeve and then another, “I think you just being alive was enough of a shock,” you kiss his palm, pressing it against your face. 

And his lips curl, “Well I made a promise didn’t I?” His other hand reaches for you, finding your waist and tugging you close, “and I never break a promise, especially when it comes to my beautiful wife,” 

“Can you call me that yet? We still haven’t had the ceremony yet,” he shakes his head. 

“This is only a formality, something to appease the elders and keep the idea of a clan war at bay,” he scoffs, shaking his head, before shrugging, “but it isn’t so bad,” 

“Why’s that?” And he smiles.  

“Because now we can have no regrets,” and your fingers trace upwards over his face, the scars from his battle bumpy as your fingers run over his soft skin, fingers reaching the blindfold over his left eye, before pushing it up — his cerulean blue eye now a milky white, “except maybe being able to marry you with both eyes,” 

“Like you said, we were already married,” your thumb runs over his shut eye gently, “this is just a formality,”

He leans into your touch, nuzzling your hand, before his arms pull you flush against him, “Then can we be late?” And his lips lean down to press a heated kiss to your neck, voice reverberating against your skin, “because I’d like to enjoy my wife before I have to share her with everyone else,” 

“Toru—“ a soft gasp cuts you off, as his hands slide down your sides to cup your ass, fingers squeezing, “we can’t—“ 

“Oh what will they do? Start without us?” And your resistance is waning as his lips start trailing kisses down your neck, tugging at your kimono if only to pull the fabric down your shoulders, “I promise I’ll be fast,” 

“Last time you promised that, we didn’t even make it out the door—“ and his fingers are already undoing your obi, before sliding up and underneath the silk material, thighs parting under his touch, “god—“ 

“You don’t have to call me ‘god,’ sweetheart,” and his fingers toy with your panties, “look at my wife,” and he’s tilting your gaze to make you look at yourself in the mirror again, “perfect,” 

“Just like my husband,” and his lips curl. 

“Even now?” And your fingers cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze — no longer the look of the strongest or the gaze of the six eyes — just the eyes of your husband, Satoru Gojo. The very gaze he’ll use to look to the future. 

“Especially now.”  

✧ a/n: welcome to the first kinktober fic!! sorry it took a bit T_T. i've been super busy with work and i keep getting sick in weird ways. last week i got hives and this week, my stomach is being a jerk. but i hope you guys enjoyed :) i think the next fic may be 'a cult classic' or 'scream (only for me)' so look forward to that!! thank you to @coffee-and-geto and @gaylatteart for betaing!

✧ taglist: @risuola , @riamallow , @montilyetron , @saccharinesatoru , @notgoodforlife , @aerithsthingss , @satorusmochis , @silvarys , @oracle014 , @jimabenamara , @seijakuu00 , @erwinawesomeness , @staryukis , @idiotgojo , @torubug , @theshylittleelfgirl , @mitsuristoleme , @forest-hashira , @aishies-stuff , @midnaamethyste , @fiannee , @paperstarsthings , @satosuguwifee , @kachntos @meow-satoru , @rowaelinsdaughter , @emonaculate , @hojoslutoru , @strawberry1042 , @fairiesthrum , @shoyosdoll , @gladiatorgladiator , @tojis-ball-sack , @astraecea-silversin , @sleazymac-n-cheesy , @wakashudou , @cstandsforchaos , @yuminako , @zetianzz , @dazailover1900 , @sunamatic , @euphorism , @satowooo , @hawkwithsocks

[slapmeshigaraki]

⭒˚‧ ⭒ཐིཋྀ "Only nice girls get treats." ཐིཋྀ⭒ ‧˚⭒

♡ warnings: caleb x fem!reader, (18+ mdni), reader is insecure, fingering, dirty talk, pussy eating, begging, crying, dumbification, heavy praise, denial, spit, finger sucking, hair pulling, pussy slapping, mirror

♡ a/n: little treat for the middle of the week. been working on this one for a while so it got a little long,, so sorry. finished this instead of writing my research paper,, butttttt i love writing for caleb so i hope u enjoy xx

You're taking a lot longer than usual to get ready. Nothing seems to be fitting right, every outfit looking worse than the last. Maybe you should just stay home tonight, or maybe, you Caleb needs to remind you just how beautiful his girl is.

“Hey, did you need me to iron something for you? I was gonna’ do my shirt, so—” You listened, turning towards the bathroom door as the honeyed voice came to a halt. There he was, leaning against the wooden door frame, muscled torso on full display, dog tag draped around his neck and glistening in the dim lighting, a white collared dress shirt draped over his shoulder. His pants were held up by a fine leather belt that hung loosely around his hips, the buckle undone. The smell of his cologne wrapped around you, notes of cedarwood and lavender softly calming your otherwise hectic state. The bathroom was a mess, makeup brushes strewn about on the marble countertop, clothes and bras and panties thrown in the corner, heels that didn't match were all over the floor, making for a minefield of a space that you'd been moving around for the last two hours.

“No, I’m good. Thanks.” His brow furrowed at the abnormally dry response, violet eyes studying you as you frantically hurried around the small space, makeup and hair both half done. The dress that he’d seen you in only five minutes earlier was balled up near a pile of purses on the tiled floor now, your skin only covered by a matching black lace set. He was almost drooling at the sight, opting to bite his full bottom lip to keep himself from doing so.

“Everything okay, baby?” His tone was cautious, testing the temperature of the water. You didn’t bother to meet his gaze, too busy wracking your brain to put together a different outfit—or maybe you needed to change your hair? Should you even bother going at all? Maybe you should suddenly pretend to have a stomachache.

“I’m fine, just rushed.” Another short answer.

“There’s no rush, sugar. They can’t start without us after all.” You gave him a soft laugh, brushing off the comment, but he was right. This night was about him after all—a ceremony awarding him for his accomplishments with the fleet this past year. He’d been going over his speech with you tirelessly every day for the last week, picking apart every line one by one until it was perfect. This was Caleb’s night, so why were you the one feeling so much pressure?

“Hey, look at me for a second.” You did, eyes meeting his in the mirror as you ran another coat of red lipstick over your bottom lip, suddenly questioning the color.

“You can tell me if something's wrong ya’ know. We don’t have to go.” You shook your head in dismissal, breaking the eye contact that was quickly making something well up in your chest, tears stinging in the corner of your eyes against your will.

“Of course we have to go, Caleb. I’m going—I want to go, I’m just trying to hurry up.”

“What was wrong with the last dress? Or the four before that?” He wasn’t teasing but genuinely asking you as he searched for your attention in the mirror again, to no avail. A single tear fell from your eye, effortlessly ruining your makeup, a line of foundation erased as you tried not to let anymore escape.

“They just weren’t right. Nothing is fitting right for some reason.” He wasted no time moving over to you, shirt falling to the floor in the process, but he didn’t care. His eyes were locked on you, noticing the way your face slowly crumpled, head hanging as if there was a thousand-pound weight holding you down.

“Don’t cry, baby. Hey, hey, shh…” His arms wrapped around you, toned chest pressing into your back, the warmth of his skin inescapable as he held you as tightly as he could. Your body gently shook against him as you let the tears fall freely now, the thought of ruining Caleb’s night making your heart even heavier.

“You could wear a burlap sack and you’d still be the most beautiful thing in any room, you know that, right? Why are you being so mean to my pretty girl, hm?” His soft palm snaked it’s way across your chest and neck, cupping your wet cheek, sticking your skin to his. He gently guiding your chin up, your reflection staring back at his now.

“Tell me what you didn’t like about the pink dress.” You subconsciously shrunk against him at the question, the visual of your bare skin against him, only covered by the thin pieces of fabric sending shivers down your spine. The little hairs on the back of your neck stood up, ears growing hot—you were so vulnerable like this.

“Be honest with me this time. Please,” he said, voice thick and syrupy like molasses, almost like he was begging as he craned his head down, resting his chin in the crook of your neck and pressing a feather-light kiss to your face.

“My- my shoulders…they looked too wide in it.” His eyes grew big at the confession before they shifted down in the mirror, locking onto your shoulders. He left another kiss on your cheek, then your jaw, next your neck, trailing them across your collar bone before his full lips finally lingered against the back of your shoulder. Your head slowly fell again, before you heard his voice,

“Don’t look away, sugar.”  You watched his slender fingers graze across your skin, faintly dancing over your shoulder blades along with his lips which were still peppering kissing over your frame. Your breath hitched at the sight of his body against yours, his tall and muscular physique towering over you, making you look so fragile in his grasp.

“What was wrong with the red outfit, hm? I think I liked that one the best.” Your eyes rolled at the question which Caleb caught in the mirror. You hated the way you looked in the red dress. The outfit accentuating every curve, the short length hugging your thighs just a little too tightly. You felt so… naked in that dress—every flaw you’d seen in the mirror on full display in that gown.

“My body just doesn’t look good in it.”

“Your body looks amazing in anything. If I didn’t think I’d want to break the bones of any man that looked, I’d suggest you go just like this.” His eyes were not the same when they met yours this time. They were dark, pupils enlarged, darkening his irises. He looked hungry at the sight of you, like a vampire that hadn’t fed in weeks. His lips watered at the thought of devouring you, getting to see sweat glistening on your bare chest, nipples hardened under his rough fingertips, back arched as he pressed himself into you. The thing he loved the most though was your faces, your bottom lip almost bleeding from how hard your teeth grinded against it as you tried to silence your moans, tears welling up at the corners of your eyes that were desperate to escape once he hit just the right spot inside of your soft walls. Your face and body were the things he dreamed about in his sleep, but they were also what would keep him up at night while you were away. They were the things that made him fist his cock, eyes shut tight as he pictured the artwork known as his girl. He was ravenous for you—always, so why couldn’t you see what he did? Why didn’t the lamb understand what made the lion so hungry for it; what made him hunt day and night just for a taste.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his clothed cock hardened against you. He didn’t grind into you like you wanted, his focus instead on getting his fingers on every inch of you. Your gaze fell again, embarrassment heating your cheeks at the sight of his digits languidly sliding underneath the cups of your bra.

“I won’t tell you again. Look up.” You did. You core grew wetter, dampening the fabric of your panties at the contact.

“You know…” His free hand ghosted over your spine, causing you to shiver at his touch as he unclasped your bra, freeing your flesh. A small moan escaped his lips at the reveal, his fingers quickly found your breasts, large hands cupping them, much to his enjoyment.

“I’d kill anyone who talked bad about you. I would never let anyone speak about my girl the way that you do.” A harsh pinch to your nipple forced your chest to push out towards the mirror, your perfect French manicure gripping the edge of the marble countertop. The sight was absolutely sinful.

“So why do you think that you should be the exception, huh? Do you think you’re above the rules?” Caleb rolled your sensitive nipples between his fingers, reveling in the way you writhed beneath his touch.

“No…” You whined, head slowly falling forward at the sensation, you body going limp against his.

“No? Apologize then.” His voice was harsh suddenly, as you felt your muscles give way, gaze being forced back to the mirror against your will as he used his evol against you. He did say he wouldn’t ask again, instead, he would make you look.

“I-I’m sorry,” It was barely audible, strained out between your soft moans as you pushed your ass against the man behind you, unabashedly wanted to feel some sort of friction between your thighs.

“No no no, not to me. Apologize to my baby, hm?  Look at her and say you’re sorry for being mean.” You tried to turn your head away at the humiliating request, but it was no use, you were practically immobilized between his arms. You looked at yourself in the mirror, body laid bare, chest heaving, ass grinding against Caleb like a bitch in heat.

“I’m sorry for being mean.”

“Aww how nice. See I knew you could be sweet. You always listen so well, my obedient pretty girl.” His right hand left your chest feeling cold as his middle and index fingers found themselves pressed against your lips.

“Get 'em wet for me, baby. Go ahead, it’s okay.” So you listen—you let your lips part, sucking his fingers between them, running your tongue in circles around his knuckles as he slides them in and out of your mouth. “Fuck… you look so good.”

“You want my fingers somewhere else? Been grinding this pussy against me like you need something. Do you want me to make you feel good, hm? Will that make my pretty girl stop crying?” He was mocking you, reveling in the way you squirmed against him as he pressed your hips into the counter.

“Caleb… please,” You said, words muffled by his thick fingers pushing down against your tongue, your saliva dripping halfway down his arm at this point.

“But you’re so mean, baby. Only nice girls get treats. Are you gonna be nice from now on? Gonna' treat my pretty girl better?” He watched as your reflection nodded up and down, pretty little eyes closed tightly, nose scrunched up like a bunny. He was in awe at this sight—he almost wanted to give you your reward without making you work for it...almost.

“Answer me, baby. C’mon, be good for me… please,” His words were strained, like he was getting off just as much as you were without him even being touched. It made your knees buckle a little beneath you, forcing your limp fingers to grip around his forearm, desperately searching for some stability.

“Yes yes I’ll be nice. I promise. Just touch me please.” With that, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, your spit glistening around his digits as they traveled slowly down your body, leaving you painted in your own wetness.

“You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen, you know that?” He pressed a soft kiss to your neck as his wet fingers slid beneath the waistband of your panties.

“Fuck this pussy’s so wet already. I can feel your little clit’s already excited, she’s so swollen. Aw, does it hurt, baby?” His muscled thigh forced its way between your legs, spreading them wider as his fingers lightly toyed with your most sensitive spot, soaked fingers rubbing on each side of your clit. Your hole clenched around nothing, juices spilling out against the fabric, desperately wanting to be filled—hungry.

“Look so pretty when you don’t get what you want though. Maybe this is all you should get, huh? After all, mean girls shouldn’t be rewarded, should they?” You squirmed even more at his words, trying to force his fingers to move faster or press against you harder—something. Caleb was having none of it though, his big hand gripping your waist, pinning you still. Whines fell from between your lips at the denial.

“Didn’t you just say you would be good? Were you lying to me again or does this messy hole between your legs make it so you can’t think straight? Don’t tell me my fingers barely touching you makes you this dumb, sugar. That’s cute… but a little pathetic, don’t you think?” He sloppily kissed your skin between words, teeth nipping against the flesh, tongue lapping at your wounds only to bite into you again.

“I guess you can’t think. Is that it? You need me to tell you what to do, hm?” You nodded uncontrollably, that heavy weight moving your muscles against your will once again.

“My pretty girl with the sloppy cunt. Say it.” His thumb found your clit now, hovering over it, just barely touching the aching button… but it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough until you did what he told you to.

“Caleb please…”

“No more whining. If you’re not saying what I told you to then you shouldn’t be speaking at all. Say you’re my pretty girl.” He freed your waist, certain that you wouldn’t disobey when he had you like this—so pliable. His hand made it’s way to your half-undone hair now, gripping it, as he pushed your face closer to the mirror, your body bent over the sink, reflection painfully close.

You said it… but not the way he wanted you to. Your eyes were on him, words barely audible, attitude palpable through the statement. Without warning the warmth of his fingers on your cunt was quickly gone as he slipped his fingers out of your panties to deliver a swift slap to your clit over the fabric. You screamed out at the painful sensation, which only resulted in another smack against your cunt.

“Do it the right way. Look at my girl while you tell her she’s pretty and mean it.”  You looked at your reflection, chest bare, sweat staining your skin, hair messy from the way Caleb’s fingers gripped it forcing you not to look away. Your eyes were glazed over, lipstick smudged onto your chin—you were a mess, but you said it.

“I- I’m your pretty girl.” Not even a second passed after the words left your lips before Caleb slid the crotch of your panties to the side, fingers pressing all the way against you now. His middle finger, still wet from the impromptu blowjob you’d given it, made it’s way into your tight hole inch by inch.

“See what happens when you’re not a fucking brat? Don’t you know that only good girls get what they want?” You nodded, your head feeling fuzzy as his thick finger forced itself between your walls, its length allowing him to brush against your g-spot with hardly any effort.

“Say it again.” You did, looking yourself in the eyes once more.

“That’s right. You’re my pretty girl who listens so well. My god you are fucking prefect.” You were rewarded with another finger amongst the praise, but he hadn’t touched your clit again. He knew that the second he did, you would fall apart in his arms. He just wasn’t quite done playing with you yet.

“Aw my baby gets so fucking dumb when her holes get filled. How cute… you having trouble with your words again? What is it, sugar? Come on, tell me, you can do it.” His lips were so close to your ear as he spoke, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. His tone was sweet, slightly higher in pitch, as if he were calling out for a stray dog to come eat a treat out of his palm. The condescending sound made you whine out once again, just like a puppy would.

“Aww am I not giving you what you want? Am I being mean to you?” His fingers quickened as he watched you pant, your palms flattened out against the mirror as he rocked you back and forth against his hand.

“Caleb please touch me.”

“I’m already touching you silly girl? What is it, did you want a kiss?” The thought of getting to feel his lips on yours as his fingers fucked harder into you, his tongue lapping at yours, brought more tears to your eyes.

“Yes. Please ‘wanna kiss so bad.” He pushed your head closer to your reflection, until your lips were only a millimeter from the mirror,

“Go on then. Give her a kiss—such a pretty girl deserves a kiss.” His cock ached in his pants against you as he watched it—the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen so desperate for his fingers that she was kissing herself in the mirror just because he’d said so.

“Goood girl. Good job being so sweet. Tell her you’re sorry again for hurting her feelings.” His thumb finally nudged against your clit again, slowly rubbing small little circles around it. The stimulation made you cry once more as he found just the right rhythm to keep you on the edge as apologies flowed from your lips.

“You must be getting close, beautiful. This little pussy is grippin’ on my fingers so tight. She doesn’t wanna let me go. Do you need to cum, baby?”

“Yes yes wanna cum so bad for you.”

“Aw I know I know. It’s okay. I’ll stop being mean to you since you’ve been so sweet. Tell me where you wanna cum, sugar.” The question only made you squeeze him tighter, your sloppy hole clenching and spasming around his fingers and you pressed your lips to the mirror once more, leaving little red kiss marks all over the reflection of your face. Your hips free now, you pushed into his cock again, grinding against the fabric of his pants, leaving an even bigger wet spot than before.

“No no no, you can’t have my cock. This is about you, just wanna make you feel good, yeah?” You whined louder at the denial, your voice trembling as you shook from your sobs.

“Don’t cry anymore, baby. I’ll do you one better yeah?” He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, despite the fight your hole tried to put up in keeping him inside. His hand’s grip on your hair was gone, but not before he used it to force you to turn towards him for the first time. He lowered himself to his knees, rough hands gently grabbing your thigh as he placed it over his shoulder.

“You are a fucking goddess,” he whispered as he brought his mouth between your legs, placing tiny kisses on the inside of your thighs. “Shouldn’t I pay my respects?” He wasted no more time getting his tongue on your cunt, pushing your lips apart as he savored your juices in his mouth. Your fingers tangled into his hair now, pushing your hips into his face as he gripped your thigh even tighter making you moan out at the mix of pain and pleasure. You were already so close, the feeling of Caleb suckling on your puffy clit, the rhythm just how he knew you liked it, made you beg to cum once more in no time.

“So fucking gorgeous, grinding on my tongue. Go on, say it one more time for me. Say you’re my pretty girl. Say you’ll never be mean to yourself again and I’ll let you cum for me.” He looked up at you as the words spilled out of your mouth just like he said, the look on your face intoxicating as you screamed out his name.

“Gooood girl you can cum for me. C'mon pretty girl, cum in my mouth, it’s okay. You earned it.” He held you still, tongue continuing to harass your poor little clit as you writhed above him. Your legs gave out, quivering as he continued to lick up the mess you’d made.

“Don’t worry, baby. I got you. Keep cumming for me, let it all out,” he said, voice sweet once again as he steadied you with his hands and you rode out the rest of your orgasm.

“You did so good. I’m so proud of you.” He pressed one more kiss to your clit, as you finished coming down, your body finally feeling steady in his arms. He stood up, towering over you once again, face wet with your juices as he held your fingers between his. His other hand cupped your face, thumb softly wiping away your tears.

“I love you more than anything and I want you to know that you have nothing to be insecure about. Even if you’re not feeling your best, you can always talk to me and I’ll remind you of just how beautiful you are. Okay?” You nodded, looking up at him with big eyes, your heart hurting in your chest from how full it felt in that moment.

“I love you, Caleb.”

“I can tell because you let me ruin your makeup when we only have…” He glanced over at my phone on the countertop, “thirty minutes before the car gets here.”

“Thirty minutes?” You shouted out, pushing against Caleb’s chest.

“You’ll be fine. I’ll make them wait,” he said, reaching down to pick up the white dress shirt that had been previously discarded onto the floor. 

“And hey, put on that red dress. I’ll need something pretty to look at while everyone else is droning on about how great I am.” You rolled your eyes, letting out a laugh that perfectly harmonized with his as you threw the balled up dress towards him.

“Now you’ll have to iron them both.” He hummed in acceptance, violet irises glimmering at the sight of you.

“Anything for you, gorgeous.”

[shellshocklove]

moanin' & groanin' | logan howlett

pairing/AU: lumberjack!logan howlett/wolverine x inexperienced!female!reader

summery: working for your father's timber business isn't what you saw yourself doing, but when the wolverine comes looking for work it's suddenly not so bad – especially when he can teach you a thing or two.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap (in the way that his mutant abilities prolongs his life), swearing, use of pet names, smut, car sex, praise, a little dacryphilia, logan's got a dirty mouth, soft dom!logan, a little size kink (basically logan has a big dick), handjob, fingering, a little manhandling, unprotected sex (don't do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: um hi! this is my first ever logan fic. i really hope i got him right! not beta read, and barely edited so any mistakes are my own. happy reading! <3

main masterlist / ao3

The pages crinkled under your fingertips as you turned another page. Over the top of your book you could see your father's men milling about, getting the timber ready for another outgoing truck. Day in and day out they worked like flannel-covered ants. 

He wasn't here, your father, leaving you to hold down the fort, or office to be precise, as he  ran errands. "I'll be back before lunch," he'd told you, a hand passing through the sleeve of his tan Carhartt.

The office felt bigger when he wasn't here, like his neuroticism took up twice as much space as he did himself. You looked around the room. It was small, more like a hut than anything else, raised up on cinderblocks. A tiny kitchen lined the front wall, the refrigerator had given out once this month already and something smelled like it had died in there, the white florescent light under the wall cabinets gave you a headache, and the tap drip drip dripped. The table and the mismatched chairs, your father had found at a fleamarked years ago, before you were born most likely, and they wore the wear and tear of years of use. 

Every available surface was covered in papers, and the wooden shelves on the wall dipped in the middle from the weight of the binders. When you were little you'd been afraid the wood would break in two, but they were still standing (hanging?) – maybe they'd stay like that for the rest of eternity for all you knew. Your father's office had only one desk, which made your job as occasional office manager and full-time problem solver, problematic. 

Your father would sit in his chair on one side, while you'd steal one of the mismatched chairs and occupy the other end. If you'd had your way, you wouldn't be working here. The timber business interested you just as much as your father was interested in the disco they played on the radio. "If it ain't the king of rock I don't want to hear it," he usually said and switched the channel. 

But the town was small, and no one was hiring. The summer after you'd finished high school you'd dreamt of moving to the city, but the money had been tight and your father needed you. At least the work, if your father didn't meddle, was relatively easy: answer the phone, type out the invoices and salaries, keep an eye on logistics, and make sure whatever breaks gets fixed. 

The radio hummed at a low volume, one of the singles from Tapestry, as you turned another page of your book. Leaning back in your father's office chair, you glanced at the clock over the door. He should be back by now. Just as the thought crossed your mind, the door swung open.

"Did you need something?" you asked, your book dipping down in your lap. 

Logan raised an eyebrow at you as he walked into the office on heavy steps, that damn cigar hanging out the side of his mouth. "Nice to see you too, princess," he poked jokingly, tugging at his gloves, one finger at a time, and tucking them into his leather belt. 

He sported the same outfit he usually wore; bootcut jeans, a white t-shirt under his flannel and a thicker wool-lined jacket. He must've been sweating in here with that on.

Autumn had claimed the trees and ground months ago, but this morning the frost had covered the ground and bit at the apples of your cheeks. Your breath had come out in swirling plumes when you'd locked yourself in this morning; the first glints of the sun peeking through the windows as it rose over the mountains. The first thing you'd done was crank the heater, and now as you approached midday, you'd shed your sweater long ago while the windows had fogged with condensation. 

The smallest of frowns tugged at your brows, as a heat prickled up your neck to your cheeks. Logan made you a little nervous– not in a bad way, but in a way where your thoughts would wander in his presence, conjuring up scenarios of him and yourself in… comprising positions. Okay, maybe it was in a bad way. But who could blame you when he walked around like that?

He'd arrived only a few months ago, at the tail end of the summer, looking for work. He was strong, stronger than any of the other men working for your father, and although the work was hard, it seemed like he never tired. You didn't know much about him and he kept mostly to himself, hidden away in a cabin up in the mountain, but sometimes you'd see him down at the local bar, nursing a glass of whiskey in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. More than once you'd seen him chatting up Kayla Silverfox, and more than once you'd wished it was you in her place.

"Oof," Logan groaned as he opened the fridge, grabbing his packed lunch and closing it as fast as he could. You appreciated him for that; whatever had died in there should stay in there.

"Yeah," you said, "I'm not cleaning that again, not even for a million bucks."

"Can't blame ya." 

He looked to the table for a second where the guys usually ate their lunches, before he decided to take your usual chair at your father's desk. As he sat down, you pushed the ash tray to his side of the desk, earning you a short smile in thanks as he rested his cigar. It wasn't unusual for him to talk to you on his breaks. 

So, why did you heart beat so fast in your chest?

Because it was the first time you'd been alone.

"So, where's your old man?" he asked and bit into the sandwich he'd packed in an old newspaper.

"Running errands– he should be back soon…" you trailed off.

Logan hummed non-committedly. "So, you're in here sittin' pretty readin' your book while we're out in the cold slavin' away– maybe I should become the boss' daughter."

"Well, it's not easy," you sighed, feigning confidence, "and you gotta be pretty first of all," you front teeth dug into your bottom lip as you tried to hide your nervousness.

"That's true," he grinned, "I ain't got nothin' on you, princess."

Logan held your gaze with intent, and it was like something in the air shifted. It happened sometimes with Logan, like he had this power beaming from him that sucked you in. Erratic wings fluttered in your stomach, and you had to drop your gaze.

"So, how's the book?" he asked, taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Eh," you shrugged, dog-earing the page your were on, before throwing the beat-up paperback on the table. "Too many plot twists– first they're on earth, then there's this virus spreading– so they have to move all of humanity to the moon, but then there's this species that lives under the surface of the moon who they start a war with, but one of the main characters are in love with a moonie– that's what they call them– so, now they're in love and trying to stop the war and…" you shrugged again.

Logan chewed slowly as he nodded his head. "Sounds complicated," he decided, making you let out a small laugh.

"I guess so."

A grin washed over Logan's face at your small laugh, and you felt his gaze roll over you, over your exposed skin. When he looked at you like that, like a predator drooling for a meal, you felt a small damp spot stick to your panties. You watched as his nostrils widened, his jaw clenching shut as a pulsing vein protruded from his neck.

"So, science fiction," he started, clearing his throat, "Didn't know you liked that," he continued between the last bites of his sandwich

"Some kid at the library recommended it," you shrugged, "so I thought I'd try it out. And it's not like it's that far from the truth– we've got mutants."

Logan crumbled the newspaper hard and quick, the sharp sound making you jump. "Yeah," he said, and stood to his feet, "That's true."

He grabbed his burnt out cigar, and threw the ball of newspaper in the trash. You started to wonder if you'd said something wrong, but then he said, "Your father's back," and not even a second later you could see your dad's old truck pull up outside the window.

How did he even know that? 

"Logan– wait," the words just fell out of your mouth before you could even think them through. He hovered by the door, raising a questioning eyebrow at you. 

You could be brave– Just say it! 

"Come by later would you? Before you leave for the day– I have something for you."

A gush of cold air blew in with the arrival of your father. He almost crashed right into Logan on his way out, nearly knocking him down the wooden steps. You thought you could glimpse a small nod from Logan, but he was out the door so fast you couldn't be sure. 

The rest of the day went by slowly as a growing anxiety gnawed at your neck. With your dad back you slipped out to borrow the car, driving into town to pick up some lunch at the local diner. It was routine at this point, something you did without thinking, but today your thoughts couldn't stay still. You were pulling up outside the office when you realized you'd driven the whole way with the radio off.

What was even your plan? 

You wished you were better at this. You could pretend, sure, put on a brave face to hide the nerves from surfacing, but how do you get a man like that to go for a girl like you?

You felt non the wiser when the sun had dipped below the mountains and he finally knocked on the office door. Your dad had left thirty-minutes earlier, stranding you at work with no way to get home. 

If this didn't go well, you didn't look forward to walking home.

"What 's it you wanted, princess," Logan asked, leaning against the frame of the door with one knee popped. Your eyes couldn't help but run down the length of him – his broad shoulders, the bulge hidden below his big belt buckle, and the veins of his exposed arms as he slung his jacket over his shoulder.

"Oh, um," you tried to shake your thoughts, and you rummaged the desk for the envelope. "Here," you said as you found it, stretching your hand out for him to take it.

He pushed off the door frame with a raised eyebrow, the cold air from the open door taking with it the warmth of the office. "What's this?" he questioned, taking the envelope from your hand. 

"It's your check– for this month's work," you explained.

His raised eyebrow pulled into a frown, "This is a week early," he questioned, "and I usually get these sent in the mail."

"Oh, I-I just thought I'd give it to you personally this time," you lied, fitting a shrug at the end for good measure, trying to sell how completely normal and nonchalant you were.

Logan raised a skeptic eyebrow at you, and you suddenly felt really really stupid. In your chest your heart could compete with a hummingbird's.

"Really?" he said with a smile before he dropped his chin, "Can I appreciate a little extra something in here, or…?" he trailed off, waving the envelope.

Letting out a shaky inaudible breath, you tried in your flirtiest voice, "Maybe if you give me a ride home…"

...................

The lights from the town below looked like stars scattered over the night sky, the yellow light of the roads connected them like on a string. You knew that Logan knew where you lived; the town was small, and even with the short time he'd spent here, it wasn't hard to get familiar. He'd stopped at the lookout point, about half-way up the mountain road. It was nice in the daytime, with a nice view of the town, the mountain and rivers, but at night it attracted a different kind of crowd: lovers. It was cheesy, and cliché, but clichés were clichés for a reason. 

The Led Zeppelin tape whirled, and the music stopped. 

Suddenly you felt nervous, fingers picking at a loose tread on your sweater. Logan leaned forward to flip the cassette, and his truck filled with a sound of organ, like you were back in church. When he leaned back he slung his arm over your seat. You watched how he spread his legs, getting comfortable, as his eyes found your face.

Under the wool, your heart picked up its beat.

In a brave move you shifted closer, the leather seat moaning under you, as a pleased smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His big palm snaked around your shoulder, curling you closer to him until his lips caught your own. You only hesitated for a second before your hand found his neck, where your fingers tugged lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck. 

A low growl huffed against your lips, and he deepened the kiss, pressing himself roughly against you as he licked into your mouth. You couldn't help the small whimper escaping you. His touch was rough, almost impatient, but tender all at the same time, and you felt yourself fall apart.

The air stuck to your skin, clammy and sticky with arousal and now you started to get impatient. With a loud smack you broke apart, your lips raw and spent from use as you caught your breath. A rough hand cupped your cheek, the pad of his thumb skated gently over your skin as he tilted your head towards him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he mused. His eyes had gone dark, pupils huge and filled with lust; yours must've looked about the same as they rolled down his body. He shifted closer to you, pushing you closer to the door, and you got a better view of the bulge hidden behind his jeans.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, clogging up the sounds around you like you were underwater, pushing at your thoughts at the back of your mind. Logan moved with such ease, each touch natural and easy, like he'd done them a thousand times. Not like you, with only your short-lived high school boyfriend under your belt. 

"Hey," he shook your head gently, "Where you goin', bub?"

"I'm sorry," you whispered, a heat coating the apples of your cheeks. 

He shook his head, his face surprisingly tender for someone so rough, "Tell me, baby."

"I'm just…" you trailed of, trying to find your words, "I'm a little nervous– I haven't done this much," you said, avoiding his gaze.

"That's sweet, bub." The pad of his thumb rubbed the pet name into your skin as he leaned forward to catch your lips in a soft kiss, "But I wouldn't worry that pretty little head of yours 'bout it."

His breath was hot against your own, and an ache started to spread between your legs. The hand on your cheek travelled downwards to tug at your jacket, and you parted only for a second to rid yourself of it, but before you could lock your lips with his again he grabbed at your hands.

"I'll teach ya," he told you and guided your hands to his broad form. 

He let you touch him as he shucked off his jacket, your fingers dancing over the soft flannel. He was solid beneath your fingers, hard muscles from hard work. A patch of dark hair curled at his chest, peeking out beneath his white shirt, and you found yourself wondering where it lead.

Curling his hand around your wrist, he guided your hand lower; down over his chest where you could feel the solid form of him. His bronze belt buckle burned you like ice, but the heat of him as he pressed your hand to the hard bulge beneath the buckle burned even brighter.

"You feel that?" He looked you straight in the eyes. He pressed your hand down harder and you could feel the shape of him against your hand, hard and thick, and big. You barely managed a nod through the wave of heat coating your cheeks. 

"That's because of you, princess." His voice was low, almost like a growl, as he started to guide your hand to rub over the thick length.

"Me?" you questioned, breathless. 

"Yes, you," he chuckled, a heavy hand petting at your head. "D'you want to take it out? Stroke it f'me?"

"Please," you begged, looking at him with moony eyes through your lashes.

"So polite f'me," he mused, his hands tugging at his belt before he popped the button on his jeans. Slipping off your shoes, you crawled up into the seat, sitting back on your knees as you watched him pull at his jeans. Peeking out from under the denim, you could see a dark patch of hair.

Logan was in no rush, revealing only an inch at a time of the base of his cock, making a show of it as the tension rose. A wave of tickling arousal washed over you, and it made you brave, reaching a trembling hand forward, you helped him tug at the fabric.

At last his cock sprung free.

You felt your eyes widen at the sight, as you involuntarily squeezed your thighs together. Even with your limited experience, you knew he was bigger than most. The thick length of his cock bobbed from the weight, hanging heavy between his legs. At the tip of his fat head, a drop of precum pearled, almost invisible in the dark truck. 

"Come here, bub." He widened his legs as he reached out a strong arm for you, curling you into his shoulder. 

"Put your hand on it," he ordered, "like this," he grabbed at your wrist and guided you hand towards his mouth. You let him move you around, eyes blown out and wide as you couldn't take your eyes off his impressive cock. 

A wet blob of spit pulled you from your thoughts, it drew the slightest frown over your face until he guided your palm, now coated in his spit, to his cock.

Under your palm his skin was silky soft, but hard and firm at the same time. You found yourself mesmerized at the sight of your hand around him as you familiarized yourself with the heaviness of him in your hand. 

"There ya go–" he cut himself off with a groan as you formed a fist around the head of him. Your fingers struggled to reach around him, but it didn't seem like Logan minded much when you moved downwards smearing his spit over his shaft in an experimental tug. 

"That's it, good girl, just like that."

A warmth bloomed in your chest at the praise, wrapping itself around your heart. You wanted him to say it again– to be good for him. So, you reached forward with your other hand, wrapping it around the base as the other formed a fist around the head. Another pearl of precum beaded at the tip, and you took the opportunity to skate your thumb over it, massaging it into his spit.

A growl seemed to get caught in Logan's throat, and still riding off your high that the praise had sown in you, you started to pump his cock in slow strokes. A slick sound escaped under your fists with each stroke, and you watched how his head fell back in pleasure.

"Am-am I doing it right?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

At the sound of your voice, Logan sat up straighter, a heavy hand falling over your back to pull you closer. "You're a natural, princess."  

You couldn't contain the smile from coating your lips as he brought you in for another searing kiss. It was hot, and suffocating, and all-consuming, all at the same time. It clouded your mind, and you forgot what your hands were supposed to be doing. 

Logan's hand travelled down your body, his big palm grabbing at your ass. "Take of your pants," he ordered against your lips, "Panties too," underlining his order with a couple of light slaps to the flesh.

Shuffling out of his hold, you fingered at the button of your pants, pulling at them and your panties as quickly as you could. Goosebumps prickled over your exposed skin, the air suddenly frosty without Logan's touch – but that didn't last long.

The calloused pads of his fingers trailed up your thighs, pressing down into the flesh as he pulled you closer to him. "Come sit in my lap, princess."

He didn't wait for you to move, instead he manhandled you how he wanted. Spreading his legs wide apart he fit you between his legs, your back pressed against his hot chest with his hard and leaking cock caged against your ass. 

"I'm gonna touch you now, baby, okay?" his deep voice whispered in your ear.

"Okay," you peeped, heart pounding in your ears at this new proximity. 

He spread your legs, putting your wet and neglected cunt on display, hooking them over his knees. When his palms danced over your inner thighs, you felt yourself sink deeper into his chest, deeper into the safe scent of pine and man. 

"Need to get you ready f'me, bub– stretch this tight cunt out for my big cock," he cooed.

You ached for him, a sticky wet feeling between your legs as you wished so badly for him to finally touch you. His touch was light, but teasing, drawing circles along the thin flesh, circling closer and closer to where you needed his touch the most, before he pulled away. 

"Please," you whined, grabbing at his arm.

His breath felt hot against your neck, and you could feel the grin he pressed against your skin. He let you guide him upwards to hover his large palm over your mound, but he wouldn't let you have it. Instead, he pushed at your sweater. His hand spread across the skin beneath your belly button as prickled goosebumps followed the rough pads as they ran across your skin.

"Y'gonna feel me right here, bub?" he teased, "So deep inside your tummy?"

A whine caught in your throat and you felt like an exposed nerve. Arousal pulsated throughout your body, threatening to pull you apart unless he did something soon. Your neglected cunt dripped with an ache only he could sooth. 

"Yes, please, Logan," you whined, tears threatening to spill.

His thick beard scraped against your cheek, and you almost trembled from anticipation as he slid his hands downwards. He raked his fingers through the curls of your mound, and a gasp fell from your lips when he finally pushed at your clit.

A wide smile reached across your face when he started to circle his fingers, tight with the perfect amount of pressure. Your hips bucked to meet his touch, your cunt eager and dripping for more of him. His other arm clasped around your middle, keeping your still and steady in his lap as he had his way with you.

A bold finger dipped lower, running through your folds and teasing at you entrance. A slick sound filled the car as he played with your cunt, circling his fingers around your hole, dipping a teasing finger inside you just to the first knuckle, before withdrawing it just as quickly. 

"Such a messy pussy," Logan murmured in your ear, the deep bass of his voice vibrating into your skin. "Listen."

The sound as he played with your pussy was obscene, lewd, and so dirty you felt a heat crawl up your chest. A breathy gasp escaped you when he finally split you on his finger, and a satisfied smile coated your lips as he started to move it inside in a steady rhythm, prodding every so often at that spongy spot inside, the spot your own finger couldn't reach.

"F-feels s-so good," you managed to stutter out. 

The heel of his palm pressed against your clit with every thrust, teasing at your insides and conjuring moan after breathy moan from your lips. He guided you closer and closer to the edge, and you wanted so badly to fall. When he pulled out to slide another finger inside you, you felt a tear roll down your cheek with satisfaction.

"I can feel that pussy clenching me– you close, bub?" he poked, never stopping his fingers.

Your head rolled back, resting heavy on his shoulder as you nodded franticly, mouth parted slightly, humming out small breathy whines. You were so close, the tension in your stomach twisting and aching for release.

But then he pulled his fingers, dragging them up over your mound leaving a wet trail in your curls. You couldn't help the disappointed sigh as more tears pressed their way down your cheeks.

"Shh," he hushed you, "you're okay, bub." 

Under you, you felt him move, his strong muscles flexing as he shifted you on his lap. When you felt the blunt head of his cock slide between your folds, an eagerness came upon you. You grinded against him, making a small chuckle rumble from his chest. Logan slapped his heavy cock against your folds, coating his big cock in your slick arousal. 

The first stretch of him knocked the breath right out of you, the fat tip of him splitting you in half as he helped you guide yourself down on him. You had to remember to breathe, your hand fumbling for something to hold on to. 

"Fuck," you whimpered, eyes wide, "I-it's so big– it's t-too big."

His hand wrapped around your middle held you in place, keeping you still on his cock as you adjusted to the first inches of him inside you. 

"It's not too big, princess, you're doing so well f'me," he praised, "just a little more, bub– you can do it."

With a wet whimper you lowered yourself, taking a couple more inches of him, as Logan pressed more fluttering praise into your skin. He let you take your time, easing yourself down on him at your own pace. When your thighs were finally flushed with his, he was so deep inside you, you jolted, trying to move back up, but Logan's hands held you down. You felt him in your tummy, like he'd said, his cock reaching so deep you were shaking.

"Sit still, get used to it," he told you, as you tried to catch your breath, "You're being so good f'me."

And somehow the burning stretch of him soothed away into a pleasurable pressure, one you couldn't help but chase. With an experimental rock of your hips, you felt the fat head of him prod at your spot, making you mewl. And when you started to swivel your hips, Logan groaned in satisfaction, meeting your movement with small thrusts.

Slowly, he picked up his rhythm, strong hands shifted to dig into your hips, holding you in place for him to move you as he wished. In your ear, you heard him growl, deep and animalistic as he fucked up into you.

It didn't take long until your breath came out fast between moans as the pressure built, and built, and built. 

"Logan," you moaned, tethering right on the edge.

Another growl escaped his chest, as his strong arms hooked under your legs. He pressed them tightly to your body as he picked up his pace, bucking wildly into your eager cunt. You could feel him throb inside of you, and you couldn't help but clench at the thought of feeling him spill inside you, claiming you.

"Don't stop, please, don't stop," you begged, tears streaming down your face like two winding rivers, "I-I'm gonna come."

A hand slid between your legs to rub at your puffy clit, coaxing you closer and closer with winding circles. 

"Come on my cock, baby, come all over that big cock."

It was hot, and blinding. Euphoric shocks pulsed through your body, as you fluttered and gushed around his cock. Logan's grip on your legs tightened as you shook violently with your orgasm – a million stars exploded behind your eyes.

"Oh, that's it, bub, such a good girl," he praised between heavy wet pants against your ear.    

Fucking you through your ecstasy, Logan chased his own high at a relentless pace, and all you could do was take it, reduced to a ragdoll in his hands. In your ear he muttered nonsense interlaced with praise, telling you how good you felt, and how perfect you were for him.

With a deep groan he pulled out quickly, tugging at himself until he spilled his thick spend on the truck floor. With bleary eyes you watched how it pumped in quick spurts, dripping down his hand and soiled the knuckles in his own sticky cum. 

Behind you, Logan breathed hard, nudging his nose against the column of your neck to press soft kisses to the hot skin. 

A pair of bright headlights beamed down the road, pulling you from the moment with its blinding light. Logan helped you shift off his lap, reaching to hand you your discarded clothes before he tucked himself back into his jeans. 

The cassette whirled in the car radio, and you couldn't remember when the music had stopped. Logan shifted back behind the wheel and an eerie silence grew in the distance between you.

"How 'bout I take you somewhere to eat?" he posed.

You smiled, "I could eat."

...................

hopefully this was okay? a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[jayparked]

traditionally nontraditional | park sunghoon

SYNOPSIS: newly married, you and your husband love creating your own...unique traditions

PAIRING: husband!sunghoon x wife!female reader

GENRE: smut

AU: established relationship, chrithmith ∩(·ω·)∩

RATING: explicit/18+, minors dni

WORD COUNT: 7.2k of pure smut baby

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, creampie, dom/sub dynamics, big dick hoon, cock abuser!hoon, oral (f. receiving), nipple play, nudes, sexy ornaments, dirty talk, slightly bratty y/n and hoon is not having it, impatient insatiable hoon, he's so down bad for his lil wifey, teasing, sex with barely any prep, size kink, mentions of size training, strong language, sunghoon cannot stop praising you for the life of him, implied oral (m. receiving), choking, pet names, begging, body worship, overstimulation, forced orgasm, punishment kink, y/n gets tied up :) they are so grossly in love i was gagging the whole time

SNAIL TRAIL: merry belated christmas! for all my freaky horny down bad sunghoon stans. this one's for you. but mostly to my favorite hoonie girl @sungbeams who not only made this incredible banner, but also beta read for me and continued to throw constant words of encouragement my way when i was struggling to write this. as always, i love you so much and everything i do is for you.

“Sunghoon…what is this?”

You’re sitting in the living room of the home you and your newly wedded husband purchased only a few months ago. Wrapping paper and gift bags are strewn throughout the room, traces of hours of opening presents together for the first time as husband and wife littered in a haphazard mess. The fireplace, which is the only lightsource in the room right now besides the ones decorated on the Christmas tree, is warming the entire room as gentle snow falls outside, colorful lights reflecting off the sparkling white substance. You’re bundled up in your favorite Christmas pajamas on the couch while Sunghoon sits in a plush recliner facing you. A proud sparkle adorns your husband’s eyes as he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees while he rubs his hands together with excited anticipation as he watches you closely.

“Do you like it? He can’t help the way his lips pull into a subtle smirk, his eyebrows quirking up on the word ‘like’. Sunghoon feels insanely proud for being able to keep this particular gift a surprise. Normally he gets too excited and has to tell you as soon as possible. There’s been quite a few birthdays and anniversaries in the past where Sunghoon hasn’t even made it out of the department store before FaceTiming you and showing you what he’s in the process of buying you. Getting a view of the department store workers side eyeing your husband as he excitingly gushes at you through the phone always warms your heart. An array of apologies always leaves his lips after telling you what he’s gotten you. If it were anyone else, you’d be slightly annoyed with the ruined surprises. But, in all honesty, you actually adored it from him. Your husband being too excited to keep a secret is just another way of him expressing his love. Plus, even if he can’t hide the larger, more extravagant things, he still finds ways to surprise you.

Like with what you have resting in your palms right now. The plastic squeaks slightly as your thumb rubs against it. Memories flood your mind, your thighs twitch, yearning to rub against one another as you lick your lips. It’s hard to ignore the dark haze in your husband’s gaze and the way his legs are spread so perfectly apart. 

Noticing your staring, Sunghoon lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly as he looks down at his hands before raising his eyes to meet yours once again. He’s waiting for your response, you know he is, and you also know that he’s patient enough to sit here for hours until you’re able to find your voice and speak just what exactly is pulsing through your mind.

And the longer you make Sunghoon wait, the more pleasure he gets from seeing you squirm beneath him later.

“I-I love it. Wow…” You gulp as you stare at the ornament in your hands, eyes unable to tear away from the polaroid Sunghoon has placed perfectly inside.

But it’s not just any polaroid.

It’s a very explicit photo of the two of you on your wedding night where you’re on your knees, throat stuffed with your newly wedded husband’s deliciously thick cock. Mascara running down your cheeks and a hint of drool dribbling down your chin is visible in the photo along with Sunghoon’s large hand gently pulling your hair back. 

“I remember that night so well,” Sunghoon grumbles as he leans back in his seat, his eyes still trailing over your body.

“I would hope you do!” you laugh, looking up at him, “Our wedding night, it was only a couple months ago after all.”

“And I don’t think I’ll ever forget it,” his gaze darkens, his arms moving to rest behind his head, “Especially the way you moaned once my dick hit the back of your throat. Or when I could see my bulge in your stomach. Or how you could still see my handprint on your ass the next morning. Or-”

“Hoon!” You laugh and toss a throw pillow towards him, which he catches easily, laughing along with you.

“Sorry. Like I said though, it’s a night I’ll never forget. And when you suggested we try to make our own Christmas traditions, well, what can I say? I was inspired.”

His smile is so genuine with a light sparkle in his eyes being reflected from the firelight. You can’t help but walk towards him, needing to be close and to feel his warmth. You’re about to lean in for a kiss when his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in until you’re sitting on his lap. But that wasn’t good enough for him. Sunghoon repositions you so that you’re cradled in his arms, your head resting beneath his collarbone. He leans down slowly, a smile blooming on his face, until your noses touch. Giggling together, you both close your eyes and move your heads back and forth, noses bumping together repeatedly in the process. The innocent moment doesn’t last long, though. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. You’re about to ask him what he’s thinking about, but before you get the chance, his soft pillowy lips are brushing against yours, his strong arms pulling you closer to his body.

The kiss seems innocent at first, full of love and tenderness as your mouths move together. But one little shift of your hips in his lap has your husband groaning, deepening the urgency of the kiss. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip and you eagerly grant him entry all while one hand cusps your cheek and the other grips your hip tighter. Your own hands can’t stay still as one dips below his shirt and wanders from his stomach up to his chest, marveling at the way his muscles feel against your palms and fingertips.

He quickly repositions you. Now, straddling his lap, his hands are free to roam down your body, exploring every curve he can. As if he hasn’t already familiarized himself with every inch of you. Continuing the kiss, he groans as you naturally grind your hips against his lap. His hands grab at your waist, quickling seating you down on him fully until you’re able to feel his cock hardening beneath you. At the feeling of friction against your clothed clit, you moan into his mouth, head tilting back slightly while you grind on him harder. Sunghoon catches your bottom lip between his teeth, growling slightly as he pulls and sucks.

Once he releases you, his mouth is attached to yours again immediately. The kisses are deep, feverish, and desperate; his tongue sloppily entering your mouth muffling any sigh or moan that was lingering within you.

Only when air is needed do you two break away. You look into his deep brown eyes and easily get lost in how lustful he appears. At the same time though, you see something in his eyes soften, complete love and admiration evident amidst the yearning.

“How about we make our second ornament, hmm?” Sunghoon smirks, nipping at your lips again. All you can do is quickly nod your head as you place your hands on his cheeks, savoring the tender moment before it’s gone. One thing about your husband is that once he gets riled up, it’s almost impossible to satiate the beast that consumes his sweet and romantic side.

“Perfect,” Sunghoon’s voice is husky with desire. Quickly, he stands up effortlessly with you still in his arms, one hand firmly placed on your back while the other holds one of your thighs. You can’t help but giggle as you cling to him, peppering kisses along his jaw and neck. You slow your ministrations down when you hear him groan as you nip at a particular spot under his ear; you slowly open your mouth and let your tongue brush against his skin before biting down gently, careful to not leave any marks (per his unfortunate request, no visible marks can be left on him due to his new position at work. Plus, it’s been harder to cover them up and there’s only so many times he can wear a scarf during the summer without getting weird glances from coworkers. And the amount of turtle necks he’s worn during this winter season in particular is fashionably criminal).

Sunghoon easily carries you to your shared bedroom, not even bothering to close the door as he gently tosses you on the mattress. You quickly sit up, peeling your clothes off of you before Sunghoon even has a chance to get on the bed himself.

“Slow down, let me help you,” he murmurs, placing a hand on your arm to stall you. You let him remove your shirt, although he’s doing it painfully slowly; leaving soft kisses along your collar bones and the base of your neck once they’re properly exposed. Even though his movements are slow and intentional, it feels like time is speeding up between you in the best way possible. It’s something you can’t quite explain. You’ve heard other people talk about how time seems to stop when they’re with their partners. But, for you, time has always sped up with Sunghoon, the entire world spinning by as the two of you live in your own timezone; a cocoon created just for you two to find solace in.

You wouldn’t change it for a thing.

Finally, Sunghoon has you completely naked and laying on your side, supporting your upper body weight by laying on your elbows as you look at him towering over you. He’s already swatted your hand away from him when you tried to lift his shirt up, a wide, goofy smile plastered on his face as he gently encourages you to wait. What you’re waiting for? You have no idea. But your heart is racing with anticipation, your body warm and cheeks flushed already.

All he does is roll up his sleeves slightly, exposing his veiny forearms. Instantly your eyes are drawn to his hands, though, his fingers flexing slightly as they move back down to his sides. 

“You’re staring, darling.”

“Can’t help it,” you sigh, “look at you.”

Sunghoon chuckles softly, an endearing smile back on his face, “Look at me? Look at you. So pretty for me…” he takes a step forward, his gaze primal and hungry, “so pretty for me to ruin, tsk tsk. What am I going to do with you?” 

You feel your face heating up even more, blush surely spreading across your cheeks. You can’t help but wish he would hurry up, though. It feels like your heart is going to beat out of your chest with how fast and hard it’s pounding. Hands craving for a purpose, you keep reaching for your husband, desperate to feel his skin mingle with yours, but he keeps swatting you away. Your body is aching for him like it always does, no matter how many times you’ve had him inside you. You always want more of him- need more of him.

Sunghoon looks towards the closet where you keep your polaroid camera resting safely on the shelf above your hanging clothes, the long neck strap spilling over the ledge. But, he bites his bottom lip and turns back to you, groaning as he places his knees on the edge of the bed. One of his hands comes out to grasp one of your knees, spreading you apart so he can properly look at your glistening cunt. 

“Fuck,” he exhales, “I can see how wet you are for me already. Darling, I haven’t even touched you yet.”

You try to look away from him, but his gaze is too captivating, holding you in place.

“Just looking at you has me like this,” you quip playfully, “my husband is just so sexy.”

“Fuck…say that again,” he groans, massaging your knee with his hand, his eyes glued to yours.

“My…hus…band,” you say slowly, drawing out the syllables with a smirk, clicking your tongue at the end while you bring a foot up to rest on his thigh. 

His free hand instantly grasps your foot, stopping its movements immediately. Sunghoon can’t help but sigh and marvel at you. But only for a moment. Roughly, he tosses your leg to the side and buries his face in your heat, forgoing the slow build up he initially was going for and presses his nose against your clit as he tongues at your hole. 

“Oh!-” You let out a surprised choked yelp, but you’re quickly sputtering as one of your husband’s hands comes up to grasp one of your breasts tightly. His thumb flicks over your perked nipple, massaging your mound harshly as his tongue continues to lick at your arousal. Your back naturally arches, your hands grasping at the sheets near your head as moans easily leave your lips.

“Mmm, so sweet for me,” Sunghoon coos, bringing his free hand up to wipe at his mouth. At first, you think he’s done, but then he has two fingers roaming between your folds collecting your slick. “So wet, all for me,” he says proudly, eyes locked in on your cunt. He’s more so talking to himself. More praises and remarks are made but your head is becoming too foggy, thighs now twitching with the soft contact. You need more, more of him.

Your hands snake down to his head, making him look at you for a moment while you silently plead for him. You know that he knows what you want, but all he does is smile happily at you, continuing the slight touches. His fingers circle the outside of your hole and just far enough outside of your clit to have you clenching. It’s completely unfair for him to do this to you, but unfortunately, it’s not the first or last time he will play with you like this. 

“So needy,” he coos again, “is this what you want?” Sunghoon slowly pushes one digit into your cunt, making sure not to move it around. You try to suck him in further, hips wiggling unintentionally.

“Sunghoon,” you groan, closing your eyes, “please.”

“Please what?” You can hear the smirk in his voice and it’s enough to make you want to throw a bratty tantrum. But, somehow, you’re able to stop yourself. Because this is exactly what you want. And if you give into your bratty dynamics, it’ll only prolong what you need. 

So you’ll give your husband what he wants, for your own selfish agenda of course. “Please touch me more. I need you. No more teasing. Please.” The more you talk, the whinier you sound, but you don’t care anymore. Your hole continues to clench around his digit, desperate for it to move, piston, curl, do anything other than just sit dormant.

Sunghoon chuckles lowly, “Being so good for me today, aren’t you? Fine. I’ll give my wife what she needs since she’s been such a good girl this year.”

Your eyes are still closed as you sigh, waiting to feel more of his fingers inside you or even to feel his lips around your clit.

But that’s too predictable. And Sunghoon doesn’t like being predictable.

Instead, your eyes pop open as you feel Sunghoon’s cock pushing into you. The stretch is painfully delicious, your body shivering as he fills you up more and more. Once he’s completely sheathed inside you, Sunghoon groans and grips your knees tightly. You don’t know how you didn’t hear him slide his pajama pants down his thighs, but it’s a detail you don’t mind missing. Plus, you’re more focused on the way your body stings, urgently trying to adjust to his giant cock. Sunghoon stills for a moment, chest heaving as he adjusts himself inside you. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he hisses.

“That’s what happens when you don’t warm me up properly.”

“Smart fucking mouth,” he tsks but he can’t hide his smile. Sunghoon quickly rips his shirt over his head, tossing it mindlessly to the floor next to him. “I know you can take it, though. Your body was made for me, afterall.” 

He doesn’t even give you a chance to reply before his hips are pulling back, snapping forward back into you just before you feel his tip about to leave your hole. You moan with the force of his thrust, hands reaching out to grip onto his firm biceps. 

“Look at you. You’re so perfect like this, so beautiful,” Sunghoon groans as he thrusts harder and faster into you. “So…beautiful,” he grunts again. You gasp as he leans forward, his cock hitting a new angle. But you don’t have time to fully appreciate it. His hand wraps delicately around your throat, squeezing until a slight gasp leaves your lips.

It feels like your body is levitating; every inch of your skin prickles with a rush of adrenaline as your husband continues to abuse your hole. The way his hips snap against your thighs has you feeling bruised already. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Some might feel embarrassed for how quickly they get to their orgasm, but not you. You feel a sense of pride swell in your chest knowing that your husband knows your body so well and is always determined to have you come before he does. It’s a law he’s written for himself. And, ever since the first time you’ve been together, he’s held true to it. The rare times he comes before you do is if you’re sucking him off quickly somewhere outside of your home, which is usually taking place in a restaurant bathroom or a dressing room in a random department store. Being the man Sunghoon is, though, that same night he makes sure to spend hours with your thighs cushioned against his head. No matter how much you beg for his cock, he always insists on using his tongue or hands to fully appreciate your body as a reward for taking care of him at the random moments when he needs to use you.

Ever the selfless, Sunghoon lessens his grip on your throat and leans down, kissing you softly while his pace doesn’t relent. It’s drowning the way his lips naturally mold with yours, all the words you want to say get poured into the way you receive his touch, wrapping your arms around his neck and bucking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

“Don’t come yet,” he commands, a harsh bite in his voice as he pushes your hips down, “I want our next ornament to be a picture of you right as your orgasm hits. Can you do that for me? Can you hang on just a little bit longer, baby? I just want to have a little more fun with you before I grab the camera.”

You shake your head, biting down hard on your bottom lip to try to keep yourself from orgasming. Tears prick your eyes as you feel your body start to betray you despite your best efforts.

“C’mon, baby, please? Fuck, I don’t think I can stop. You just feel so good,” he groans loudly, both hands gripping your breasts tightly as he continues pounding you into the mattress. “If you can’t hold it I’ll just have to make you come again and again until I get the picture I want.”

“Please let me, Hoon. I-I can’t-” a choked moan interrupts you when Sunghoon presses his thumb firmly on your clit, rubbing harshly at a steady pace while his cock continues to piston in and out of you. You don’t even have a second to enjoy the dual stimulation. Your orgasm hits you like a train, exploding from the bottom of your body and rippling upward. Eyes rolling back so harshly, it feels like you’re going to pass out as your body starts to tremble violently underneath Sunghoon.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, slowing his pace down only slightly, “look at you, my pretty doll. Can’t even let me fuck you for more than two minutes before you’re losing your mind on my cock. You did so well taking me without any prep. Always so good for me.” He’s kissing up your chest between sentences, arms holding you tightly in place. You focus on the sound of his voice, letting the low familiar tone guide your soul back to your body.

Sunghoon pets your hair comfortingly, leaving gentle kisses along your face while his cock still sits snugly in your heat, unmoving. “You back with me?” he whispers, seeing the light returning back to your eyes and your body shaking less. You nod your head in response, a soft smile spreading on your face as you blink slowly at him.

“Good. Now that you’ve had your moment to catch your breath I can punish you properly.” Sunghoon removes himself from your body and the bed, now walking towards the closet.

“W-what?” You sit up on your elbows and watch him, confused with the way his jaw clenches and his back muscles tense.

“I thought you were gonna be a good girl for me, but I guess I was mistaken.” He’s digging around in the closet, nowhere near where the camera is.

“But I have been good!” You pout shamelessly, your tone whiny and full of attitude.

Finding what he was looking for, Sunghoon straightens himself and grabs the polaroid camera without a second glance. When he turns around, you gulp, seeing the four fuzzy cuffs in his hands alongside the camera.

“I told you not to come,” he flicks his hooded gaze at you, his face cold and annoyed, “so you don’t get to touch me since you wanted to be so greedy.”

Silently, Sunghoon walks back towards the bed and quickly fastens your feet into two of the cuffs, securing them snuggly and pulling out the fabric straps from under the mattress to hook the cuffs to. His jaw is still clenched while he moves impatiently, huffing at himself when his fingers fail to get them secure the first time. Only when he moves to your last free wrist does he finally look at you. Trying to appear sorrowful, you jut out your bottom lip and lower your head to look at him through your eyelashes. Sunghoon groans, always falling into this trap when it comes to you.

“Don’t look at me like that. You know what you did was wrong. And I’m not letting you off the hook that easily. You disobeyed so you’ll be punished. I know how handsy you get so it only seems fitting.”

You tug playfully at your wrist constraints, eliciting a stern scowl from your husband. Sighing and shaking his head, he takes out the camera and sets it down next to your body.

“But it’s Christmas…” You try again, but he doesn’t acknowledge you this time.

Sunghoon patiently looks over your body, his eyes slowly combing over every curve of your body, biting at his bottom lip as if it’s the first time he’s seeing you like this. You desperately want to rub your thighs together, missing the feeling of his cock stretching you out. It doesn’t go unnoticed by your husband, the way your legs tug at the cuffs or the way your hips buck up slightly. It’s almost worse that he won’t acknowledge you, even slowing down his gaze. And it’s killing you that he’s not even saying anything so all you’re left with is the cold air settling against your skin and feeling like a frog about to be dissected with the way you’re displayed before him. 

You let out a low moan, a huff really, while you furrow your brows and desperately try to meet Sunghoon’s gaze. He trails a finger from your thigh down to your ankle, your body twitching under his touch.

“Hoon-”

“No.”

One of his hands falls to his aching cock, still erect and glistening from your arousal. He slowly moves up and down his length, wincing slightly while looking hungrily at your exposed pussy. Flashbacks of your first night together flood your mind, the way Sunghoon practically drooled over your naked heat while your body trembled with a surge of adrenaline. The look on his face now is the same as it was all those years ago. 

Finally, his eyes trail up your body, resting into your gaze. That soft smile is back and you wonder if he’s reminiscing like you are, if he’s feeling the same overwhelming swell in his chest, wishing this moment wouldn’t have to pass and you could stay like this together forever.

As romantic as that sounds, you’re both over it. Smirks blooming on both of your faces as the yearning and needing for one another takes over your bodies. You use another wasted attempt at your constraints, whining for your husband in a near tantrum state. It only fuels his ego, loving how desperate you are for him. His erect cock visibly twitches, pulling Sunghoon towards you like a magnet. Placing a knee inches away from your dripping cunt, he leans down and groans as he kisses you, putting so much pressure against your lips that your head pushes deeper into the pillows until your neck starts to ache. His tongue doesn’t wait for your permission, forcefully pushing past your lips until he’s able to collide the muscle against your own. You moan into him, bucking your hips up once again to try to feel his body against your own, but he’s hovering a teasing length away, just enough for you to not be able to reach him.

In compensation, one of his large hands moves to grip your waist tightly, nails digging into your skin while he continues to attack your mouth. You desperately want to reach your hands out and wrap them around his neck, to tug on the ends of his hair and move his head to the side to nip and pull at the skin beneath his ear. 

The tension building up in your body is reaching a boiling point and you’re afraid you might actually lose your mind. Sunghoon loves to hear you beg, that’s nothing new to you, but the type of begging you’re on the verge of doing will only become a regret shortly after. You want to keep your composure, you really do, want to be the patient perfect wife Sunghoon married months ago. How could you possibly behave in a time like this? With a man like this?

You’re about to let loose when Sunghoon breaks away from your lips, moving his own along your jawline and dipping down to nip at your collarbones. In doing so, Sunghoon’s body lowers and you feel the tip of his cock bump against your swollen lower lips. Gasping, no, moaning, no-, whining, fuck, maybe all of the above sounds leave your lips simultaneously. Arching your back, your body desperately needs to be closer to him, to feel him against every inch of your skin. You feel dizzy, high even from the lack of contact and he has the nerve to sit there and watch you, chuckling as if you did something cutely amusing.

“You think this is funny?” You finally manage to pant out, wrists getting sore from tugging too harshly against the cuffs.

“Very.” Fangs beaming through his smile and sparkling eyes, Sunghoon gives you a moment before reaching for the camera. Quickly his fingers work until a bright light flashes in your face making you blink quickly.

“Sorry, love. Just couldn’t resist that pouty face of yours. Definitely one for the books. Now,” he grunts, looking down where your bodies are almost connected, “you ready for me? Gonna listen this time?” 

You nod your head earnestly, clenching around nothing, aching to be filled again.

“Take a breath,” he instructs, lining himself up to your hole, “because I’m not warming you up again. And I don’t plan on going slow.”

Instinctively, you do as you're told and inhale slowly. Sunghoon watches and waits until you’re exhaling to shove the head of his throbbing cock past your walls. Only getting halfway in, Sunghoon winces, letting out a low groan as his brows furrow while he looks at you, gritting his teeth as his eyes darken. Moving back onto his knees, Sunghoon tears his gaze from you and pushes his hair out of his eyes, his brows furrowed while he lets out another impatient huff. A failed experimental thrust getting him nowhere deeper inside you only elicits more huffs and a few muttered swear words. He leans down and lets a wad of spit string down from his mouth, landing directly where his cock and your pussy meet. Sunghoon brings one hand down and smothers the spit along his digit, moving it along his cock and up to your clit where he rubs annoyed circles frantically. He knows it doesn’t feel that good for you to be instantly met with harsh pressure and fast speeds, but he’s not trying to make you feel good right now exactly. No, he wants your body to react faster, to adjust to him before he completely loses his patience.

“After all this time I’m still too big for this little pussy? Thought I trained you better.” He’s shaking his head in disapproval and all you want is to get on your hands and knees and beg for his forgiveness; to beg for him to show you how to take his monster cock properly. But you’re left to just lay here like a starfish, whimpering as you try to relax your body. It feels impossible with all the anticipation building up. Your body is tense, heart rate increasing with every passing second. Your walls pulse around his thick member, sucking him in further and further with each subtle rock of his hips. Sunghoon’s brows are furrowed so deeply and his jaw clenched so tightly makes you clench around him even harder. Fuck, he’s so hot like this. Normally so patient and unbothered, it’s moments like this that really excite you. Because an impatient and bothered Sunghoon just means more fun for you.

“Sorry,” Sunghoon grumbles and grabs your hips firmly, backing out slowly only to ram himself completely into you. Gasping as his tip hits your cervix, your hips stutter against his pelvis. Sunghoon exhales a slow chuckle, biting his tongue between his fanged teeth with a smirk.

“God, you’re clenching me so tight I feel dizzy.” 

Moaning out a haggard, “‘M sorry” is all you can muster. Not that he gives you more time to form a proper sentence. Sunghoon is already moving before you can even adequately appreciate the full feeling he’s giving you. Your chest bounces with each harsh thrust, every muscle in Sunghoon’s body is flexed and strained as he finally delves into his own pleasure. His biceps and pecs are bulging right in front of your face, almost mocking you for not being able to touch or gnaw on them. 

“My pretty wife taking me so well,” grunting, his pace quickens, “you’re doing so, so good for me.”

Your body is desperately fighting against the restraints, feeling so good and overstimulated all at once. The pleasure building up inside your body is looking for any sort of relief. Not being able to rake your fingernails against the skin of his muscled back, not being able to leave open mouthed kisses along the side of his face and neck, it’s all driving you crazy. To just sit here and take this continual cock abuse is driving you so quickly over the edge you’re afraid of coming too quickly again. 

“Sunghoon,” you gesture your head to the side where he placed the camera minutes ago, “the camera.”

“Already?” The innocent and shocked expression on his face has your cheeks feeling hot, biting down on your bottom lip to keep you as grounded as you can. But that knot is winding tighter and tighter, he’s hitting all the right spots and one more low whine out of that pretty mouth of his is all it will take to have you coming undone.

Sunghoon stares at your face, the way your nose is scrunched and your eyes are closed, and hurries to grab the camera. His thrusts slow only slightly, the intensity lessening as he moves his body to grab the device. From fast and deep, he changes to slow and intentional; languidly dragging his cock against your walls.

Sunghoon raises the camera up to his eyes but stops, his body completely stilling, the camera lowering to his side.

You open your eyes and blink slowly at him,“What’s wrong?”

“I have a crazy idea.” There’s a far away look in his eyes mixed with a little sparkle, a look you’re not completely unfamiliar with.

“What is it?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” you say confidently, without any hesitation. What a silly question for him to even have to ask. Curiosity is starting to overwhelm the back of your mind when you see Sunghoon turn the camera over in his hands, the long black neck strap slipping between his fingers, wondering what the hell he has planned in that quiet mind of his.

Sunghoon is inspecting the camera strap carefully, then glancing back at you. 

“I’m gonna choke you with this.”

“What?”

A proud smile adorns his face as he guides your head up and slips the camera around your neck. You gulp as you feel the scratchy material against your esophagus, Sunghoon’s grip already tight while he adjusts everything until it’s in the perfect spot with the extra fabric wrapped around his fist. The camera itself is in his hand in a ready position just in case he decides he needs to take a picture quickly. He gives some experimental tugs, relishing in the way your eyes flutter with the constriction. Twitching, his cock that’s still buried deep inside you pulls his focus back. 

Sunghoon’s body now fully envelopes you, resting his body weight on his free arm while the other angles the camera near the side of your face.

“Why didn’t I think of this before?” He chuckles with satisfaction, taking a quick experimental photo of your chest. He tosses the expelled polaroid on the other side of the bed, making sure the photo lands faced down.

You couldn’t answer even if you wanted to; same old dance, different song really. Because your husband has started up his rhythmic thrusts again, going back to his original pace and pulling at the camera strap attached to your neck. You don’t miss the way he slips one of his fingers underneath the material though, the digit resting lightly against your skin.

Again, you desperately wish you could touch him. There’s no way to properly convey the yearning you have to feel his skin against your fingertips. To make up for the lack of physical action you can show him, you compensate with an array of moans with his name and swear words, you don’t even know what you’re saying anymore. Anything that will convey to him just what he’s doing to you exactly and how well he’s doing it too. 

“Oh my-, fuck, Hoon! There- right-, yeah! I’m-, hmmm.” It feels like your body is levitating with how deeply your back is arching, brain getting dizzy, your eyes are rolling back so hard. You can feel your thighs starting to shake more and more with each thrust Sunghoon pounds into you. Has he ever been this deep before? There’s no way he hasn’t. He could be pushing your uterus further into your body for all you know with the way he’s going absolutely crazy on you.

Sweat blooming like 4am dewdrops on Sunghoon’s forehead glisten, some drops falling down against your own brow. He’s muttering something back to you in between kisses along your skin, but you can’t make out the words with how fast and quietly he’s talking.

Not that it matters anyways. Your release is building up so quickly again you’ve become a sputtering mess yourself. 

“My god, you’re doing so well for me, baby,” Sunghoon winces, voice louder and understandable once more, “You’re gripping me so tight. Are you close again already?”

“T-take the picture!” You squeal through a gasp, grinding your hips against him.

Moving fast, Sunghoon loosens his grip on the camera strap, positioning his fingers on the button and tries to angle the lens to a spot that fits his liking. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he watches your expressions. He almost can’t believe that he’s the reason your eyes are rolling back so hard, that he’s the one making your entire body shake without barely having to do anything at all. 

“Oh!” You gasp as your husband’s cock twitches inside you mid thrust, hitting your g-spot easily. Your mouth falls open, back still arching and your eyes roll back yet again. The bright flash from the camera goes off while Sunghoon spews an array of swear words, tossing the camera to the side quickly. He grabs your hips and thrusts in and out of you at a rapid pace, fucking you through your orgasm while he chases his own high.

“You’re so fucking hot for letting me tie you up and take pictures of you, holy fuck. I have the best little wife,” he growls, “letting me do whatever I want with your body. You’re perfect, perfect for me.” A guttural groan leaves his lips as he ruts his hips against yours, muscles stuttering as he shoots hot ropes of cum as far into your cunt as he possibly can. Finally, you let out a loud sigh as you let your orgasm wash over your body. Electricity shoots throughout your veins as you ride out your high, Sunghoon slowly moving back and forth as he fucks his cum deeper into you. Even after you’re both panting and coming back to reality, he’s milking out every drop he possibly has left, making sure it’s well seated in you before pulling out fully.

With shaky legs, Sunghoon stands and stretches his arms over his head, returning to give you a shaking, soft kiss to your trembling lips.

“I love you,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along your cheek before giving a swift peck to your nose. He moves to undo the cuffs from your wrists, massaging your skin lightly for a moment before moving onto the next ones.

You whine as he moves away from you, wanting to kiss his lips over and over again until you physically can’t anymore. Brain spinning from your high and body buzzing, you’re not ready to have any sort of space away from him just yet.

When Sunghoon finally gets the last cuff off your ankle, you sit up and grab his arm, pulling him back down to the bed and enveloping his body in your arms. He laughs as he falls on top of you, wasting no time to reciprocate the embrace, littering your face with rapid kisses that leave you giggling.

“I love you too, by the way.” You giggle, squishing your cheek against his while squeezing your arms around him tighter.

“I know,” he says softly. “Hey, we should see how the pictures turned out!”

“Oh god,” you groan, completely unprepared to see what you look like in a total fucked out dazed state. Sunghoon moves to the side, resting his head against your shoulder and reaching over your body for the photos, hiding them from your curious eyes so he can get a peak first.

“Daaammmnn,” he whistles with a side glance towards you, “I just felt myself twitch again. These are too good. Can we do this every time we have sex?”

“Lemme see.” You laugh and reach for his hand. He hands over the photos willingly, watching your face intently while you take in the photos. “That’s me? I look like that when I-”

“Yep,” Sunghoon sighs dreamily, “I never get tired of seeing it.” He tilts his head to the side to give you that rare goofy grin that you love so much.

“Should we put it in an ornament now?”

“Nah,” Sunghoon takes the polaroids from your hand and sets it on the nightstand, pulling you closer so now it’s your head that’s resting on his chest, “Let’s stay here a bit longer.”

Closing your eyes and breathing in his scent, you sigh happily, arms wrapped securely around his waist while he murmurs soft words into your hair. An array of “so pretty”’s and “my baby did so well”’s tumbling from his kiss swollen lips.

It only takes you a moment to realize what he’s doing. And you get your confirmation when you open your eyes.

“You want to go again…don’t you…”

Sunghoon exhales with a low chuckle, his head falling back while he continues to play with your hair. “What gave it away?”

“Well…you’re being very affectionate right now. And I have eyes.” You giggle and gesture towards his naked bottom half, with his (once again) fully erect cock on display.

“Oh…that.” Sunghoon shyly replies. “Can you blame me?” 

Without waiting for your response, yet again (does he ever wait for you to properly reply to him?) Sunghoon moves quickly and is hovering over you once again, lowering his bottom half until his cock is nestling between your folds. Teasingly his tip nudges against your clit, your body already weeping to have him inside you again.

Thinking he’s about to put himself back in, you brace your body to feel the stretch. Instead, Sunghoon gives you a mischievous grin and grabs your waist. He flips you around, pulling your hips back until your ass is in the air and flush against his pelvis.

You feel the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance again, but he pauses. And you groan because he seems to always be doing this; somehow always getting lost in thought just when you’re ready to let everything go and be fully consumed by him. But nothing can ever be that simple to Sunghoon. Every minute, every second, every detail is thought out in ways that only Sunghoon could do. But the more he gets lost in thought, the more pleasure you’ll feel later. If only your patience could keep up.

“Fuck, I wanna tie you up again.”

You let out a surprised laugh, somehow, at the same time, you’re not completely surprised by this at all. His words are so simple, yet they send an excited chill throughout your body. You know better than to move when you feel his presence leave you, most likely heading back to the closet to rummage through your shared box of fun. 

You hear his feet shuffling back, followed by the bed dipping under his body weight shortly after. “Mmm. Love you like this,” he sighs, massaging the swell of your ass with his hands before landing a playful smack to it. He grabs your arms and places your wrists on top of each other. The feeling of what’s most likely one of his ties wraps around, tightening deliciously around your skin until you can’t move your arms at all. 

“We’re going to make so many ornaments tonight, baby.”

♡ pls like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! ♡ masterlist ♡ all rights reserved jayparked 12/30/24 do not copy, repost, or translate

[prkhaven]

TEACHER’S PET -p.sh-

A forbidden facade begins to ensue between you and your professor

pairing— professor!sunghoon x star uni. student fem!reader

genre: smut minor do not interact, professor au, professor x student, age gap(sunghoon is in mid/late 20s while reader is in early 20s), angsty, fluffy, p with plot, p with feelings, forbidden love

word count: 17.8k

-all warnings below cut-

warnings: sunghoon gets kind of mean, jealously, so much feelings, profanity, a little misunderstanding

smut warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), multiple sex scenes, praising, degradation, dirty talk, p in v, fingering, throat fucking, overstimulation, some cum eating, creampies, headlocks, dom!sunghoon(but they're both freaks), usage of nicknames(baby, good girl, sir, slut, etc.), breeding kink, dacryphilia, cock warming, oral (m+f rec. and giving)

You’re the perfect student in your university. Acing all of your courses with ease, even the hardest course known on campus taught by the strictest teacher, Mr. Park.

Everyone saw and knew you worked hard in order to achieve everything you’ve accomplished, seeing your dedication and sleepless nights in order to complete an assignment perfectly.

Everyone wished to be just like you one day as you set the curve.

Whether you decide to admit it or not, you’re utterly admired by students, staff, faculty members, and teachers.

Each time your name came across papers, it was given extra attention to detail and care to just see how marvelous you worked on it.

But there was one teacher who absolutely adored you the most. Admiring the way you attentively took notes during lectures, how you furrow your eyebrows and pout your lips as you studied, or when you would lightly chew on your pen when going over questions, to simply the way you would come to him to ask questions without a worry while others were scared to even approach him.

Mr. Park adored you as a hard working student.

He also adored the side of you that wasn’t seen as professional. The way your legs would unconsciously squish together when trying to understand something or how you squirmed under his gaze when it was just you and him but then secretly taking glances to him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

But he deeply cherished the side of you that would get him fired. The way you would drop to your knees in front of him to prove that you deserved the extra point you were missing to achieve the hundred percent you desperately wanted.

And he could forever relish in the way you usher kisses from him as you studied in his office while he graded papers or the way he folds your body over his desk as he pounds into you mercifully for getting the highest mark once again.

Oh Mr. Park loved his favorite student.

✎ᝰ。

Sunghoon’s course was a two semester course for the minimum amount of material that was crammed in there. It was known to be the hardest course to pass which meant there were very few students who decided to take the challenge(you being one of them).

But there was no other teacher that understood the material like him, he was the top professor and you were the top student.

How you and Sunghoon began the forbidden fiasco was spontaneous but not unexpected. There was obvious tension already building in-between as he would catch you looking at him with a certain glint in your eyes before shyly looking away to focus back on the lecture.

However, his favorite was whenever he’s grading papers already feeling exhausted from giving such low marks and not enough high marks but his exhaustion would instantly fade away when he’d get to yours.

He always straightens up his posture to take a moment to properly appreciate how perfect your paper is. How you not only explained every point needed to receive full credit but even added some of your own input.

But what he loved more were the little doodles you would leave scatter on your paper to indicate your boredom after finishing.

His pen would softly trace the designs with a fond smile, a thought lingering to indulge himself in the opportunity presented to him. So he would write a simple comment alongside the doodle that caught his eyes the most.

And this time around it was a simple doodle of a house sitting on a hillside with a sunset far in the distant and flowers littering the landscape.

When you received your paper back, you’d smile at the big hundred percent in bright red ink in the corner of your paper but soon caught glimpse of your professor’s comment along your doodle.

Your smile would only get bigger seeing ‘got bored?’ next to the house doodle before glancing up to your professor who gave the faintest smile ever towards you before dropping it and continued to pass out the rest of the student’s papers.

The next time you had a paper due, you made sure to complete it with ease before writing back a response to his previous comment, hoping he would respond to it.

And once again as Sunghoon was up late at night grading papers, energy already drained, he finally made it to yours and his energy skyrocketed.

As he was grading your paper, he caught the doodle you did of yourself and a surprising response to his previous comment.

‘Yeah I am. Next time you should make these just a little harder Mr. Park’

He smirked to himself with a chuckle before nodding his head in amusement. You didn’t received an hundred percent this time around, but still received the highest mark out of everyone taking his course.

But he saw this an opportunity to tease you just a little bit.

‘Next time you should make sure to get an hundred then maybe I’ll consider it’

✎ᝰ。

You made an appointment with Sunghoon during the scheduled hours to discuss the possibility of him writing a letter of recommendation for an internship you’re hoping to get into during winter break.

As you stood in front of his door, you didn’t hesitate to knock on his office door softly and you heard him mutter ‘come in’ loud enough for you to hear and when you walked in he gave you a welcoming smile.

He’s been anticipating you ever since he saw your name pop up in the long list of appointments but he wondered what you needed from him. “Good evening”

You returned his kind smile with your own, “Good evening Mr. Park”

He motioned to the chair in front of his desk which you easily took, “What can I do for you?”

“I won’t take too much of your time, I know you’re a busy professor” Sunghoon lightly chuckled in his head at your statement, he could never be too busy for you.

“I was wondering if you could possibly write me a letter of recommendation? There’s an internship I really would enjoy to attend but it requires one from a professor” You explained and you noticed how you had his full undivided attention

He nodded at every word you said before lightly clasping his hands together. “I have no issues doing so, email the information of your internship” Your smile spread across your face hearing his easy acceptance to your request but he was curious about one thing. “If I may ask, why choose to ask me for this?”

“I’m sure you’re well aware I’m not exactly the most easy going professor. And you and I both know many other professors would’ve adored to take this opportunity if you asked”

“Well that’s exactly the reason Mr. Park. You’re not easy going. If I asked another professor of mine to write one I’m sure they will gush on and on about my achievements and how wonderful of a student I am but not of me as a person and my dedication” You explained and Sunghoon felt a sense of pride in his chest but he tried push that feeling down

He shouldn’t be feeling this, you were only coming to him for a letter of recommendation. Nothing more and nothing less of that.

He gave a curt nod to your explanation before you thanked him profusely which he kindly waved off.

“I hope you’re able to have a wonderful winter break Mr. Park!” Your bright smile made his heart churn in itself but he tried so hard to shake it off

“You as well. I hope you’re able to attend your internship”

“Oh I’ll definitely get in if I have you writing my letter of recommendation” Your words weighed heavy on his shoulders and heart

✎ᝰ。

It was deep into winter break and Sunghoon was roaming through the streets on Christmas eve alone. He saw how couples were smiling as they held hands, walking by simply happy to spend the holidays together.

Now he never cared for having a relationship, having his priorities lie within his work. But there were times, times like this, that made he wonder what his life would be like if he had someone.

But he wasn’t going to dwell on something that wasn’t real. He was going about his business to head back home when he suddenly heard a familiar voice he didn’t expect to hear on Christmas eve.

He turned and saw your bundled up self making your way towards him, you looked so cute under the faint store and street lights. He shook his head from that thought and gave a confused expression to which you giggled at.

You noticed how different he looked from how you usually see him during class. Instead of his usual business attire with his rimless clear glasses, his attire now fitted to the cold weather to keep him warm, his hair out of its usual style, and his glasses long discarded.

Your heart fluttered in your chest seeing how he looked under the skylit night. There was never any denying that he was a very attractive person.

“Good evening Mr. Park” You greeted when you reached him and he gave a nod, not trusting himself to speak “What are you doing out on Christmas eve by yourself?”

“I could ask you the same thing” You chuckled slightly raising your hands up in defeat at his remark to your question

“Internship finally let me out for the next two days” His eyes blinked harsher hearing your sentence, you got the internship?

You chuckled softly at his reaction as you could read him like an open book. “Your letter of recommendation worked. I was one of the first people to receive a spot, so whatever you wrote did wonders on them” His lips curled into a smile, pleased to hear that he was able to help you

“Congratulations, I’m happy to hear that”

After his congratulation, the two of you stayed in an awkward silence. Neither sure of whether to continue the conversation or cut it off at that, but before stressing over it more the smallest snowflake fell between and caught your attention.

Both of you looked to sky to see the snowfall, realizing it was going to be a white Christmas. You smiled softly as you rested your hand out to catch the falling snow.

Sunghoon shifted his gaze from the sky onto you and saw how the moonlight and snowfall painted your eyes like you held in the universe in them.

“Do you want to have dinner?” Sunghoon’s words fell from his mouth before he could even realize what he was saying

He stopped and cursed at himself under his breath for allowing his thought to slip through his mouth and when he heard silence from you, he wanted the world to swallow him whole in that moment.

But your response is what brought him back to reality, “I would like that”

“What?”

“You asked me to dinner and I said I would like that. Don’t tell me you’re backing away from your offer Mr-“

“Please call me Sunghoon when we’re outside of school grounds” He stopped you from continuing your sentence and you held back a smile and nodded your head

“Alright then Sunghoon, what do you have in mind for dinner?”

Oh he really had done it to himself now. He was doomed.

✎ᝰ。

Your face crinkled as you laughed at something Sunghoon had said as you were leaving the restaurant. You expected the dinner to be awkward but instead it was like the two of you had known each other for years. Not a single ounce of tension was felt even though he was your professor and you were his student.

Sunghoon arrived to his car and he shot you a confused look when he saw you weren’t following. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sending you off, I have to get a taxi to go back to mine” You told and Sunghoon shook his head, what kind of monster would he be if he left you to take a taxi

“Nonsense, I’ll drive you. No need to waste money” He told before opening the passenger door for you and your heart stopped

“A-are you sure? I really don’t mind taking a taxi Mr-”

“Please I insist. And you were doing so good not calling me Mr. Park throughout the dinner” You nervously gulped as you unconsciously squished your thighs a little closer together hearing the hint of praise from him

Sunghoon took notice of you squishing your thighs after his words and he could feel his stomach crawling inside out as he tilted his neck to the side to knock some sense into himself. He couldn’t, he possibly couldn’t.

Oh but he could and he did.

Because here he was inside your place, in your bed, his body flushed in between your legs as he feverishly kissed you like no tomorrow.

He was only supposed to walk you to your front door to make sure you got in safely but what he didn’t expect was for you to crash your lips onto his the moment the clock struck 12.

“Merry Christmas Sunghoon” You mumbled against his lips and he didn’t remember the last time someone had genuinely wished him one

He knows he should’ve pushed you away, to tell you that this was wrong, that neither of you could do this. But he was twisted, sick, and messy in his head. He couldn’t get enough of your taste now that he got a sliver of it.

Your hold on him was something so desperate and needy that he couldn’t possibly let you go as the two of you found a feverish pace for the kiss. The snow falling over your bundle up bodies as the dim light shun above you two outside your front door.

Sunghoon’s arms were hesitant to wrap around you to bring you impossibly closer to him and you noticed. You wanted, needed, him to hold you the way you were clinging onto him.

You carefully brought his arms to hold you and he let out a soft noise when he finally felt you in his arms. It felt so right to have you there as if you were meant to be there in the first place (in his mind you were).

He could feel the lack of oxygen in him but he couldn’t care in the slightest. Your lips were like a paradise and he rather give up heaven if he had to just to keep tasting you.

“I need you Sunghoon” He stopped kissing you and pulled away to stare at you with wide eyes, not expecting to hear those words to ever leave your mouth

Your pupils were blown out wide as you stared up to him with a cloud of lust filling your eyes. His mind became hazy as it ran miles in a loop of the only rational thought holding onto dear life. He shouldn’t give in.

But the way your lips fit perfectly with his and the way you felt under his touch. He threw all his rationality out of the window, unable to say no to you when you’re willingly offering yourself so preciously to him.

His lips soon found a place on your jaw before tracing down to your neck in a haste. “Gonna have to do better than that to get my cock” You relished in his words as you knew this was the sign you’ve been longing for

You bit back your smirk and you let your body melt in his touch and kisses as your hands found their way to his hair to mess it up from its middle part.

“Then let me bring you inside” You whispered just loud enough for him to hear and Sunghoon forced himself to detach from you to allow you open the door

As you hastily tried to open the door wanting to get him inside as soon as possible, Sunghoon’s arms wrapped around you, allowing himself to get lost in the daze of you.

He kissed the side of your face not able to get enough of you as his thumbs rubbed circles on your coated body. Even though there was a multiple layers between you and his touch, you could still feel his touch burn your body.

When you finally opened the door, he quickly pushed you inside and locked the front door.

The moment he turned to face you, you grabbed him by the collar to kiss him once again. He chuckled against your lips as your hands began removing his layers. “You can start taking mine off too” You mumbled and he was quick to remove the piece of clothing that prevented him from touching your skin.

The kiss became more impatient as you guided him towards your room, neither of your lips breaking from each other. You had your hands mixed in his hair as his hands roamed over your body, trying memorize every single crevice on your body.

When you made it to your room, you knocked the door open and broke off the kiss to push him onto your bed with a pant. Sunghoon looked to you to take a moment to properly comprehend that this was actually happening.

Your eyes darting over him to burn how you had your professor sitting on your bed burned into your memory.

As your eyes found his, you slowly began to remove your shirt and Sunghoon’s eyes never left yours. You gulped as you discarded your shirt somewhere leaving you in your bra as you took off your pants.

He was trying everything in his willpower to not look anywhere else besides your eyes as you were removing your last piece of clothing. When you kicked your pants off somewhere in your room, you were now left in your undergarments only.

Sunghoon who witnessed it, couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you, his student, his favorite student actually, was now crawling onto his lap.

He gulped as his hands unconsciously grabbed your hips as you positioned yourself right on top of him. He let out a deep groan feeling your clothed core right above his hard on.

You gasped feeling him against you, even though he was restraint through his pants, you could still his imprint. You slowly rocked your hips to rub yourself against him, letting desperate whines leave your mouth for him.

This was not how either of you expected your Christmas to go.

But nevertheless, Sunghoon couldn’t take it anymore. He flipped you onto your back and you let out a shocked squeal at how easily he did that but your mind went blank as he removed his shirt and your jaw dropped.

You knew Sunghoon had muscles, you could tell by the way his shirts would fit around him during class but you didn’t realize just how sculpted his body was. Your eyes trailed over him and you felt your heart pounding against your chest.

But you were disrupted from your thought as he dove straight into your neck to leave wet open kisses.

You moaned softly feeling his lips, his hands roaming higher up your body until they found your breast. He unclasped your bra with ease and freed your mounds before attaching his lips onto your left one, sucking and kissing your already harden nipple and having his free hand to pinch your right one.

You jolted harshly at the sensation on both of your nipples and you could feel his smirk against your body.

His tongue glided over your sensitive nipple making you whimper loudly, fingers pinching them before rubbing his thumb over it to soothe the nerves. He removed his lips from your boob, bringing his lips onto yours. You grabbed his wrist as his hands held your boobs as he flushed himself against you.

You felt the poke against your clothed core and as embarrassing as it was, you almost came right then and there.

You don’t remember the last time you ever got with someone, too focused on school (and secretly your professor) that you didn’t even have time to take care of yourself.

You rubbed yourself against his leg that laid between your legs and he grinned in the kiss as he bit your lips harshly causing you to squeal.

“Such a fucking slut. Can’t even wait for me to fuck you that you’re already rubbing your soaking pussy against me” Sunghoon grabbed your chin forcing you to look down on the leg you were grinding on and the wet patch you left behind

“Rubbing me like some bitch in heat” You whimpered at his words and you shook your head trying to prove yourself but your actions spoke other wise

All you knew were praises but hearing such belittling words from your professor only made you wetter and you desperately needed him inside of you. “Please Mr. Park plea-” But you didn’t expect him to squish your face in his hand as he forced you to look at him

His harsh lust filled gaze send a wave down to your already dripping self. “Call me sir”

Your throat went dry, never using such nicknames before. But you heard the sternness of his voice which only fueled you even more. “S-sir” You tested the foreign nickname on your tongue for the first time and hearing it fall from your lips went straight to his cock

Having the top student sprawled beneath him begging for him did wonders on his mind. But he wasn’t going to give in that easily.

“Come on, I know you can do better than that. I need words, what do you want me to do?” Sunghoon teased as he already knew exactly what you wanted

But something about having you beg for him riled him up. Just because it was you didn’t mean you were easily going to get what you wanted from him.

“Sir please” Your voice full of desperation, “I-I need you inside of me. Need you to feel you. Want you to fill me up with your cock, I need you” You chocked out in whines and Sunghoon smirked seeing you wither before him

“Such a good little slut” He kissed the side of your face making you squeal, and you finally heard the unbuckling his belt and your heart raced

You looked down to see him freeing his harden cock which sprung out, hitting his abdomen and your jaw dropped seeing his size. This was nothing compared to what you thought it was when you were rubbing yourself against him.

You clearly underestimated your professors size and he noticed, “Oh don’t tell me you thought I was small. Come on, give me some credit” He smirked noticing you gulping nervously as you were amazed by his size

Your hands went to admire him and he groaned when your hands wrapped around him with a daze in your eyes. He closed his eyes as you softly pumped him almost causing him to throw his head back from the sheer pleasure.

With the faintest touches, you were already sending him into an overdrive. He doesn’t know if it’s because it’s been so long since he’s last been with someone like this or if it was because his deep hidden forbidden desires were being fulfilled by the only person in his mind, you.

His eyes clamped harder when he felt your hand go lower to fiddle with his aching balls that have been waiting months to be released.

“You’re so heavy” You mumbled at the observation and you noticed his angry tip leaking precum

You knew how bad your thoughts were in that moment, but you needed him to rearrange your whole intestines.

Your hands brought him over your stomach to measure just how deep he would be inside of you and you nervously gulped seeing how far deep he would be, “I don’t know if you’re gonna fit…”

Sunghoon murmured a soft ‘fuck’ under his breath seeing just how deep he would be inside of you, he almost lost control and rammed into you to make you dumb and only think about his cock.

But he knew you were right, he didn’t even know himself if he could fit inside of you.

“Then we’ll make it fit. You’ll be a good girl and take it right? Take all of me and everything I give you?” You looked up to him with doe eyes and Sunghoon needed to ruin you as you innocently nodded your head

He hummed pleased with your nod before having his fingers play with the fabric of your panties, noticing how it clung to your wetness as he peeled them off you painfully slow.

The more you were becoming exposed to him, the more you were growing shy and when he finally removed your panties, you unconsciously covered your bare self with your hands.

Sunghoon smack his tongue against his teeth before moving your hands away to admire you in all your glory. He saw how your soaked core gleamed with your arousal and he was captivated by you. He took a moment to appreciate you and your cheeks burned as his gaze never left your gaping hole.

“Perfect, absolutely perfect” He mumbled to himself before holding himself in his hands, giving himself a few pumps before dragging his tip across your wet self in a teasing manner, his precum and your arousal smearing together making the most beautiful scene in front of him.

Your hole clenched around nothing as he tapped his tip against your empty hole that begged to be filled and destroyed by him.

But you whined impatiently as he replaced his aching cock with his slender fingers. Even though, he desperately wanted to just be inside you, he knew he would split you in half and not in the good way if he didn’t prep you.

You bit your lip as you felt his fingers graze over your wetness and you looked down to see Sunghoon in a daze as he watched you coat his fingers.

You were going to say something but you gasped when you suddenly felt his finger enter you without any warning. He hissed at your tightness as he slowly pumped his finger in and out of you. Your body melted into your mattress from his finger alone.

Sunghoon soon entered a second finger, stretching you out a little more. You let out soft moans and it was like music to his ears. His fingers painfully dragged in and out as his thumb found a resting point on your clit.

The slow circles on your sensitive bud made your body jolt as the moans became louder and heavier. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach and right when it was going to snap, Sunghoon ripped his hand away.

You frustratedly whined that your close orgasm was ripped from you. Sunghoon chuckled seeing your frustrated state as small tears filled the corner of your eyes, daring to fall.

You saw as he stuck the fingers that were just inside of you inside him mouth as he hummed wildly tasting you for the first time.

“You taste so sweet baby” The endearing nickname filled your ears and mind as your frustration melted away as your heart warmed

But that didn’t last too long as it quickly overshadowed by the desperate need for him. “S-Sir p-please” You broke out in a whimper and Sunghoon cooed you as he rubbed your cheek softly

“You’ve been doing so well, I’m so proud of you baby” He tried to calm down your sniffled self as he grabbed his cock in his hand before dragging his tip across your pussy again before protruding your hole with his tip

Your mouth fell slack as you could feel him slipping in as he hissed by how tight you were. Your mind was already sent into a drunken dazed by the stretch you’ve never felt before.

He let out a broken chuckle as he saw your expression, “You’re already gone and I only gave you a taste of my tip” He continued to ease his way in, the clench making it difficult for him

“B-Big” You admitted breathlessly the moment he finally made it halfway

The two of you panted heavily feeling the undeniable pain but pleasurable stretch as Sunghoon nearly lost himself in the hold you had on his cock.

He gave you sometime to adjust as he rubbed a hand on your hips to help your shuddering and after a few moments you gave him a weak nod to keep going.

As he kept moving deeper into you, your gasp only grew louder, your hands resting on his shoulder as your fingertips dug into his shoulders.

He hissed feeling your fingertips in his shoulders but he continued to slowly push through. With each passing second, tears fell down your face and Sunghoon kissed your tears away.

“I know baby, I know. You can take it. I promise it’ll feel so good” You whimpered as you wrapped your arm around him to hold him close to your aching body

He finally bottomed out and the two of you let out a heavy shudder trying to get use to the taste the new forbidden heaven.

“You’re so pretty baby. So damn pretty” He praised you hoping it helped ease you and it did to a certain extent

The stretch was undeniably delicious and when lightly tapped his back, a sign for him to move, he smiled weakly, giving shallow thrust at first.

From his first thrust, you felt a new side of pleasure you never felt before. No one ever being able to make you feel like this till this day. You just never expected the one to show you this new world of pleasure would be your own professor.

You moaned as you held him close to you as he found a spot in the crook of your neck. The noises you tried to contain became loose in his ears when he began to pick up pace as his tip started to kiss your cervix with each thrust which you didn’t even know was possible.

“F-fuck baby. Gonna fuck you so good” He gruntled against your neck as he soon found a pace that made you fall apart on his cock

His pelvis met with your clit from the close proximity and you were seeing stars. “M-Mr- Sun-Hoo-Sir” Your mind didn’t know what to call Sunghoon in this moment

“How often did you think about your professor’s cock ramming into you? Bet you waited for the day to lure me into your bed just so that I can fuck you like the slut you are” Sunghoon spewed the brewing thoughts in his head

“E-every d-day Sung…H-hoon” You managed to moan out as the friction against your clit made you unintentionally tighten around Sunghoon’s hammering cock inside of you and the two of you were falling apart from the pleasure.

“Just like that, say my fucking name from your pretty mouth” Sunghoon pulled away from his spot on your neck to look at your sprawled body as he gripped your sides to slam his hips harsher against yours. “Nothing in that pretty head of yours but my name”

You knocked your head back as you tightly gripped your sheets, trying to hold in your sounds as best as you could but Sunghoon wouldn’t allow that. He rubbed his fingers over your swollen clit causing you to scream and cover your mouth surprised by the loud noise that left your mouth.

“Let the whole neighborhood know who’s fucking you this good. Let them hear you moan and whine like the slut you are for your professor’s cock” You were beyond the edge as his hips snapped against yours, your body jolting into the mattress with each of his thrust

And he loved the scene before him, the way your breast bounced from his harsh thrust, how your head was thrown back and your mouth was wide open with nothing but calls of his name and moans leaving it.

You arched your back sending a new shock of pleasure over you and Sunghoon’s managed to somehow go even deeper with the new angle as he held your lower back to keep your back arched as he continued to pound into you like you were his own toy.

“Clo-Close s-ir” You whined as you could feel the familiar knot forming in your stomach again. “Please! ‘m g-gonna come”

“Then come for me” Sunghoon voice was hot against your ringing ears and that was the push you needed before a tidal wave of pleasure crashed over you

You moaned loudly and Sunghoon groaned feeling you tightened around him from your climax and he noticed how you tried to pull away from him due to the simulation of his slipping cock in you.

You thought it was over as you panted tiredly and he slowed down his pace. But your legs were suddenly thrown over his shoulders as your body was pressed deeper into the mattress before he picked up his pace again.

You let out a loud sound, clawing at your sheets from the stimulation as your mind reeled from his brutal pace on your hole.

“We’re not done until I dump all of my cum inside you like my own personal cumdump” With the mention of the new nickname, you clamped down harder on him and he smirked feeling your reaction to his degrading words

“Oh? You like being your professor’s cumdump? You like knowing that you’ll be full of my cum so deep inside you, don’t you slut?”

“Yes yes yes” You blabbed as Sunghoon’s pace never let up as your pussy only continued to suck him in. “Gonna milk me for all my worth” Sunghoon groaned, feeling his own high rising

When you felt his cock twitch inside of you, you knew he was close. You clamped harder down on him wanting to stay true to his words. You were going to milk him for all his worth.

“Fuck! Tightening around me like that” Sunghoon panted as his head landed against your ear, Sunghoon’s thrust meeting your skin harshly that you swore there were would be bruising left

“Want all of it” Your voice was like a siren to him and Sunghoon knew exactly what you were referring to and he smirked proudly

“You want my cum that badly?” Your weak nods were sent straight to his ragging cock but suddenly he pulled out of you, making you feel empty

You whined loudly at the sudden emptiness, “Hoonie” The foreign nickname dragged out of your mouth and Sunghoon froze hearing it

He never knew such a nickname could make his heart flip and slowly have a power to conquer over him. He was going to need you to call him that forever.

He quickly lined himself back to your gaping hole before ramming his cock back into you with one thrust causing all air to be knocked out of you.

His pace was even more brutal as he used you like his own personal fleshlight. “H-Hoonie” You called out again and his mind was stuck on filling you up. He kept muttering soft ‘fucks’ and ‘just like that’ as he kept using your hole

But when he slowed down his pace suddenly after being so harsh and sloppy, you were going to complain before feeling such sharp thrust into you, jolting your body forwards until you felt hot spurts of his cum shoot deep inside you as Sunghoon rode out his high.

Sunghoon was telling the truth about filling you up as he gave a few more strokes inside of you to make sure his cum remained deep inside of you before painfully pulling out. He huffed, feeling the pressure of you finally releasing him and you whimpered feeling empty without him.

Sunghoon rubbed your sides as he admired your face shining in an afterglow he left you in. He smiled tiredly, planting kisses on your face. “You did so well baby, my good girl” His praises made you clench around nothing which forced his and your mix of cum to spill out of you

Sunghoon’s eyes traveled down and he was blessed that he did because he witnessed the most dazzling scene he had ever watched.

“You’re so fucking beautiful baby” He murmured as he pulled away from your sore body, creasing your inner thigh as he admired his work

You shivered feeling the sudden cold without his warmth on your body, your eyelids becoming heavy but your mouth fell open when his finger scooped around your messy pussy before sliding the mess back in.

“Don’t want to let it go to waste” Sunghoon hummed pushing his cum back deep into you, right where it was meant to be in

✎ᝰ。

Now in the present time. You made your way to Sunghoon’s office, having a bounce to your steps. As you walked through the campus, many people from students to the dean of the university happily greeted you as you passed by.

You were happy to wave back to them before finally reaching the destination you wanted to be at in the first place. You softly knocked on Sunghoon’s office door and it was almost as if he knew it was you(he did).

When he gave you the all clear to enter, you opened the door to peak your head inside before bringing in the rest of your body and Sunghoon swirled in his chair to face you as you walked in. Sunghoon had his rimless clear glasses hanging from his nose, a paper in hand with his white button sleeves folded up to his forearms, the watch you gifted him as a late birthday present gleamed on his wrist under the warm dim lighting and a few of the buttons undone from his shirt.

It was near the end of the day and the university was clearing up as faculty members and students finally left after finishing another tired filled day.

But unlike you, it was no surprise that people would see you staying behind to ‘study’ when in reality 5 times out of the week, you’re finding your way to Sunghoon’s office for the ‘briefings’ the two of you had established after that blissful night on Christmas day.

“Good evening Mr. Park” You greeted him formally but as you closed the door making sure to lock it, you went over to your favorite professor desk, dropping your bag on the chair in front of his desk as you went over to give him a kiss which he happily accepted

“Hi baby” He murmured in the kiss having missed your presence even though he saw you earlier that morning for the morning lecture

But that was never enough for him, he could only discreetly glance across the lecture hall as you attentively paid attention to his lesson.

He softly placed a hand on the back of your head to keep you against his lips for a moment longer before finally pulling away.

When he pulled away, he saw the dopey grin you had and his heart swelled. You went to grab your discarded bag on the chair before dragging the lonely chair in the corner of Sunghoon’s office that he reserved just for you and grabbed your laptop and all the papers you needed.

Sunghoon adjusted his own papers to accommodate your stuff now clamoring his desk just like how he always did for you.As you made yourself comfortable, you and Sunghoon stayed in comfortable silence as the two of you worked on your respective tasks.

This was how it usually starts whenever you came to visit your favorite professor for ‘debriefings’.

However, if it were to go further than this, it always depended on if either of you were in the mood (which was almost always) and who would initiate it first.

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes reading over a paper that made absolutely no sense, his hand slipped onto your thigh, giving a light squeeze when he saw yet another error on the paper.

You didn’t even flinch in the slightest from the squeeze, already used to it as you continued to type away on your laptop trying to submit something that was not even due until 2 weeks from now, but you always loved being ahead of the game.

You slightly tilted your head confused when you received an email but when you opened it, you silently squealed happily which caught Sunghoon’s attention.

He peeled his gaze away from the paper onto you who was smiling widely at your laptop screen. You could feel his questioning gaze and you faced him showing off your beautiful smile as you turned the laptop around for him to read the email you received.

He read the email with a stoic face but a small smile soon rose to his face when he finished. In the email it stated that you were the top student to receive the highest marks in the past semester finals.

“Congratulations baby” Your heart swelled to Sunghoon’s praise as you cheekily smiled, feeling proud of the achievement you accomplished yet again

“Last semester was a little harder so I’m surprised I placed first again” You admitted but you melted when Sunghoon soon creased your face feeling just how ultimately proud he was

“You achieved it because you deserved it, don’t ever doubt yourself” You rubbed your cheek against his hand, the smile still on your face and Sunghoon quickly put the paper in hand down and carefully pulled you onto his lap

You squeaked when you landed on his lap as he continued to crease your face as he stared at you with pure admiration. “So proud of my baby” He murmured as he planted softly kisses against your arm

You giggled the moment his mouth came to contact with your skin and you could feel his smile to your giggles, his arms snaking around your body, holding you firm on his lap.

“You deserve a reward don’t you? For such an achievement” He spoke as he looked to you and you shyly nodded your head because no matter how many times you were in this position you will still feel butterflies in your stomach

“I have to meet some deadlines this afternoon so give me a few minutes okay?” Your smile soon turned to a slight frown but you nodded your head in understanding

Sunghoon’s heart shattered seeing the frown on your face and he immediately offered something to help ease you until he could properly give you the treatment you deserve.

“Come sit on me mhm? Just to bay your aching self” You immediately perked at Sunghoon’s alternative and you were quick to start unbuckling his belt

He chuckled lowly seeing just how eager you were as you pulled your own pants down. “It’s almost as if you only work hard to get things from me” He joked, he knows it wasn’t true, you were naturally a hard worker but he liked to teased

When you pulled out his cock from his pants, you nearly salivated forgetting just how much you loved it. You saw how it softly twitched in your hand as it was slowly hardening. You smiled softly before pulling your panties to the side, you didn’t expect to need any prep because of the amount of arousal leaking out of you just by his praises alone.

You teased his growing angry tip with your hole and you slightly hisses thinking you would’ve been able to take it without prep but you overestimated yourself.

Sunghoon saw how your face contorted from the sudden stretch you thought you could handle and at first he was going to help you but as he saw you struggled to take him, he decided to let you take the lead.

His hands found their way to your hips to help steady yourself as you finally began to sink on him. Your soft gasp and whimpers and the way you clenched around him fueled Sunghoon to the moon. He tried to control himself from throwing everything off his desk to absolutely pound into you.

But he remembered he only offered you to sit on him until he finishes his work to meet his deadlines, but he was foolish to not think of his own being in this matter. He was snapped out of his thoughts when you bottomed out, you and him slightly hissing, you at the stretch and Sunghoon from the clench.

He rubbed circles on your hips. “You okay baby?” His words made you weakly nod, resting your forehand with his

He closed his eyes to be in the moment of having you in his arms, you wrapped so intimately around him. He soon found your lips with his as he gave you a loving kiss which you reciprocated with ease. You hummed happily in his kiss as your hands held the side of his face.

“I have to finish my deadline baby” Sunghoon told in between the kiss but you didn’t want to let him go just yet

“Five more minutes please” You pleaded as you pulled away and he couldn’t say no to you, he grabbed the back of your nape before brining your lips back onto his

You smiled happily in the kiss as you continued to sit on his lap, feeling his cock twitch every now, desperately wanting to move but not able to just yet.

When he pulled away from the kiss, your lips chased after his for a few more seconds and he smiled warmly at your actions.

“The quicker I finish this, the quicker I’m yours” He soothed your hips and ass that stayed pressed against him

You sighed heavily before turning around, you and him gasping at the small friction created, craving more but both of knocking yourself out of that haze.

You faced your back towards him as you poorly dragged your laptop to continue working.

Sunghoon weakly smiled before grabbing the discarded paper he was grading, before adjusting his glasses up his nose bridge as he continued reading over it.

A casual debriefing with your favorite professor.

✎ᝰ。

“Today you will be working in pairs for the assignment. Choose your partner carefully” Sunghoon announced dismissing the students that were quick to mingle with one another to see who would be willingly to be their partners

You remained sitting at your seat before placing your headphones on and beginning to tap away at your keyboard having the intent to finish the assignment quickly wanting to take a nap before going on the rest of your day.

You worked alone on every group or paired assignment Sunghoon assigned as he deemed it unfair how people would only pair up with you to have the intentions of taking advantage of your intelligence to get themselves a high mark.

So Sunghoon didn’t allow others to pair up with you which bothered you at first but you soon enjoyed it as you were able to go at the pace you wanted and complete the assignment the way you wanted to.

As you happily typed away searching through the textbook with your music playing. You were too engrossed in the assignment that you were brought back to reality when you felt a faint tap on your shoulder.

You looked away from your laptop to see a guy you’ve never seen before. His mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear him, you pulled on the side of your headphone away from your ear to listen.

“Oh I was speaking to you when you had headphones in, I’m sorry” He rambled out the apology as he nervously fiddled with his fingers, you could hear the hint of some type of accent in his voice as you waved him off to not worry about it

“I’m sorry to bother you, I just saw that you were working alone and I was wondering if you would like to partner up with me” The guys shyly asked as he rubbed his nape awkwardly waiting for your response

“I’m Jake by the way, I didn’t introduce myself earlier” The said Jake guy smiled and you gave a heartfelt smile in return “And you are?“

Your eyes widen at his question, Jake didn’t know who you were. But instead of being offended as others thought you would be if people didn’t know you were, it felt like a breath of fresh air.

You were so used to people having exceptions for you and you didn’t mind them knowing that it’s how you presented yourself but it was nice to know someone who was oblivious to who you were.

You introduced yourself to Jake and he continued to give you a kind smile before asking if he could take the seat next to you. You decided to indulge in this waif of fresh air in the form of Jake just a little, you had a good feeling that he wouldn’t be using you just to get a high mark.

However, you didn’t realize the piercing gaze that shot towards you from the professor’s podium. Sunghoon gripped the side of the podium tightly that he might’ve left indents but he didn’t care.

Seeing you suddenly became all chatty with someone set something ugly in him. The way you were smiling at the guy who awfully took a seat close to you made something in him rot. Why were you smiling like that?

Yet, Sunghoon found it even more sickening that his students took notice the new pair of you and Jake. They knew Sunghoon’s rule that no one was allowed to pair up with you to provide fairness which was half true so why wasn’t he applying the rule onto Jake? He wondered that himself but he saw how you looked relaxed in his presence and he decided to let you have your little fun.

What was supposed to be a paired project that took up the whole class, was completed by you and Jake not even 30 minutes later after assigning it and that bothered Sunghoon greatly.

You were laughing at something Jake said as you were walking up to Sunghoon’s desk and when you reached it, you immediately knew something was off. Instead of raising his head to give you his undivided attention like always, he didn’t bother to look up.

He kept his gaze down at his desk that was scattered with papers and he only motioned for you lay the paper down at the corner of the desk instead of handing it to him to grade immediately.

Your stomach churned as you noticed Sunghoon was treating you differently today. He didn’t utter a single remark to you on how you finished early and only remained silent.

You stayed frozen for a moment in shock to his new behavior towards you but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest and this made your heart hurt.

Jake faintly called your name to garner your zoned attention and when you finally began peeling yourself away from his desk, Sunghoon finally called out your name.

You turned almost immediately that you hoped no one noticed. You saw Sunghoon skimming through yours and Jake’s completed paper, his grimace growing by the second.

“Please meet me in my office later to discuss your performance in my class” Sunghoon said before placing the paper back down, letting out a disappointed sigh as he adjusted his glasses

Your heart dropped. You could only aimlessly nod your head as your mind reeled with questions and worry.

“Uh do you need to see me as well Mr. Park?” Jake chimed in and Sunghoon didn’t even dare to look at Jake and shook his head

“No, this only concerns her. She is the top student and it would pain the whole university to see her slip up” Sunghoon’s words cut through you like a knife and you tried to hold back the tears that burned your eyes

You hated when you were talked down upon, especially when it came to your academics and Sunghoon knew that perfectly well.

✎ᝰ。

You softly knocked on Sunghoon’s office door at the usual time for the ‘debriefings’ and he called you in with a tone that you had never heard before. You struggled to swallow down as you stepped into his office and having to be on the receiving end of Sunghoon’s harsh gaze.

It was as if your brain went into autopilot as you fell into you usual routine whenever you were in his office. You closed the door behind you, making sure it’s locked, dropping your bag on the chair in front of his desk and going over to his side to give him a kiss.

But right when you were going to kiss him, Sunghoon jerked away from you adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. You blinked unexpected by his actions as the unease started to settle in your stomach more as you stared at him as he motioned for to sit but not in your usual seat reserved for you.

Forced to sit in the seat that he made everyone else sit on. You could feel your heart crawling to your throat as your heavy steps took you to the chair in front of him, grabbing your bag before placing it on your lap.

“Do you know I asked for you here?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow as he rested his elbow on his desk

Your eyes shifted from him and onto your lap as you fiddled with your fingers and you could hear his heavy sigh at your lack of response. “Well you should’ve checked your work before submitting it to me” He told

Your eyes widen as it finally registered in your mind. You made to triple check the work before submitting it to Sunghoon and you knew it was correct. But hearing it from his harsh tones made your eyes watered with tears as you believed his words that you were in fact slipping up.

Sunghoon noticed your demeanor dropping at his words and he wanted to ease your growing frantic self, always despising seeing you like this as he knew you took your academics very seriously, but a greater rage burned him that made him overlook you.

“You know we take academic here very serious, especially yours. Do you know how much it pained me to give you a failing grade on the assignment?” Your jaw dropped as you let out a shivered breath

You’ve never failed an assignment before so hearing that that you received your very first failing grade especially it being from Sunghoon’s class made your world crash down.

You stared at him with fear spreading across your face and you almost broke down right then and there.

“I-I failed it?” Your voice was shaky as you tried to keep your composure as you stared to Sunghoon with teary eyes

Of course you didn’t actually fail the assignment, you excelled in it like you always did. However, Sunghoon was so bothered that most of the answers weren’t in your handwriting but rather by someone else’s, your partner, Jake.

It aggravated him skimming over the paper seeing the doodles he usually loves smeared with someone else’s doodles along side yours.

There were signs of multiple tic tac toe rounds on the paper with little notes saying ‘I win’ or ‘You lose’ in your handwriting that was responded to by Jake’s writing of ‘I’ll win next round’ or ‘I’ll destroy you’.

I’ll destroy you.

Sunghoon wanted to burn the paper to atoms acting like it never existed in the first place but he couldn’t do that. He had to put the grade in for his favorite student.

“It breaks my heart to put the grade in” Sunghoon sighed but you quickly weeped in pure desperation

“Sunghoon it’ll drop my grade down, it’ll cause my overall GPA to drop! Please don’t put it in. I’ll do anything! Just please don’t put it in the grade book” Your sniffled pleas set something off in Sunghoon as he saw the tears spilling from your eyes, in his eyes you were the prettiest crier

“Anything?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow and you quickly got up from the seat and dropped yourself down to your knees in front of him as you stared up to him with teary eyes

It wasn’t your first time being in this position, but it was the first time that you were doing this in order to avoid a failing grade. But you simply couldn’t afford it.

Sunghoon got up from his chair before crouching to meet at your level. “Aw my good girl knows just what to do” He hummed warmly as you lips quivered from held back sobs

He wiped your tears away with his thumb with a sinister look in his eye before taking place back in his chair as he manspread in front of you, waiting for you to crawl to him.

You felt humiliated having to do this but your grade was at stake and you couldn’t allow a slip up, you needed to make sure everyone was aware that you still and forever will be the top student.

As you kneeled before Sunghoon, he tried to suppress the smirk daring to grow on his face. You looked absolutely perfect before him and just like Jake’s words. “I’ll destroy you baby” He softly murmured creasing the side of your face, a sign of endearment instead of the cold stoic felling he was showing you beforehand

As you fondled with his belt and slacks in order to bring them to his mid thigh just enough for you to pull out his heavy cock that leaked with precum at the tip.

You knew what you needed to do as you began softly stroking his cock with your hands. Sunghoon groaned lowly as he watched your hands wrap around his cock before moving up and down dragging out the movements. “Better start working faster than that baby”

You replaced your hands with your mouth as dragged your tongue from the base all the way to his tip’s slit. Sunghoon threw his head back letting a rubble erupt from his chest as you began to leave feather kisses at his tip before opening your mouth to suck him.

As your mouth began to close around him, he closed his eyes forgetting just how wonderful your mouth was to him. “Damnit baby” His breathless pants continued as you bobbed your head up and down trying to find the pace that always set him on the edge

You tried to swallow him whole as you managed to bottom him out, feeling him in the back of your throat. You gagged trying to hold your place there as much as you could before ripping yourself away for air.

You panted heavily with a string of saliva connecting your lips to Sunghoon’s cock and he smirked widely at this. You gulped still trying to catch your breath before connecting your lips back onto his tip as your tongue swirled around, trying to clean him from all the precum.

You looked up to him to see him staring at you as if you were the only person left in the world. You maintained eye contact with him as you sucked, the wet noises filling his office.

Sunghoon’s mind reeled in the feeling of your mouth as he let out breathless grunts and groans as he felt your hands fondling with his aching balls as you continued to suck him for all his worth. As he was getting lost in the sensation his hands instinctively came to the top of your head as he began to buck his hips into your mouth. “You’d let me fuck your pretty mouth won’t you?”

You gagged as his cock slipped deeper into your throat, spit forming at the side of your mouth as you weakly nodded your head and that was all Sunghoon needed to use your throat.

He adjusted himself, feeling how you became pliant in his hands as he bobbed your head and down his length to meet his harsh thrust. You placed your hands on his knees, gagging loudly as tears burned your eyes more as Sunghoon continued to use your mouth for his own pleasure.

“Just like that baby, fuck. You’re so perfect for me” He groaned out, you weren’t able to respond as he continued to use your mouth and you could tell he was already close as his thrust became more frantic chasing his release

After a few more harsh thrust, his seed spilled in your throat and he groaned loudly as he pulled you away to have his cum shoot onto your face and shirt.

When Sunghoon finally came down from his high, he was breathing heavily trying to come back from the high of the mind goggling head you always give him but he saw the sight in front of him.

Your face and shirt stained with his release as you looked to him with doe eyes and he grabbed your jaw forcing you to open to see if you swallowed the little remnants you got before he pulled away.

He stroked your face lovingly as he saw that there was nothing left behind. He scooped the spurts of cum on your face with his finger and bringing it to your mouth. You knew what he wanted and you gave it him as you sucked his finger clean.

Sunghoon brought you up from your knees to bring you into a rough kiss. The kiss was reverent as his hold on you was tight. “Gonna make sure you don’t remember your name, let alone that fuckass partner of yours” Sunghoon gruff out before flipping you over his desk where student’s paper were soon scattered everywhere

Hearing his words made you realized that his behavior stemmed from unnecessary jealousy caused by Jake. You were surprised seeing just how jealous he got and it sent a wave straight down to your aching heat.

Yet, you shirked when the cold air suddenly hit your bare bottom “You soaked right through your panties” Sunghoon’s finger grazed your drenching core “You’re so wet… Just for me right baby?” You lambently nodded your head, losing yourself in the small friction

“All for you” You breathed out and before you realized, Sunghoon was already sinking into you. You gasped loudly at the unexpected intrusion, feeling the familiar stretch of his cock breaking you

“H-hoon!” You whimpered as you tried to get accustomed to the burn but Sunghoon didn’t listen to your pleas as he already began to move in your tight hole

“Sucking me in so good” Sunghoon chuckled as you gripped the ends of his desk feeling your body jolting from his shallow thrust “Hoonie” You strained out a moan but he was quick to send a spank to your ass

“That’s not my name- damnit no matter how many times I split you open you’re still so tight” He let out as he fully sunk in, groaning at how tight you were clenching around him

And without anytime for you catch your breath from the familiar stretch, he was already slipping in and out of you as he was soon finding a fast rhythmic pace that had you seeing stars.

The office filled with your moans and sound of skin slapping, “S-sir please faster” You whined knowing that you shouldn’t have asked for something you couldn’t handle but you were already too beyond any rational thinking

“You wanna get fucked like the slut you are? Is that why you were practically flirting with him? Just to get my attention so that I can bend you over my desk and breed your pussy?” His fingers dug into your hips as he started to pound into you with no remorse, his tip bruising your cervix and you could feel the wind knocked out of you as you became a moaning mess

“Answer me slut” He gave another smack to your ass and you groaned at the stinging sensation, trying to form any sort of coherent words

“Y-yes- Breed me” Your few words only soared Sunghoon’s pride as he wrapped his bicep around your head to press your body against his as you threw your head back, your whines filling his ears

“Cream on my cock baby, just like how you were molded to” The noise in his office were beyond obscene, the wet noises mixing in with the skin on skin and his degrading words made you dizzy

Sunghoon could tell you were close as you were clenching around him tighter and tighter until you came all over his ramming cock. You moaned loudly as he helped you ride out your high but instead of slowing down, he only continued faster.

You tried to claw at his forearms in hopes for him to slow down as you felt your knees giving out on you and if not for him holding you up by his biceps, you would’ve fallen to the ground. You were beyond overstimulated but Sunghoon didn’t care as he continued to chase his own high.

“Fucking slut wanted to get fucked so badly… Had to do anything- S-shit! Just to get my attention” Your mouth stayed opened as all noises fell from it as your mind became hazy from the overstimulation, his relentless thrust and the headlock he had you in

You were too far gone but deep down, you wouldn’t be mad if he decided to fuck you like this every time. “S-sir” You chanted out nonstop

“What was your partner’s name? Tell me” Your body kept moving with his thrust and you could feel yourself losing it, “I asked for his name slut” And you know you shouldn’t have responded, you should’ve acted oblivious but you wanted to add fuel to the blaring fire

“Ja-Ja..k-“ You couldn’t even finish saying Jake’s name as Sunghoon’s headlock tighten around you and somehow his pace only become even more animalistic than what it already was. You held back a scream as you could feel a second wave of your orgasm building up.

“Say his name again and see what the fuck happens” Sunghoon warned before letting you out of his headlock having you body fall forward onto his desk as his hand pressed against your back to keep you there as his freehand had it’s fingers immediately find their way to your swollen clit begging for attention

You squealed as he rubbed your clit before adding tight pinches causing you to only thought of him, Sunghoon, Sir, Hoon, Hoonie, your favorite professor, Mr. Park.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your second orgasm crash over your stimulated body. “Shit baby shit, just… Ahh- a little more. Gonna breed this pussy the way it was meant to”

‘You’ll remember who can only do this to you” Sunghoon started rambling, “I’m the only one that breed your pussy this good” His thrust became sloppy and you could feel his cock twitching inside you.

And when he gave the final harsh thrust, jolting your body forward causing some papers to fall off his desk, you whimpered feeling his hot release spurt into you, painting your velvet wall all white of him.

Sunghoon gave a few more painful thrust to make sure he fucked his cum deep into you before pulling out. You whined feeling suddenly empty without him inside you.

Sunghoon saw how your mixed released dripped down your thigh and he admired the scene. How ruined you were because of him. His finger scooped up the falling cum only to shove it back into your gaping hole, you whimpered at the intrusion of his fingers but he gave pepper kisses on your back.

“Shh it’s okay” He hummed before carefully peeling your body off his desk that was now an even more of a mess

The afterglow you had could be seen from miles away and Sunghoon smiled warmly as he brought your sensitive body toward him to cradle you as he sat in his chair with you on his lap. “You did so good baby, took everything I gave you”

You relished in the praise but it soon creeped back into your mind of why this had happened in the first place. “F-fail?” Was all you could murmur and Sunghoon cooed at you before softly slipping his fingers over your body towards your overstimulated clit

Your body jolted from his fingers as you whined shaking your head, trying to peel his fingers away from your swollen bud not able take anymore but Sunghoon shook his head.

“You can give me another one baby, I know you can” You whimpered as your attempt were futile as his fingers began rubbing over the bud in a painfully slow circular motion “Let me take care of you. Then we can see if you still failed or not”

✎ᝰ。

When you finally made it back home that night after being dropped off by Sunghoon who made sure to give you an extra longer of a kiss at your front door, you landed straight onto your bed, absolutely exhausted from the rounds Sunghoon had put you through.

You always forget how high his stamina is and you know unlocked another level of his stamina by ten folds that only shined when his jealousy was through the roof.

You weakly pulled out your phone to see a message wishing you a goodnight and hope that you sleep well by Sunghoon and you chuckled softly to yourself, making sure to reply to him before going to check your grade for the paired assignment that you were afraid of seeing a failing grade instead of a passing one.

But with the little energy left in your body, you sat up on your bed, immediately smiling seeing the 104 percent left by Mr. Park for the paired assignment with a single comment left by him, ‘Good job’.

Even though it was simple comment, you knew it was only directed to you and not Jake (Sunghoon heavily expressed rather negative opinions about him in the car ride to yours even though Jake did no wrong).

Your heart filled to the brim seeing not only had you received full marks on the assignment, but you also received an extra 4 points just for being such a good student, his favorite student.

✎ᝰ。

Time flew by as it was soon reaching the end of the second half of the semester before going on summer break. And as time was passing, it caused an unsettling unease to rest in your heart. The ‘relationship’ you had established with Sunghoon ever since winter break only continued to blur as you didn’t know what you two even were. You knew the two of you were intimate sexually but you always became confused when it came to romantic aspect of things.

But on Sunghoon’s end he never really used words to begin with, he rather used actions to express what he was feeling for you (even if you were oblivious to them).

You didn’t realize that whenever you would complain to Sunghoon about running out of your favorite chapstick it somehow magically appeared placed at your seat with a sticky note that had written on ‘:)’ or when you felt overwhelmed about some long project that none of your other partners were working on, expecting you to do all the work, which somehow ended up with you receiving full credit while the rest of your partners received nothing.

Sunghoon loved to shower you in his affection of gift giving, ranging from something easy like flowers everyday to the latest tiffany & co. necklace and bracelet set he thought suited you the best. Whatever you could possibly think of having and wanting, he would get it for you in a flash.

But with all of his actions, it was unclear to you where his feelings lied for you.

Even though he would randomly show up at your doorstep just because he missed you and wanted to see to you which always ended up having you and him cuddle in your bed until the next morning as you both rushed to the university after sleeping past the alarms in each other’s arms.

It didn’t mean he cared about you the same way you cared about him. He could easily just be doing all of that to make sure you stick around in which he did a good job because the sheer thought of some else entering the picture and have Sunghoon leave you in the dust always kept you up at night, fear eating you from the inside out.

But your worst nightmare came true as in walked someone else, another rising star student.

She transferred last year from another prestigious university and she was known to be the top student but when she transferred, she was placed in the 5th slot of the top 5 fives students, you still remaining in the 1st slot.

It was impossible of how she didn’t hear about you. She heard praises left and right for you for simply walking by and she was curious. That’s when she realized you were the top 1 student in the entire university. That was when she was determined to achieve the top 1 spot for herself. She began in the year she transferred to bypass all of the top 3 students to secure her spot in the top 2, just below you.

When you finally heard of a rising student and how she bypassed the top 3 students in a short amount of time and was now top 2, you were impressed instead of bothered as the gap between you two was unshakeable.

But you didn’t realized how she was willing to do anything in order to take the number 1 spot from you. It was nothing personal towards you but you were the pride and joy of the university and she was simply wanted the title for herself.

So when she heard she would be sharing a class with you in the beginning of the first term, she was excited to see how both of you would perform in the hardest taught on campus by the strictest teacher Mr. Park.

She’s heard from other students taking the class that it wasn’t easy and barely anyone was able to pass it with the minimum required grade and this piqued her interest seeing how the top 1 student would succumb to the pressure in order to ensure her replacement of your high title.

But she soon realized that she was the one rather falling behind as the marks on her papers kept decreasing slowly but surely. While, you were receiving 100 percents with ease and would even receive extra credit sometimes and she was aggravated by this it.

She completely lost it when she saw the 75 percent on her paper from the paired assignment. When she glanced over to you when you received your paper only to see how you had scored a whopping 104 percent, which she didn’t know was even possible.

People congratulated you (and Jake) for being the highest mark out of the entire student body taking the course. Your wide smile as you accepted the compliments infuriated her, she wanted to wipe that smile right off your face.

And so she decided to attack the root cause, as she found herself in front of the very professor’s office that she couldn’t seem to pass with high remarks. She was hesitant on knocking, never really speaking to her professor during class especially outside of it for anything, choosing to silently struggle. She was worried Mr. Park hadn’t even paid attention to her because he had you taking his course (especially being in the same class as her).

She was living in your shadow and she was growing tired of it. She wanted to be adored by everyone just like how you were and set the curve. And hopefully talking to Mr. Park will help her achieve the little stepping stone she needed in order to determine her victory against you.

She softly knocked before overthinking anymore as she waited for a moment and that’s when she finally heard a faint ‘come in’.

Now any living being would tell you Mr. Park was undeniably attractive that it was actually sickening that someone like him existed and was teaching as a professor. She was no exception, seeing him in white button up, his jacket covering over his body as his infamous clear glasses rested perfectly on his nose bridge set an unspeakable fire in her.

“Hello Mr. Park” Her voice was unknowingly becoming smaller as his harsh gaze met her nervous ones

How you were able to approach him with such ease while everyone else struggled blew her mind but she remembered no one else was receiving 100 plus marks in his class besides you so she quickly diminished that thought.

“Good evening, I don’t believe you’ve set up an appointment or may have I missed it? Let me double check, please sit down” Sunghoon motioned to the seat in front of his desk which she accepted, she couldn’t dare tell him that she didn’t make an appointment to meet with him

She looked around his office to see it neatly done to a T expected from her professor. Her eyes caught sight of a random chair in the corner of his office. She furrowed her eyebrows but Sunghoon’s quickly brought her attention back and away from the chair.

“I don’t seem to have you down for an appointment, if you wish to discuss anything with me. Please make an appointment beforehand with the link provided in your online syllabus” Sunghoon told before brining his attention back to his work in front of him

“W-wait M-Mr. Park. I really need to talk to you, it’s important” Sunghoon stopped and placed the papers down before sighing heavily, he normally doesn’t do this but he was in a good mood since you stopped by during his lunch break just because you wanted to see him so he let it slide this one time

“This will only a one time thing. I do not excuse carelessness, if you wish to speak make an appointment on the provided schedule” Sunghoon told before motioning her to speak and she was dumb founded, all rationality left her mind

Her mind reeled as she spoke the first thing that came to her head, “Do you work out Mr. Park?” She tried to put on her best sultry voice hoping it would achieve what she wanted

Sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows and stared at her, “Excuse me?”

“Seeing the 75 on the paired assignment made me so sad and I-I just wanted to let you know that I’m willing to do anything to change my grade” She pleaded helplessly hoping that he would give into her pleas to have her grade change

He knew he was a hypocrite for his next choice of words but he didn’t need anyone else, especially when he had you. “Please remove yourself my office and I will choose to ignore such requests” Sunghoon sighed realizing what she was trying to insinuate, this wasn’t the first time someone had tried to come to him to give him whatever he ‘wanted’ in exchange to get their grade up

She pouted harshly having been denied and Sunghoon almost showed his grimace at her pout, her pout wasn’t yours. But she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

She made her way up from the chair and Sunghoon thought she was leaving but what he didn’t expect was her to suddenly turn around and walk over to his side of the desk and drop to her knees in front of him.

He jumped back in his chair as he adjusted himself as he stared at her in shock. “What are you doing?” Sunghoon asked and she looked up to him with an attempt of doe eyes and instead of feeling aroused like she had hoped, he felt sick

He wasn’t going to do anything with anyone else. He already you and he was never going to let that go.

She put her hair into a makeshift ponytail with her hands as she blinked her eyes innocently to him as she silently was offering herself. But Sunghoon looked away from her and motioned for her to stand up “Get up” Sunghoon’s authoritative tone made her weak in her knees and she thought that he was finally caving in to her

Yet, right when she was going to stand she heard a faint knock at his office door and Sunghoon immediately recognized that knock as yours. His heart rate jumped, he took a glance towards the clock to see that you were right on time for your ‘debriefings’ and he knew this scene looked completely wrong and he couldn’t possibly have you get any wrong idea.

But Sunghoon whipped his head when she saw her shuffling under his desk and he shook his head violently as she brought a finger to her lips to shush him but he wasn’t having any of it. “I am not going to repeat myself, get up” He warned which caused her let out a loud huff which didn’t go unnoticed by you on the other side of the door,

When she was going to place the faintest kiss on his knee through his pants, he jerked his leg away before she could do so. She sadly pouted before getting up from her previous position. She had mischievous smirk on her face, believing she had won in some type of way.

She grabbed her bag from the chair as she went over to the door and right before opening it, she send a playful wink towards her professor. “Thank you again Mr. Park” She spoke as opening the door and there she saw you standing innocent and oblivious to what was happening his Sunghoon’s office

Your eyes widen in shock seeing her leave Sunghoon’s office, you never once saw her here before let alone even speak to him during class.

Her smirk grew wider seeing you before holding her head high, discreetly wiping her lips with her fingers before happily greeting you.

“Oh? What you doing here?” She innocent raised an eyebrow almost as if mocking you

“Letter recommendation” You curtly responded which was a lie, you were here for the ‘debriefings’ you and Sunghoon always had but you don’t remember him telling you that he was going to be occupied beforehand

She smiled not saying anything else as she walked past you without a goodbye. You could feel and hear the silent screams she was giving you as she left you which all lead from the very startled professor that was now in front of you at the door.

You took in his appearance, he still looked like his formal self. Still neatly dressed from head to toe, his hair still intact but that didn’t ease the unsettling pain in your chest.

“How can I help you?” Sunghoon made room for you to enter his office, trying everything in his power to remain professional

You stopped your quivering lips as you shook your head, “Nothing, I thought I needed something but I don’t need it anymore” You emptily told before turning your heel and walking away from your professor

Sunghoon was stunned as this was the first time you never stayed for the debriefings and he could feel his heart squeeze as it settled in his mind everything was far from okay. His hands turned into fist in order to prevent himself from chasing after you, not caring who would see but he needed to remind himself that he was not your boyfriend. He was just your professor, someone that you were seeing that was hopelessly head over heels for you.

✎ᝰ。

Now he expected for it to be a simple misunderstanding that he could clear up with a few messages and going over to yours. But every time he tried to even reach you, you dodged him like a plague and acted like he didn’t even exist. The daily talks and messages became shorter and shorter until you were leaving him on delivered for hours on end only to see his message and not even respond.

You stopped coming for ‘debriefings’ all together and it was if nothing had ever happened between the two of you and he was slowly losing himself the more time he went without you. He knew you ways he shouldn’t but he did, neither you or him could ever forget that no matter how hard you tried.

What starting driving him to insanity were times where he saw you leaving his class without a glance towards him a the old lingering gaze shared was long forgotten as it was replaced with you staring at Jake as you laughed and smiled at something he told you.

And he knew it was highly unprofessional of him to even think this but Sunghoon felt the urge every time to throw a punch at Jake anytime he saw you two together.

Sunghoon’s biggest fear was coming true, you leaving him when he was already in too deep. He knew he had to act quickly before it was too late and he lost the only thing that mattered in his life. He needed to bring you back to him.

✎ᝰ。

It was the last day of the semester right before summer break and after finishing all finals (with the highest mark as always) and completing the finals assignments needed to ensure to leave the two terms with ease and remaining in your spot as the top student in the university.

You haven’t spoken much to Sunghoon during the past few leading up till this day. You knew it was rather childish on your part but something in your head told you that Sunghoon no longer needed you as he was seeming to be fulfilled by someone else that wasn’t you(even though he never forgot about you once, always making sure to send messages to you every morning and night just in case one day you decide to finally answer him).

As you and Jake were leaving Sunghoon’s last lecture, he was starting to ask you something, “So I was wondering if you would-“ but he was interrupted by the call of your name from Sunghoon who motioned for you to stay behind.

You were going to ignore him but your body had a mind of its own as you bid goodbye to Jake easily before discreetly taking a gulp as you hadn’t spoken properly to him and he was finally taking initiative in person.

‘I-I’ll wait for you outside!” Jake told and you gave a quick wave back before making your way over to Sunghoon’s desk and when it was finally just the two of you, Sunghoon’s dark chuckle rippled throughout the empty lecture hall

“Meet me in my office at the usual time” But before you could muster any type of response to avoid him, he motioned for you to stop, “I said meet me in my office, that is final” You should’ve said no but you were weak for him as sighed in defeated before muttered under your breath

“Why don’t you ask her to meet you in your office…” Sunghoon heard your muttered and his eyebrows furrowed and his lips twitched

“Because I need you in my office” Sunghoon told before lowering his voice to make sure you could only hear him, “Now be a good girl and listen” His voice sent shivers up your spine and you frowned before muttering a small ‘whatever’ before walking away

He smirked, pleased with your reaction as he was realizing you were jealousy, a possessive jealousy you had over him laid in his heart nicely.

✎ᝰ。

You softly knocked on Sunghoon’s office door as you always used do and your expected hearing his usual ‘come in’. But you were surprised to see him see opening the door for you.

You stared at him in shock as he moved to make room for you to come in. You gulped and awkwardly stepped in as it finally sunk into your mind of how long it has been since you were last in Sunghoon’s office, let alone in his presence in uh a close proximity.

But your mind filled with a distraught thought of what you thought to have happened between Sunghoon and the girl during the time that you and Sunghoon weren’t personally seeing each other outside of his lectures.

You wanted to light the whole office on fire to destroy any residue that the girl could’ve possible left behind. You hated that she was inside such a sacred place to you and what you thought was for Sunghoon too.

“Why did you want to meet with me?” You were in no mood to mess around and quickly wanted to get whatever he wanted done and over with

You saw how Sunghoon closed the door and easily locked the door and you knew you were in for it. “I’ve missed you as simple as that” He truthfully told before taking strides towards you, “How come my baby has been ignoring me?“ Sunghoon brought down the cold demeanor he shows everyone besides you, only you were the only one to ever see this side, the down right bad side of Sunghoon for you

You closed your eyes and shifted your head not wanting his words to work on you. But when you felt Sunghoon’s frame from behind goosebumps filled your body as his breath fanned over the shell of your ear with his hands finding their way to your waist. “Well? Why have you been ignoring me?”

You shivered as his words cut through you and you bit your lip to prevent yourself from speaking but the way Sunghoon’s hands carefully ran up the side of your body, his breath filling your ears, you could feel yourself melting.

“You were with her, didn’t think you wanted me anymore” When Sunghoon heard your response he stopped the running of his hands and let out a scoff, how could you have possibly think that?

“Baby you’re all I ever want. I was never with her in the first place nor would I ever even think about having someone else when I have you” Sunghoon’s voice rippled in your head as you tried to finally understand what he’s been telling you from the start

“But she was in your office” You mumbled, “She wiped her lips in front of me like a mockery. She was setting her claim on you” You huffed out feeling the anger rise in you, remembering the moment that has been haunting you nonstop

“But you already made your claim on me”

“I can only hold one and I choose to hold yours” Sunghoon turned your body to fully face him and he saw how your eyes refused to meet his causing him to smile, he lifted your head up by your chin, “Baby I’m forever yours”

You finally looked to meet his eyes and you could see nothing but sincerity in them and you could feel the warmth melt into you. “You promise?” You murmured and he nodded his head

“I promise my whole life on it” You finally allowed yourself to indulge in the very thing you’ve been longing for ever since you deprived yourself of it, you grabbed his nape before bringing his lips to crash onto yours. All tension and unease melted away in the kiss and Sunghoon engulfed you in his arms as he held your body close to his

Your and his lips worked in synchronization like they were made for each other, Sunghoon tried to pour all of emotions into that kiss as it was soon growing sloppier by the minute. “What about Jake? Always saw him with you, I was losing my mind seeing the way you were smiling at him” He gasped in the kiss before moving to plant kisses onto your cheek and neck, you hummed feeling the sensation as you shook your head

“He’s just a friend, a mere distraction from you” You responded and you could feel the way Sunghoon’s grip tightened around you before chuckling against your skin

“A friend now huh? What else happened when you weren’t talking to me?” He asked, detaching himself from you to hold your hips in his hands, you could see the familiar glint in his eyes as he stared at you like a starved man

He brought his lips to whisper in your ear, “You let him fuck your used up pussy?” The degrading words made you clench around nothing and Sunghoon could feel the way you knees slightly buckled at his words

“I got you baby don’t worry” He assured you before attaching his mouth back onto your lips before sucking on your sweet spot causing you hands to tangle in his hair

“Never” You let out a breathless moan as you could feel how he nibbled on your sweet spot before soothing it by running his tongue over it

“Good girl” He gently guided your body to have your back pressed against his desk as his breath fanning yours as he rested his forehead on yours, “I missed you so much, you don’t even understand how much I did” Sunghoon tenderly held you as he softly recaptured your lips with his

You wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands rested on your hips, “Missed you too, so much” You spoke in the kiss causing your teeth to clash together as the kiss became desperate

Sunghoon broke away from the kiss to let himself softly play with the top of your pants, “Let me take care of you baby, need to show you just how important you are to me” You nodded your head with need, letting Sunghoon bring your pants and panties down all in one shot before guiding you to sit on his desk, discarding everything on it

When he caught sight of your glistening of your lips, he almost let out a groan before allowing his fingers to spread your lips apart, “So wet for me”

“H-hoonie” The nickname that was only reserved for you to use fell from your mouth as a moan

“Gonna show you that you’re all I ever need” Sunghoon told before looking into your eyes and letting his finger slipped past your slick and into you, you gasped and threw your head down.

“Always ready for whatever I give you. You’re such a good girl” He kissed the side of your face ad he pumped his finger slowly in and out of you

You whimpered as his finger alone sent you to heights that you never reached by yourself. “You’re being so good for me, you’re the best of the best. No one ever comes close to you” Sunghoon’s praises sent your heart afloat

Sunghoon slipped another finger into you and you could feel the stretch growing as you gripped his forearm, gasping loudly as he continued to move his fingers in and out of you seeing how you coated them beautifully.

He laid your body down on his desk, as he admired how finger disappeared in your hole in need. You let your head fall back onto the desk but you immediately shot your head up when you felt the contact of Sunghoon’s tongue on your clit.

Your hands unconsciously gripped on his hair as his fingers pumped out of you as his tongue flicked over your clit before giving kisses onto it. Your moans began to loudly fill the room

“Hoonie, Hoonie, Hoonie!” You chanted his name like a prayer as he continued to bring you only what he could make you feel, a wave of pleasure washed over you as you came, forcing Sunghoon’s fingers out of you as they were covered with your release

You panted heavily trying to come back from your high and Sunghoon adored the scene in front of him. He removed his glasses to softly place them onto your panting self. When you opened your eyes in confusion, you saw how he looked at you in pure awe. You looked so beautiful in his glasses, that he made a mental note to buy you a matching pair with his.

However, you couldn’t even ask him because your body jolted when Sunghoon’s mouth came to contact with your needy self as he moaned, tasting you your sweet venom that he could get lost in.

“The sweetest thing to ever exist” He blabbed against you as he sucked harshly and letting his tongue tease your gaping hole

Your hands found their way back into his hair as he sensually ate you out to savor you. The slurps were obscene on the ears but it felt like a paradise. Sunghoon placed your legs over his shoulders in order to burry his mouth deeper in you, as he kept lapping at your pussy.

His nose finally grazing your clit without his glasses interfering and the familiar build up in your stomach soon began to rise again.

He noticed how your hole clenched around his tongue and he smirked as he gripped onto your thighs to continue to eat you like a starved man. “Cum on my tongue baby” His soft voice of encouragement made you whine as you kept letting out breathless chants of his name

His nose continued to rub over your clit and he could tell you were getting closer as your hold on his hair tightened painfully but he didn’t mind.

You felt your second orgasm shoot through you and Sunghoon hummed happily as he continued to place kisses and licks across your soaked core as you rode out your high.

When he finally disconnected from you, a string of saliva connected from his lips to you caused him to give a foolish smile at the sight. You panted heavily unable to open your eyes from the amount of pleasure you were in, as your head was against the desk but you could feel it being raised by Sunghoon.

You lazily opened your eyes to see how from his nose down, he was completely covered in you. Sunghoon rose to his feet and lifted your weak body from the desk up and brought his covered lips onto you.

You could taste yourself on him and you slightly grimaced but Sunghoon’s hand prevented you from pulling away.

“You taste how good and sweet you are? I could get lost in you forever” Sunghoon spoke as you desperately kissed him back

The kiss lasted longer than what either of you had intended but it was able to showcase the hidden feelings that you were too afraid to admit.

You were the first to pull away as he chased after your lips causing you to chuckle softly before stopping him. He opened his eyes to look directly at you and you felt the harsh flutter in your chest.

“The prettiest girl to ever grace the earth” He honestly told and your cheeks flushed wildly at his words he planted a soft kiss against them

He unbuckled his belt to bring his pants down mid-thigh, just enough to have his cock spring out after being held in the confinement of his pants for so long.

Sunghoon carefully spread your legs apart for him and your pussy shined with your arousal and release as he noticed your hole clenched around nothing, begging to be filled.

He slotted himself between your legs as he smothered his tip leaking over yourself and you gasped feeling him and your mind became dizzy from the taste of his tip alone, “I’m going to take care of you, let me do all the work baby”

His cock lined up with your entrance as he teased the tip against your gaping hole to adjust you to his size and he noticed are you were desperately trying to sink him more into you, which caused him to pull back. “Come on baby, be the good girl you are and wait”

You bit back your lip to hold back your whimper but your mouth dropped feeling Sunghoon fill you in one deep thrust.

He groaned feeling your tightness even after he prepped you, “How is it that you’re always so tight?”

“B-Big” You let out in a breath and no matter how many times you tell him that, his ego will always skyrocket from it

“I know baby but you always take everything I give you. You can handle it” Sunghoon soothed you by rubbing your thigh, letting you get adjusted to his size

As your heavy breathing subsided and you gave a weak nod as his sign that he could move, he made sure to start off slowly and drag him in and out of you.

His deep thrust was calculated to be slow and sensual as he wanted you to have it engraved in your mind that you were the only one for him.

With his deep thrust he was able to hit your sweet spot every time and you were falling apart on his cock. He noticed the daze he was putting you in as he captured your lips.

The kiss was able to speak louder than any words ever spoken between the two of you. Sunghoon thrusts in you kept repeating in the same pace and you were softly whining against his lips.

“You’re absolutely perfect” He pulled away from you place his head against the crook of your neck, his pace slowly picking up but he made sure to hit your cervix every time

“H-Ho-Hoon” You let out a broken breath but Sunghoon whispered your ear that caused your heart to quicken in its beats

“Say my name. My actual name”

“Sunghoon”

The way you breathlessly called out his name, set fireworks off in his heart. The two of you knew this simple interaction was far too intimate for just professor and student who go on dates, kiss each other senseless, lay in each others arms talking about nonsense until late in the night, and simply two people who will always get lost in each other.

“I love you” From your hazy daze, you felt a bucket of cold water splash over you as your eyes popped open hearing Sunghoon’s confession, it was the three words neither of you dared to say but seemed to mutually share

Sunghoon’s thrust continued and the twitch inside of you made your clam down on him. “Come with me baby” His words were all you both needed as you both came together

His cum shooting deep inside you, as you coated his cock with your release. Your pleasures mixing together as it forced a white ring at the base of his cock. You whimpered as his slow thrust came to a stop as he stayed inside of you.

Both you and Sunghoon coming down from your high together as your sweat covered foreheads rested against each other as the two of you panted heavily before looking into each other’s eyes.

“My beautiful girl” The pure endearment of his words filled your already swollen heart

Sunghoon noticed even though it was faint, the moment of unease in your ease caused him to look at you with confusion. Your gaze avoided his as your mind filled with only one thought. What was now going to happen between you and him now that summer break was starting.

Will you continue to see each other after the moment shared or will the two of your take your words for granted and lose each other in the process?

“What are you thinking about baby?” He softly asked as you pulled away from your forehand to look at you as you still refused to look at him

“Look at me” He softly turned your head to face him properly as he noticed your glassy eyes, he felt his heart shatter at the scene before brining your body close to him.

He carefully creased his hand over your aching body as he remained still inside you and you shivered feeling the slightest movements inside of you. The two of you stayed in silence as he silently comforted you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” He softly murmured as he could feel your mixed released trialing down your thigh that laid with his, you only nodded your head not trusting your voice to not break if you spoke

Sunghoon smiled daringly before carefully easing himself out of you and right when he did, more of the released gushed out of you. He chuckled at the scene before rubbing your thigh. “We made a mess” He joked causing you to finally let out a soft chuckle

As he grabbed tissues, he began to guide them over to clean you up, making sure to not miss a spot. And when his fingers rubbed over your sensitive self, you shivered as he whispered soft apologies placing butterfly kisses on it to help ease the overstimulation.

When you were all cleaned up, he grabbed your discarded panties and pants and your body too far sore and exhausted caused him to carefully guide them back onto you.

He quickly placed himself back in his pants and buckled his belt, allowing you to fully catch your breath without him crowding you.

When he noticed the daze look finally fading from your eyes, he carefully sat you upright before going to sit on his side of the desk. You turned your head confused to him but you let out a yelp when he brought you off his desk onto his lap.

He looked to you on his lap, creasing your face with such delicacy.

He pulled away to rummage through the first drawer of his desk until he finally found what he looking for. You could see the slight hesitate as his hands remained in his drawer, his eyes focused on the ticking clock in his office before finally pulling out an envelope.

You looked at him confused as he handed the envelope to you, ushering for you to open it. When you carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the paper in it, your hand almost dropped it in pure shock.

You read over the paper nonstop as you couldn’t believe what you were reading.

“Come to Italy with me” Your gaze moved from the bought plane tickets to Sunghoon who only stared at you with hopeful eyes

“I’m no longer your professor” Sunghoon motioned to the clock he was staring at before giving you the envelope that showed the time, 5pm, the university was officially closed for summer break.

“I meant it when I said I love you”

“And I finally want to properly be yours and make you mine” Sunghoon confessed the weight that laid on his heart as it finally lifted, he knew his feelings were risky, he was still a professor and you were still a student at the university just no longer each other’s as summer break started

Sunghoon knew he could likely get fired for this but if he had to choose between his job or you.

He would always choose you in a heartbeat. “Let’s spend our summer vacation in Italy together baby” You chuckled out a bright smile before hastily wrapping your arms around him nodding your head eagerly

“Yes, of course!” You agreed to his planned trip and Sunghoon held you tightly in return, pleased to know that he can finally properly make you his without a single worry

“Sunghoon” He hummed when he heard you faintly called out his name, “I love you too”

✎ᝰ。

: I actually can’t believe you’re in Italy right now when you told me, your friend btw in case you forgot, that we were going to spend summer break rotting away together

: But instead, you’re soft launching your boyfriend that I didn’t even know existed until now, with his arm all wrapped around you as you show off the new tiffany & co. bracelet he got you

: I hope you know I am not forgiving you until you tell me who your mystery boyfriend is so you better fess up soon

You: :)

——

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

ROOM FOR RENT

PAIRING: logan howlett x female reader

RATING: explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 5.3k

SUMMARY: logan finds a new roommate.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have logan howlett brain rot and i’m not sorry. big smooch to everyone who let me yell about this to them including @eupheme @pedgito @wannab-urs @chaotic-mystery @kedsandtubesocks @undrthelights and @murder-wife 💕

WARNINGS: post deadpool & wolverine, variant!logan howlett, able bodied reader, reader being picked up (enhanced strength babyyyy), roommates to lovers trope, meddlesome pet cat, a splash of canon typical violence - mentions of blood and knife wounds, wade wilson/deadpool appearances, mild angst, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact) - dirty talk, pain kink, biting, pet names, praise kink, oral sex - m & f receiving, a little dacryphilia during a blowjob, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, begging, size kink. if i’ve missed any, please let me know!

LINKS: masterlists | support for palestine

If Logan has to wake up to Wade's constant yapping for the rest of his life, he's going to go insane. Every morning he's jolted awake by Wade singing in the kitchen. When he notices Logan is awake, the singing stops and the one-sided conversation begins and doesn't end until Logan finally gets up from the couch and leaves the apartment with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Today, with some money in his pocket from a few odd jobs he's picked up, he finds solace in a quiet coffee shop. Sat beside a bulletin board, he scans the postings.

Art show, art show, yard sale, job opening, roommate wanted, art show--

Roommate wanted? Logan tears the paper from the pin.

Room for rent in 2 bedroom/1 bathroom apartment. One cat. Laundry on site.

He folds the ad up and stuffs the paper in the pocket of his jacket before gathering his empty coffee cup and tossing it in the trash on the way out the door, an uncharacteristic spring in his step.

Your phone rings with a number you don't recognize. You consider sending it to voicemail, already exhausted from fielding similar calls about your room for rent, but ultimately decide to answer.

"Hello?"

A man clears his throat on the other end of the line before responding with, "This the number for the rental?"

"Yep," you reply. "Were you interested in seeing it or have any questions?"

"How much is it?"

"Your half would be $950.”

"And it's a whole bedroom?"

"As opposed to a half bedroom?" You laugh at your joke but the man remains quiet and you wince. "I mean, yes. It's a whole bedroom."

"I'd like to come see it, if you've got the time."

"Sure, how's this Friday sound?" You suggest. "What's your full name?"

"Why do you need to know that?" The man's tone grows defensive and alarm bells ring in your head.

"Well, I'd like to make sure you're not, like, a wanted criminal or something," you tell him with an awkward laugh. He's quiet and for a moment you think that he may have hung up on you. "Hello?"

"Yeah, 'm still here," he sighs. "Name's Logan Howlett."

"Logan Howlett," you repeat. You give him your name in return, though he doesn't do much but grunt in acknowledgment. "Alright, well, do you have something to write down the address?"

"Just tell me, I'll remember."

After listing off the address, he ends the call with a rough goodbye. You get to work on your personal research, entering his name into a search engine.

No results.

You refresh the page, thinking that must be an error, but the same message appears.

No results.

You try spelling his name differently.

No results.

You set the phone down, anxiety starting to creep up your spine. It's hard to believe that there's absolutely nothing online about this man, who now has your full address, name, and phone number.

A sharp meow shakes you from your thoughts and you find that your cat has taken up residence on your lap, staring at you intently as his tail flicks back and forth. You run your hand over his head, scratching beneath his chin.

"You'll protect me, right?" You ask.

He leaps from your lap and struts away, fluffy tail disappearing down the hall that leads to your bedroom. You sigh.

Hopefully you haven’t just done something stupid.

Logan's attempt to leave the apartment unnoticed does not go as planned. Althea is sitting on the couch, a re-run of a talk show playing loudly, when he tries to make a run for it. He's distracted, watching her too carefully that he doesn't realize Wade has just returned from god-knows-where.

"Whatcha doin', twinkle toes?" Wade asks, startling Logan, who slams into the kitchen table with a curse.

"Fucking hell," Logan curses, rubbing his hip. "When did you get in here?"

Wade shrugs. "Sometime around the start of your 007 impression."

"My what?"

"Nevermind," Wade sighs. "You look snazzy. Got a hot date?"

"No," Logan grunts.

"A cold date, then?"

Logan pinches his nose. "No."

"Well, care to share, sugar plum? What's got you sneaking around like the Black Widow?"

"The who?"

"May she rest in peace," Wade says, tone suddenly somber.

"He's tryin' to move out," Althea chimes in. Wade's mouth drops open in shock.

"You're abandoning us?!" he exclaims. "After all we've been through?"

"Let the man do what he wants," Althea says. "Damn co-dependent freak."

"Harsh," - Wade places a hand over his chest, -"you know I have daddy issues. And mommy issues. And abandonment issues. And--"

"Enough," Logan snaps. "Yes, alright? I'm looking for a new place. I can't sleep on that couch forever."

"Is it because it smells like old people?" Wade whispers, pointing an accusatory finger to Althea, who flips him off.

"Look, this is your universe. Your timeline. Mine is gone and it's time I start making this whole thing less temporary."

Wade tilts his head and places a hand on Logan's shoulder. "My little Wolvie, all grown up," he says, wiping at a fake tear. Logan shoves his hand away, storming past him for the door.

"Remember to smile! Give 'em the ol' razzle dazzle!" Wade shouts as he slams the door behind him.

You pace your small living room and check the stove clock for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. Logan is due to see the apartment and your nerves have gone from a simmer to a full blown boil waiting for the mysterious man with no digital footprint to show up. Your cat is lounging on the windowsill, blissfully unaware of your inner panic.

Three sharp knocks at the door cause your pulse to skyrocket. You take a deep breath before crossing the short distance to the door, pulling it open with a smile.

"Hi! You must be--“

Your greeting dies on your tongue as you take in the man crowding your hallway. He's wearing a leather jacket over a white tank top that stretches tightly across a broad chest and jeans that highlight thick thighs. His dark hair is cut shorter on the sides than on the top of his head, the ends fanning out in a manner that reminds you of a cat's ears and he's sporting an impressively thick beard.

"'m Logan," he says in the same deep voice you heard over the phone, holding a hand out towards you. You slip your palm against his much larger one and you're surprised by how warm his touch is.

"H-hi," you stutter, shaking his hand. You clear your throat. "Sorry, hi. Uh, come on in."

You move aside to let him through the doorway, not missing the fact that his shoulders practically brush the frame as he steps inside. Your apartment opens up directly into the living room and kitchen with a small dining area set in between and you gesture around.

"Well, this is most of it, to be honest. I know it's not much but--"

"It's quiet," Logan interrupts. "Ain't used to quiet."

"Where, uh," -- you twist the hem of your shirt -- "where are you coming from? Exactly?"

"Kind of a long story. Right now I sleep on a couch in a shitty one bedroom apartment shared by an asshole who doesn't shut the fuck up and a blind cocaine addict."

"Oh," you reply, nodding despite your lack of understanding. "Yeah, it's just me here. Well, and Dumpling."

"Dumpling?"

As if summoned by his name, your cat appears, making a swift beeline for the newcomer. He twists around Logan's legs, butting his head against his shins. You bend down, scooping him up in your arms.

"This is Dumpling. He's cute, but he'll knock over any plants so I wouldn't recommend you take up indoor gardening if you decide to live here." Logan eyes Dumpling warily before holding a hand out. Dumpling sniffs his fingers daintily and rubs head against his palm. "I think he likes you."

Logan huffs, the sound close to a laugh, and it makes you smile. He looks up at you and for a moment you forget that you're complete strangers who have just met. He feels inexplicably familiar, his presence comforting, and you're surprised by it.

"Let's look at the bedroom," you finally say, breaking the moment. You turn, heading for the hall and he follows behind you, steps surprisingly light for such a large man. You take him to the last door at the end of the hall and enter the empty room. "This is it. It's kind of small, but all the rooms in New York are pretty much shoe boxes. It's got a closet and access to the fire escape, though.”

"Better than the couch," he says, looking around the room. "You said $950?"

"Plus half of the utilities," you add. He nods.

"Look, I'll be honest. I'm...between jobs right now." He sighs. "And my schedule can be...unpredictable."

"Oh," you mumble. You think about it for a moment. Renting the apartment to Logan would be a risk but...you can't help but notice that exhaustion in his eyes, how it's clear he's trying to get back on his feet in one way or another. "That's okay. We can work something out."

He raises an eyebrow at you. "Really? You sure about that?"

Were you?

"Yeah," you reply. "I'm sure."

Having a roommate is...an adjustment.

Logan is great. He does his dishes in a timely manner, doesn't leave any clothes on the bathroom floor, and even cleans Dumpling's litter box from time to time.

But he drives you insane and it has nothing to do with his qualities as a roommate and everything to do with how unbearably attractive he is. He could be doing the most mundane activity and suddenly you're more turned on than a faucet on full blast. On top of it all, he's surprisingly sweet for such a gruff man.

Currently, you're watching him pour himself a glass of whiskey. You know he's probably preparing to take the drink to his room so that he can have a cigar on the fire escape, but you find yourself wanting his company.

"Logan?" you ask. He looks at you over his shoulder.

"Yeah, bub?"

"Would you...want to watch a movie? With me?"

He turns to fully face you, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of his drink, dark eyes on you over the rim of the glass. You swallow nervously, prepared to retract your offer and hide out in your room for the rest of eternity, but he puts you out of your misery.

"Sure." He comes over to the couch, taking a seat that's a respectable distance away. "What are we watching?"

"Have you seen The Greatest Showman?"

A musical. He's sitting through a goddamn musical.

"You kinda look like that guy," you say from beside him. Logan tilts his head.

"I don't see it."

"It's the bone structure."

"I'm bigger than him." You mumble something under your breath that he doesn't quite catch, though he thinks it sounded suspiciously like yeah, you are. "You say somethin'?"

"Huh?" You shake your head. "No, nope. Didn't say anything."

Logan relaxes against the back of the couch, settling in. You're curled up against the armrest, a blanket covering your legs and your arms wrapped around a throw pillow. You look relaxed, at ease, a stark contrast to how you had been when he first moved in. You spent more of your time hidden in your room and he's happy to see you're getting more comfortable around him.

It's also torture. You're like a drug that he can't get enough of, a high that doesn't last long enough. He clings desperately to every smile you grace him with and falls asleep with the sound of your voice echoing in his head. He wakes up looking forward to seeing you, even if it's just in passing before you head out for your very normal job as part of your very normal life.

That's what gives him pause. You're not like him, not built for violence, and he would never drag you into that life. He thinks about Vanessa and Wade and the wedge that was driven between them they're working to repair and he can't bear the thought of having you just to lose you.

Logan's so lost in his own thoughts he doesn't realize that the movie has ended and you haven't moved. Your head is angled in a way that has to be uncomfortable, your mouth dropped open as you breathe slowly and deeply. He grabs the remote from the coffee table and turns the TV off, plunging the room into darkness as he stands and quietly approaches you.

He slides one arm beneath your knees and using the other to support your back, lifts you from the couch. You settle your head against his chest but otherwise your sleep remains undisturbed as he carries you down the hall into your room.

It's not the first time he's been in your personal space. One time he woke up to Dumpling clawing at his chest and he marched the animal back to your room for the night, barging in on you while you had been up reading. He remembers the queen sized bed in a wooden frame and a dresser with a drawer that won't shut take up most of the space, the plain white of your walls replaced by a soft blue. You've installed what he first thought were regular shelves but later learned are meant for Dumpling to use for late night acrobatics that he can sometimes hear from his room.

Logan sets you gently on your bed and pulls the quilt up to your shoulders. Before he can think better of it, he reaches a hand toward your face, tracing his thumb over the high point of your cheek. You turn towards the sensation, chasing his touch, and his chest grows tight. He sighs, stepping back and turning for the door.

Dumpling sits in the doorway, flicking his tail. Logan steps around him into the hallway, the cat's gaze following him.

"Shut up," he whispers.

Dumpling meows in return.

You're disoriented when you wake the next morning. The last thing you remember is being on the couch with Logan and watching The Greatest Showman, but somehow you've ended up in your room. You turn over in bed to find Dumpling on your other pillow, curled in a ball.

"Morning, Dumpy," you murmur, scratching his head. "How'd we end up here?"

Dumpling blinks unhelpfully at you before uncurling from his spot and hopping from the bed, leaving through your open door. It's then that you notice that you can hear grunting noises coming from the living room.

You get up to investigate and stop dead in your tracks, mouth dropping open when you find the source of the noise is a shirtless Logan doing push ups on the living room floor. The broad muscles of his back ripple with each movement, each push accompanied by a small grunt that makes your thighs clench together, imagining him making that noise when--

Logan stops, jumping to his feet and you shake your head free of the salacious image it began to create. He turns, giving you an uninhibited view of his thick chest that's covered in dark hair that trails down over defined abs before disappearing beneath the elastic of his sweatpants. You have to say something, anything, but your brain is full of static, unable to operate when he's standing there looking like that.

"Morning," he says.

"Good morning!" you reply, voice pitched higher than usual. You walk past him in a way you hope is casual, heading for the kitchen and prepping the coffee machine. "You got any plans today?"

"Got a friend who needs my help with something. Don't know when I'll be back." His voice is much closer than you expected and you turn from the counter to find him right behind you, a scant few inches of space between your bodies.

"Oh?" you whisper, keeping your gaze firmly on his face. "Is everything okay?"

"It will be."

He drifts impossibly closer, chest nearly brushing yours. Your heart pounds in your chest, a frantic rhythm that's become familiar ever since Logan entered your life. Reaching above your head, he grabs two mugs in one large hand, setting them on the counter behind you before taking a step back and turning to head for his room without another glance in your direction.

You sag against the counter, a wave of lust addled adrenaline crashing over you and leaving you breathless. The last thing you need to be doing is getting involved with your roommate, no matter how tempting he may be.

Dumpling jumps up on the counter beside the coffee pot and stares at you, likely waiting for food, but it feels more like judgment in his green eyes.

"Shut up," you whisper to him.

Dumpling meows, batting you with a paw.

You're sitting on the couch when there's an unexpected knock at your door. Logan is still gone, helping a friend and you're not expecting anyone, so you’re not sure who it could be. You check the peephole before opening the door and see the distorted image of a man in a red suit and mask supporting the weight of your roommate against his side.

"What the fuck?" you ask as you open the door in a panicked rush. The masked man waves his fingers at you.

"Hi there! I've got a very," -- he grunts, adjusting his grip on Logan -- "heavy delivery."

Logan's eyes are closed, head flopped back on the masked man's shoulder. Blood stains his t-shirt in spots that look suspiciously like knife wounds and you gasp.

"What happened to him?!" you shout. "Oh my god, he needs to go to the hospital--"

"He just needs a little power nap," the man says. "I'm Wade, by the way. You mind if I just--"

Wade drags Logan through the apartment, depositing him on your couch with a huff, wiping his hands together. He looks around and you're shocked when the eyes of the mask seem to move, as if mimicking his facial expressions.

"This is a nice place," he says. Dumpling meows and Wade gasps. "You have a cat?! I wish I could pet you, sweet kitty, but Dogpool would put me in the dog house. Ha! Get it?"

"I'm confused," you manage to say. "My roommate is bleeding out on my couch after being dropped off by some wanna-be Avenger--"

"Ouch!"

"And you're saying he doesn't need to go to the emergency room?"

"Nope." Wade lifts Logan's shirt. "See? Good as new."

Despite the blood and tears on his shirt, there's no wounds on Logan's body. He shifts, lifting an arm to smack Wade's hand away as he groans, eyes fluttering open. He glares at the man.

"Get out," he growls.

"Now, now, that's not being a very good host, Logi. What, were you raised by wolves?" Wade replies. Logan roars, a ferocious sound that's more animal than man. His hand curls into a fist and sharp metal blades extend from between his knuckles. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving, no need for the murder mittens." Wade looks at you. "You should come to Sunday dinner!"

"Wilson!" Logan shouts. Wade finally heeds the man's warnings, rushing for the door without another word, shutting it behind him. Logan sags against the couch, blades retracting into his hand. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes.

You stand there in shock, trying to make sense of everything you just witnessed. Logan should be halfway to dead by now, but he doesn't even have a scratch on him. He has claws. How does he have claws?

"Can hear you thinking," Logan says, eyes still shut. "Just say it."

"Say what?" you ask. He lifts his head.

"Tell me to get out, scream, whatever it is."

You sit down on the couch, facing him. "Why would I do that?"

"Because that's what you should be doing."

His hand rests on his thigh and you reach for it, lifting it to eye level for a closer look at his knuckles. You trace your thumb over the smooth skin, up over his strong forearm. He watches you, face almost pained.

"I'm not scared of you," you whisper. "You wouldn't hurt me."

"But I could," he bites back.

"You won't." You're certain of that. You set his hand back on his thigh and stand from the couch, intending to grab him a glass of water from the kitchen, but he stops you with a hand around your wrist. His grip is loose enough that you could break free, but you don't.

Logan looks up at you with an unreadable expression, something close to fear mixed with a conflicting emotion that you think -- or hope -- might be desire. He tugs your wrist, bringing you to stand between his legs.

"How can you be so sure?" he asks.

You place your hand on his cheek, the coarse hair of his beard scratching at your palm. His eyelids flutter and his lips part on a sharp inhale.

"You're a good man, Logan Howlett," you murmur. He closes his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath.

His next movements are quick -- a hand on the back of your thigh, dragging you onto his lap, the other wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you close, his lips capturing yours in a savage kiss. You melt into him, meeting his urgency with your own desperation, tongues tangling together and fighting for dominance.

You pull back to trail kisses across his jaw until you reach his neck, sinking your teeth into the tan skin, just over his hammering pulse. Logan groans, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, pulling you tightly against him as his hips buck into yours.

"Fuck," Logan says, voice a deep rumble that you feel to your marrow. "Do that again."

"Do what?" you tease.

"Bite me," he demands. "Make it hurt."

You obey, biting down into his shoulder with greater effort, sinking your teeth in deep until he hisses from the pain of it and you let go, lifting your head to look at the mark you've left behind. It fades quickly, disappearing without a trace.

"Jesus," he says, pulling you in for another kiss, slow and deep, as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "Let me see you."

You allow him to lift your shirt up and over your head, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His touch makes you shiver despite the heat of his hands as he traces the curve of your waist up to your chest, his thumbs finding your nipples and teasing them with slow circles. You drop your head back with a moan and he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, your collarbone, moving down until his lips wrap around one taut bud.

"Logan," you whine, digging your fingers into his hair and holding tight. He hums, the sensation making your eyes roll.

"Thought about this," he murmurs, switching to your other breast. "Every time you'd wear those goddamn tight shirts of yours."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"Wanna know what I thought about?" You tug his hair, pulling his head away from your chest. "Sucking your cock."

He raises his eyebrow at you and you take the opportunity to slide from his lap, settling on your knees between his spread thighs. You work his belt loose, followed by the fly of his jeans. He reaches past the waistband to free his cock and your mouth waters at the sight. You could tell he was big while you were on his lap, but he's even more glorious than you imagined. Thick, long, with prominent veins and a slight upward curve that you know will hit all the right places.

You take him in your hand, appreciating the weight of him in your palm as you hold him steady. With your eyes locked on his face, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue to lick from the top of your fingers to the flushed head. He groans, his hand curling into a fist that he presses to his forehead.

"Fuck," Logan hisses. You do it again, this time swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him into your mouth, moving down his length slowly. "God, look at you. Mouth stuffed so full you're drooling, huh?"

He's right. Spit gathers at the corners of your lips and runs down your chin as you use your mouth to pleasure him. The sounds he makes above you are downright filthy, deep moans and filthy praise that have you moving faster, taking him deeper, working to get as much of him in your mouth as you manage without gagging. He cups your cheek with one large palm, thumb tracing your stretched lips.

"Keep going, sweetheart. You can take a little more, can't you? That's it," he says. Tears burn your cheeks with the effort to obey, your throat tightening around the head of his cock. "Fuck, that's a good girl."

You breathe deeply through your nose, maintaining a steady pace and using your hand in tandem with your mouth for what you can't easily take. Logan's hips begin to flex beneath you, his words trailing off into guttural growls. His cock twitches in your grasp and he moans your name before his release floods your mouth and you swallow it down.

You pull off of him with a slick pop, gasping for breath. Before you can say anything, Logan is hauling you to your feet as he stands from the couch, lifting you up with one strong arm beneath your ass and urging your legs around his waist.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Just getting started."

Logan kicks the door open to your room, startling Dumpling from his perch. The cat races out the door, disappearing into the living area as the door clicks shut. He sets you down on your bed and quickly rids himself of his boots and rest of his clothing before returning his attention to you.

You're lying there in your little sleep shorts that drive him nuts. The fabric barely covers your ass and there's been more than one occasion where he's shuffled into the kitchen in the mornings to see you in them, all the blood in his body rushing south at the sight. He joins you on the bed, on his knees between your spread thighs, and extends a single claw. Your eyes widen, but you don't pull away. In fact, you start squirming, hips flexing minutely against the mattress.

"Scared yet?" he asks.

"I wouldn't say that.”

He carefully slips the blade beneath the hem of your shorts, inching it up until it peeks out above the elastic waistband before twisting his wrist and slicing through the fabric like it's nothing. Claw retracted, he removes your ruined shorts and takes a moment to appreciate the vision you make, legs spread wide and your dripping pussy on display.

"You're a mess," he says, smoothing his hands over the soft skin of your legs. He lifts one of your knees, pressing a kiss to the inside of it before resting it on his shoulder. "Gonna clean you up."

Logan dips his head to your center, dragging his tongue through your soaked sex, groaning when the taste of you blooms across his tongue. Your fingers curl against his scalp, a sharp point of pleasure-pain as he explores your body. He swirls his tongue over your clit, experimenting with broad circles and sharp flicks until you're writhing beneath him.

"Logan," you cry, hips bucking against his face. He dips his tongue into your cunt, nose brushing your clit as he does, and he hums in satisfaction as your thighs tense around his head.

He looks up at you and drinks in the picture you make, gorgeous skin glistening with sweat and your back arched from the bed, chest heaving with desperate breaths. He wants this exact moment burned into his memory, certain it could chase away the dark shadows that linger there.

Logan presses two fingers to your hole, sliding them in with little resistance. You're so warm and tight, squeezing his fingers beautifully, calling out his name as he curls them when he drags them from your body.

"I'm going to come," you gasp. "Oh, fuck, just like that!"

You pulse around his fingers and he slows his movements to work you through it until you collapse against the mattress with a deep sigh. He carefully removes his hand and sits up on his knees.

"Guess I made more of a mess," Logan says. Your eyes squeeze shut with a breathless giggle.

"I'll forgive you," you reply. You reach your arms up for him and he moves to hover over you to accept your embrace. "God, Logan," you murmur, tilting your chin up to kiss him.

In this position, he's able to drag his cock through the slick mess between your thighs and you shiver beneath him, gasping into his mouth. He does it again, more purposeful this time and it drags a moan from you both.

"Please," you murmur.

"Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want," he replies. "What you need."

"Need you to fuck me."

Logan reaches between your bodies and positions the thick head of his cock at your entrance, pushing forward. The stretch of him is unreal, almost too much even with how wet you are for him.

"Relax," he says, holding himself steady above you. "You can take it."

You nod and he pushes forward another inch, letting you adjust, and repeating the process until the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickles your sensitive skin. You've never been so full, no other experience compares to this. No other man compares to Logan, in any way.

He starts moving slowly, dragging his hips back until you're nearly empty before plunging back inside. Each thrust puts stars in your vision, makes the knot of want and need coil tighter in your lower belly, until you're moaning his name and begging him to move faster, harder, deeper.

Logan obeys, thrusting into you with enough force that your head board collides with the wall. He sits back on heels, dragging you up with him until you're sitting in his lap and he's able to thrust up into you.

"Feel so fucking good," he says, lips against your neck. "Need you to come for me, baby."

You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close, meeting each of his thrusts with a rock of your hips that drags your clit against him, your nerves buzzing with the friction and fullness. While the orgasm he wrenched from you with his mouth felt like a wildfire, this one builds and builds, a wave cresting until it finally crashes and you cry out his name.

Logan leans forward to drop you back onto the bed, reaching a hand up to grip your headboard as he continues to roll his hips into yours, chasing his own release. His thrusts begin to grow more desperate until he presses in deep and you're flooded with warmth as he growls, long and low. The sound of splintering wood breaks through your post-orgasmic haze and you tilt your head back to find that his claws have extended through your headboard, splitting the wood and embedding into the drywall.

"I can fix that," Logan says breathlessly, tugging his hand free, claws retracting. You grin at him.

"Later," you reply, pulling him in for a kiss.

You've got better things to do right now.

Thank you so much for reading! For more of my writing, check out my masterlists!

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)

ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!

College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI

a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!

edit: I'm writing a full fic for this! Rigor Mortis, college au fic, read here.

wc: 6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice. 

Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window. 

So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman. 

When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.

Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment. 

You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.

You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara? 

Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning. 

On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach. 

"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was… 

You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying . 

The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist. 

"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!" 

~~~

He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring. 

The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.

As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask. 

It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him. 

The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep. 

Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him. 

This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class.  She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.

"Where's he gone?" She asks politely. 

You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."

"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day. 

You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.

"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."

Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it. 

"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo. 

"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.

You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."

A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

~~~

You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it. 

After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course. 

Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself. 

You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall. 

It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure. 

It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself. 

Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here. 

On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video. 

" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen. 

What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all. 

Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners. 

He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you. 

All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs. 

" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-" 

He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-

" H-Harder, Miguel, please." 

He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers. 

" Fuck, Miguel…"

He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall. 

~~~

He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.

A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home. 

And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.

Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions. 

You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night. 

He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy?? 

You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.

After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water. 

With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there. 

"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway. 

You wince."...F-Fine?" 

You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?" 

You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."

Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice. 

"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further. 

Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together. 

You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand. 

" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee. 

"You look… wet." 

"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze. 

"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed. 

There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression.  His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds. 

Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?" 

He's got a hand on your arm now,  The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details. 

" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy. 

It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside. 

"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."

"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word. 

"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?" 

"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."

"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"

"...I'd like that, to be honest."

"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."

"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too." 

~~~

You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same. 

You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way. 

There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost. 

It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.

Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand. 

What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza? 

Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal. 

So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy. 

“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"

You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats. 

All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought. 

"Yeah?" 

"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-" 

"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"

There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…

"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!" 

With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway. 

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "

"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"

"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-" 

"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips. 

You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.

"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you. 

His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand. 

"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close. 

You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.

"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile. 

"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side. 

"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."

His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.

"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular. 

He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?" 

"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it. 

He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty. 

"Huh. I guess they do." 

"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"

"Katie." He hums. 

"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name. 

You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch. 

"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ." 

Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest. 

"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-" 

"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."

Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own. 

"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.

Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?

"...and I heard you say my name." 

"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing. 

"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-" 

He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"

A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."

"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."

He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together. 

He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest. 

It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts. 

"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."

You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck. 

He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum. 

Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth. 

Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin. 

"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt.. 

"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara. 

"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.

He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"

Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"

He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?" 

You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."

"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?" 

It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction. 

"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach. 

You mumble something begrudgingly.

"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."

Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel." 

Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."

Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth. 

He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.

And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue. 

And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole. 

"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue. 

You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off. 

"Right there, fuck… "

Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily. 

You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him. 

"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him. 

"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs. 

Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck. 

"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."

His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."

You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should. 

"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head. 

"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."

He turns to you, lazily. 

"I could tutor you, if you'd like."

…

"That's not fucking funny, Miguel."

_

_

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings

_

edit: the full fic xx

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: HUNGRY FOR MORE

✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!gojo x detective!reader: fucking the serial killer you're supposed to be arresting might be the best (or worst) decision you've ever made. PART 2 | NSFW

contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, public sex (in an alley), p –> v, orgasm denial, fingering, he cums inside, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, lil' bit of dumbification, hair pulling, squirting, dirty talk, manipulation/coercion, mentions of murder (he's a serial killer what did u expect), non-sexual mentions/usage of guns, probably more. 3K words.

author's note: wrote this instead of writing my research paper and studying for my math final. if this flops i will actually become the serial killer /j. anywaysss tagging @satoruhour @screampied @satorena.. and yes, the "season 2 coming soon" in the banner means something ;)

“looks like your little killing spree’s gonna have to come to an end,” you muse, crossing your arms and cocking an eyebrow at the man across from you. he grins back at you, and it’s almost unsettling—he looks a little too smug for a killer who’s just been caught.

“i don’t think so, sweetheart,” the man responds dryly, leaning back against the alley wall, features relaxed and at ease. he—satoru gojo—has been your target for a couple weeks, and now that you’ve finally cornered him, you find yourself feeling a little… unfulfilled. usually, when you caught criminals, they begged for mercy and showed a little more emotion than what satoru’s shown so far. 

also, the criminals usually weren’t this good-looking.

you maintain eye contact with satoru while you carefully reach into your coat’s pocket, withdrawing your phone and unlocking it. unexpectedly, satoru doesn’t make any move to stop you from dialing the number to your boss, instead smiling coyly as you do so.

“so, you’re one of those guys who don’t care what happens to them?” you ask, tilting your head as you hold the phone to your ear. satoru shrugs and his grin only widens the longer your phone rings. ten seconds pass before your phone tells you that the number you dialed is currently busy, and satoru’s muffled laughter becomes unbearably suspicious. you narrow your eyes and involuntarily take a step back. “what’s with the smile?”

satoru scoffs and dips his head, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step towards you. “y’know, you’re rather brave, comin’ out to catch a serial killer all by yourself. and in the middle of the night, too.” he stops advancing when he sees you pull a gun out of your pocket and hold it up threateningly, a look of warning in your eyes. “okay, okay, relax. i’m not gonna do anything to your pretty face.”

“what did you do?” you ask suspiciously. satoru widens his eyes in mock disbelief, as if he’s completely and utterly shocked that you’d ever accuse him of anything.

“besides the fifteen separate counts of murder? not much, really.”

“i’m not an idiot,” you snap, cocking the gun and aiming it at his head. “you’re not the one in control here, satoru gojo. spit it out before i put a bullet through your skull.”

satoru laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. “fiesty, aren’t we? it’s alright, i like my girls with a little fire in them.” he tilts his head to the side and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on parts of you that suddenly make you feel naked, despite the coat covering most of your figure. “put down the gun, sweetheart, then we can talk.”

you wait a second, scanning satoru’s overly relaxed face before cautiously lowering the gun. “what are you hiding?” you ask again, eyes hardening.

“a lot of things. but i think you’re talking about what i did to your boss, right?”

“you have five seconds before i shoot you.”

satoru makes a face and then rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, since you’re bein’ so pushy about it. i killed him, obviously. you’re a smart girl, shouldn’t you have figured that out by now?” when you don’t immediately answer, satoru sighs and shakes his head. “and here i thought that the girl who’d been tailing me for the past week would have a little sense in that pretty head of hers. looks like i was wrong.”

“shut it,” you snap again, re-dialing the number and letting your phone ring for fifteen seconds. when nobody picks up, you internally curse and think about what to do next. dialing 911 would be worth a try, but the look in satoru’s ice-blue eyes makes you think otherwise. despite the gun in your hand, something about him makes you entirely certain that he could overpower you, even if you landed a shot on him. and even if you just shot him right now, he’s been shown in the past to be able to function fine with a bullet through his chest. that’s how two of your subordinates lost their lives to him—by underestimating your city’s notorious killer.

so you decide to bide your time.

“ran out of options?” satoru asks smugly. he raises an eyebrow when you slide your phone back into your pocket and exhales a laugh. “you gonna wait for a big, strong man to rescue you? ‘cause i’m right here, honey, and i could be your savior.”

“that was actually the shittiest line i’ve ever heard,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at the self-satisfied look on his face. “are you seriously proud of that one?”

“well, it worked.”

he pushes himself off the alley wall and towards you so fast that you hardly even have time to process it, and before you know it, you’re the one pressed to a wall with a gun to the side of your head. satoru’s other hand grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head, and his face is close enough to the point where you can feel his breath—which is unexpectedly minty—on your cheeks as he grins down at you. “you really think i’d use a line as shitty as that if i didn’t know it’d make you lower your guard? tch, you really shoulda known better.”

you use every curse word you’ve ever heard in that moment and grit your teeth, rapidly thinking through all the possible ways you could get out of this situation, but nothing comes to mind. you’re quite literally stuck in between a rock and a hard place, with a gun pressed to your head and with your limbs out of commission. 

satoru clicks his tongue and widens his eyes at you, leaning in closer. his lips are uncomfortably close to your own as he traces the gun down the side of your face, cold metal brushing against your heated skin. “not gonna fight back? that’s no fun.”

“the fuck you want me to do?” you snap irritably, glaring up at him and curling your hands into fists. satoru tightens his grip on your wrists and cooes a sarcastic apology to you, taking his time looking you up and down again. if you didn’t value your life, you probably would’ve said worse, but seeing as you were the only person in this ridiculously isolated alley, it wouldn’t be worth much. 

“i dunno. didn’t that detective academy or whatever teach you anything?”

you roll your eyes again, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you consider the possibility of your eyes getting permanently stuck in the back of your head just because of him. “y’know, you’re not giving me a whole lot of options.”

satoru laughs. “if i did, that’d defeat the whole purpose, wouldn’t it?”

at this point, death would be preferable to hearing his idiot talk any longer.

“so, i’m gonna be the one asking the questions from now on,” satoru continues, clicking his tongue disapprovingly when you scowl. “if you behave, i won’t hurt you that badly, ‘kay? keep that in mind.”

“thought you liked your girls feisty.”

“oh, that’s true,” satoru muses thoughtfully. “yeah, never mind, you can be a little bratty. i need a reason to fuck you stupid anyways,” he grins after a moment of consideration.

“what the fuck?”

“you heard me, sweetheart,” satoru cooes, feeling his pants tighten as he watches your eyes widen. your “tough” demeanor drops for a split second, and satoru can’t help but want to fuck it off again when it returns. your scowl deepens and you frantically think through all your options again, but there isn’t a whole lot you can do at this point.

“if you wanna stay alive, you’ll be a good girl and you won’t scream,” satoru murmurs, leaning in closer and pressing his lips to yours. you grit your teeth and try to shove him away with your shoulder, but it doesn’t do much. satoru smiles against your lips and hums softly, pulling away with an almost affectionate look on his face. it’s so at odds with who he is and what he’s done that you drop your guard again, wanting to believe that he really will keep his promise not to hurt you.

satoru sees the shift in your features and smiles tenderly, all traces of his borderline-sadistic look gone. he studies your face for a moment and kisses the corner of your mouth, letting his lips linger for a second before he pulls away again. “i’m gonna let your hands go now, m’kay?” when he drops your wrists, they fall limply on his shoulders as you warily study him, eyes wide with confusion. it’s jarring, the way he just… changed personalities within the span of a couple seconds. “i’m not gonna hurt you, pretty,” he breathes, dropping the gun and letting it fall to the floor with a loud thwak. “this’ll be a lot more fun for me if you don’t resist, yeah?”

oh, fuck it.

“okay,” you murmur, ignoring every siren going off in your head. you don’t really have any other options, and honestly, nobody was going to walk by and get you out of this sticky situation anytime soon. and satoru was pretty attractive… and you could just arrest him afterwards, right?

as if he read your mind, satoru smiles and promises, “you can handcuff me after i’m done with you. just let me have a little fun one last time, baby.”

yeah, it’d be a stupid decision to believe the sweet-talker towering over you. there’s no way he’s just going to let you drag him off to jail, but there’s a reason he’s stayed out of the grasp of the law for so long. it’s hard to live a life as on-the-edge as being a serial killer, but the reason satoru’s survived for this long is because he knows how to use his words. he knows how to make a person go against every warning in their head, and he knows how to get what he wants.

which, for tonight, includes you.

“you have thirty—no, twenty minutes,” you mumble, knowing damn well that this would be the end of your career as a detective. whether or not you dragged satoru in after all this, you could never continue your work knowing you had sex with the biggest serial killer in the city.

satoru laughs and kisses you again, lips trailing down your face and settling on your neck. “haven’t i already made it clear that i’m the one in control here?” he muses as he slips his hands under your coat and tugs it off. it falls to the cold ground and bunches up around your feet, leaving you in a button-up shirt and flowy, dark pants. “c’mon, let’s get these clothes off you.”

within a minute, the rest of your clothes save for a black lacy pair of undergarments join your coat on the floor, and the chilly nighttime air nips at your skin. “i’m cold,” you mumble, feeling yourself involuntarily tense up everywhere but where satoru’s hands cloak your skin. satoru laughs in response and presses his knee to the spot in between your thighs, and something in you snaps at the point of contact. 

“you really are an idiot, aren’t ya,” satoru scoffs, hand sliding down to your waist. his fingers latch on the waistband of your panties and he tugs them down, exposing your already-wet pussy to the cold evening air and his eyes. “lettin’ a serial killer fuck you in a dark alley… what kind of detective does that?” satoru spits on two of his fingers and slips them inside you, instantly groaning when he feels you clench around him. “fuck, you gotta be the tightest pussy i’ve felt in a while,” he mutters, white hair falling into his eyes as he looks down shamelessly. “do you not have sex with other guys?”

“don’t have time,” you swallow what would’ve been an embarrassingly loud moan as his fingers go deeper and deeper. how long are this man’s fucking fingers?

“aw, look at you, you’re so cute,” satoru cooes, smiling down at your scrunched up face. you look back at him through squinted eyes, hips starting to roll against his fingers. it’s true—you really haven’t had time to have sex given your already-insane schedule. it’s almost like you spent more time tracking the man who’s now knuckle-deep inside you than sleeping, but the slutty part of your head tells you that it paid off.

“‘m gonna cum,” you whine pitifully, squirming around satoru’s fingers as he curls them inwards, making you clench around him even tighter. a shiver runs over your body, starting from in between your thighs and spreading all over you as satoru’s fingers move back and forth inside your soaking wet cunt. “g-gojo—”

“call me satoru, baby, and you’re not cumming until i say you can.” with that, satoru withdraws his fingers from your pussy with a pop! and grins at the way you glare at him sullenly. he mockingly pouts and licks his drenched fingers clean, tongue lapping up your essence. “heh, don’t worry, i’ll make you cum more than you knew you could once you’re stuffed with my cock.”

although you’ve determined satoru’s “promises” to be dubious at best, he fufills this one after he’s spread your legs wide open and positioned his cock at your entrance. “this might hurt, baby, but remember, no screaming.” after you nod in acknowledgement, satoru slips his tip in and watches, amused, as you try to close your legs on reflex. “uh uh, keep ‘em nice and wide f’me,” satoru tuts disapprovingly.

and true to his word, it hurts—a dull ache spreads throughout your legs as his dick goes farther and farther inside you, reaching places you hadn’t felt in a long time. satoru’s hands settle somewhere on your waist as he pushes himself deeper, ignoring your gasps and pleas for him to slow down a little. your shaky hands move to his hair and you unwittingly pull on it, somehow eliciting a soft groan from satoru’s lips, and somewhere in the back of your mind you think that of course a serial killer has a hair pulling kink—it just makes sense. 

“s-satoru, it won’t fit,” you whisper, feeling satoru hit an especially tight spot in your cunt. even with how wet you are, it just feels like you can’t possibly take any more of him—he might as well be ten feet inside you, given the pain in your hips. but, as expected, satoru only smiles tauntingly down at you and murmurs words of encouragement as he somehow pushes past the barrier and gets all the way in amid your pained whimpers.

“yeah, that’s it, knew you could do it,” satoru says sweetly, voice coated with poisonous honey. now that he’s all the way in, the ache from your waist down starts to fade into pleasure, especially as satoru starts moving himself in and out to get you used to the feeling of his dick. “just like that, pretty girl. jus’ like that.”

soon enough, he sets an unexpectedly harsh pace that makes your back arch off the cold, brick wall behind you, and even as satoru tries to keep up his “cool serial killer” act, you can hear his quivering breaths as he gets close to cumming. “shit, i forgot how fuckin’ good it felt to fuck a cunt this tight—” he mutters through gritted teeth. “‘m gonna cum inside, ‘kay?”

you nod breathlessly, chasing your own pleasure and not actually listening to the words satoru murmurs in your ear. at this point, it didn’t matter—all your pathetic little head could think about was satoru’s dick, and somehow, you forget that he’s a killer when he cums inside you. it’s hot and thick and it almost knocks you over—when was the last time you felt this good, if ever?

the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum with him, nodding along to satoru’s praises on how well you’re taking him. you squirt all over his painfully hard dick and suck in a sharp breath as you do so, body trembling from the force of both of your orgasms.

“see, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” satoru murmurs when you both come down from your highs, stroking your hair almost tenderly. you bob your head in response, face warm and eyes unable to properly focus. he stuffs his fingers back inside your puffy cunt and scoops the cum dripping down your thighs back inside, mumbling something about not letting a single drop go to waste. “who knew the pretty detective i’d had my eye on would be this good to me?” he cooes, grinning snarkily.

satoru’s earlier promise floats through your head and you force yourself to look him in the eye. “y-you said you’d let me arrest you after,” you breathe, back still pressed to the wall as satoru surveys you amusedly.

“oh, sweetheart, you’re in no condition to be giving orders,” satoru says condescendingly, pulling up his pants and grinning at you. his cheeks are still flushed red, but whether that’s from the cold nighttime air or from the heated sex, you don’t quite know. “we should do this again sometime,” he continues conversationally as he picks up your coat for you. despite the fact that you’re still naked and trembling, satoru drapes your coat around your shoulders and helps you button it up.

“but you said—” you protest, but satoru cuts you off with a raised eyebrow.

“you didn’t seriously believe me, did you?” satoru tuts, shaking his head. “i’m a serial killer. i’m not gonna turn myself in just ‘cause of a detective’s pretty pussy, baby. you should’ve known better, doll.” satoru wraps an arm around your limp shoulders and tugs you in for a kiss, lips pressing firmly against your own for a couple seconds before he pulls away with a satisfied smile.

he leaves you with a promise to see you soon.

[jaeyunnz]

"Work Break Seduction."

ni-ki + f¡reader — ♡ 18+

WARNINGS — dom!ni-ki, sub¡reader, dirty talk, making out, cussing, rough sex, riki eats out reader, unprotected sex (stay safe dont do it.) pet names.

both characters are of age. (20+) not proofread, sorry if theres any errors. this is quite long but worth the read i promise!

Reader recently went into a new college and grew a school crush on Riki. Though he plays hard to get, your able to break his nonchalant demeanour.

Note : Riki was mostly requested, so enjoy. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Your parents recently moved to a different town, which meant transferring to a new college. It wasn’t as bad as you expected, though you didn’t really know anyone there—but that was fine. At least your childhood friend, Jess, was with you.

A few weeks passed, and you found yourself constantly drawn to a boy—Riki. Girls flocked to him, yet he always brushed them off or rejected their advances. No one seemed to know much about him. He was distant, only ever seen around small groups. But that only made him more intriguing. The mystery surrounding him pulled you in, making you want to learn more about him.

The problem? He avoided everyone—including you. The only times you ever spoke were during school projects, and even then, the conversations were brief or short talk.

This morning, once again, you found yourself paired with Riki. It didn’t bother you as much, but you could tell he wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “Alright, your partners have been chosen. Get to work, project’s due in two days,” the teacher announced. You scanned the room for Riki, and then your eyes landed on him. He was leaning back in his chair, his posture casual and almost lazy. You knew you had to make the first move and approach him, or he’d likely ignore you the entire time.

You hated that you always had to be the one to approach him—it made you feel almost desperate. Yet, here you were, getting up and walking toward him. He watched as you pulled out your chair and sat down beside him. “Hi,” you said, glancing at him for a brief moment. He responded with a small nod, his usual way of acknowledging you.

You settle into the seat, trying to ignore the awkwardness that always seemed to hang between you two. The silence stretched for a moment, neither of you making any effort to start the project. You glance at him, but he’s already looking at his phone, clearly disinterested. Then, you let out a soft sigh, wishing he’d at least pretend to care. Finally deciding to break the silence. “So, uh… how do you want to split this up?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

He shrugs without looking up. “You can do whatever,” he mutters. You bite back a small frustration. Damn, you knew he wasn’t one for much conversation, but it always felt like pulling teeth to get him to participate. Yet, there was something about his indifference that kept you intrigued, even if it was maddening. “I guess I’ll start with the research,” you say, hoping for a bit more input. He doesn’t respond, but you take that as your cue to begin.

The next hour passes in relative silence, except for the occasional rustling of papers and the tapping of his phone. You focus on your work, trying not to pay attention to how he barely acknowledges your presence. Though you’re starting to get irritated by how you’re doing all the work while he’s just sitting there—eyes glued to his phone, doing nothing at all, you can’t bring yourself to get truly mad. Not when he looks this… handsome.

Should you try to start another conversation, hoping he might actually respond? You really wanted to get to know him better, maybe even get him to show a little interest in you, too. Fuck it, might as well, you really like him. "Prom is coming soon, you going out with anyone?" Thats the first thing that came to mind, it was a bit personal, but your curious. Maybe you can shoot your shot?

He finally lifts his head up from his phone, placing it on the desk and locks eyecontact with you. "Nah. Not interested in that typa stuff." For the first time, he actually seemed engaged, and it left you a little thrown off balance. "Why not?" You say, he gives you a shrug. "Why are you asking anyway?" He raises an eyebrow, your slightly taken by surprise when he asks, trying to make yourself sound less interested. "I'm just trying to conversate with you, I mean your quiet as fuck."

He lets out a deep, small chuckle that sounds rich, causing you to snap your eyes at him. Shit, he's really talking to you? "Yeah, well you could've asked me anything," he taps the desk with his fingertips, "But that was apparently the first thing that came to mind?" He rests his arm over the head of the chair, scanning your body for a moment which causes a small faint redness appear on your cheeks. "A bit bold of you, I'll give you credit for that."

You slightly roll your eyes, "How was that bold? I simply asked if you had a prom date or not." He finally sits up straight in his seat, running his hand through his short black hair which catches your attention. "Really?" He chuckles a bit, looking around the classroom.

You raise your eyebrow in slight confusion before he meets your gaze again, "C'mon now. You don't think i've noticed you staring at me?" Your eyes widen, he leans in closer and suddenly your heart starts to pound unbelievably fast. "Every single time we have a class together, I see you." his cold fingertips trails up your thigh, "Your into me? Aren't you? I mean thats why you asked me such a question." Your body freezes, shivers running down your spine.

How the fuck did he know?

"Thats not..." unable to finish your sentence with his hand making contact with your thigh. "Not true?" He says, his hands creeping down to pull your chair closer to him, the both of your knees brushing against eachother. His eyes dart down to your lips, a teasing smirk appearing on his face. Before you can say anything, the bell rings, interrupting the intense moment.

"We can uhm... finish this project later?" He leans back against his chair, acting totally careless about what just happened between you two. "Meet me at lunch." Is all he says before leaving the room. You know your face is beet red, but you dont even wanna see how you look right now. So then you start putting away the paper work into your bag, packing your stuff as he leaves the room, not looking back at you once. For a moment you just stand in the now empty class with a blank mind, trying to process everything that happened.

At lunch, you find yourself sitting at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria, just as he asked. Your heart races a little, unsure of what to expect. You glance around, half-expecting him to bail, but then you spot him walking toward you, looking as casual as ever.

"Hey," Riki says, sliding into the seat across from you. His eyes briefly meet yours before he looks down at the table. "Hi," you reply, trying to sound casual even though your nerves are on edge. There’s a moment of silence between you two, the kind that always seemed to stretch on forever. You want to fill it with something, but words feel like they’re just out of reach.

Finally, he speaks again. "So, what’s your deal?" You blink, caught off guard. “What do you mean?” He shrugs, eyes flicking up to meet yours for a split second before looking away again. "Like, why are you always tryna talk to me. You barely know me." His bluntness takes you by surprise, but somehow it doesn’t feel as cold as you thought it would. It’s almost… honest.

You take a deep breath. "I don’t know. You’re just different, you know? It’s hard to ignore." He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "I'll take that as a compliment I guess."

"I mean yeah, like you’re this whole mystery. I just want to figure you out." For a second, he looks like he’s about to say something, but instead, he leans back in his seat, his gaze lingering on you a little longer. You feel like he’s reading you, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s trying to figure you out too. Then, without warning, he leans forward, closing the space between you. His hand brushes against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"Well," he says, voice low, "maybe you’ll find out soon." Before you can process what’s happening, his lips are on yours. It’s sudden, soft at first, but the intensity quickly builds, and everything else fades away. The warmth of his mouth against yours leaves you breathless, and for a moment, everything feels completely different, like this is where you’re supposed to be.

When he pulls away, you’re left dazed, trying to catch your breath. He looks at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s a hint of something—something you can’t quite place. "You okay?" he asks, his voice a little rough. You nod, still in shock, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. I think I’m more than okay." You bite your lower lip slightly, blushing profusely.

You both sit there for a moment, the air thick with tension and a thousand unspoken words. Your heart is still racing, but now, it's not from nerves. It's from the overwhelming feeling that something has shifted between you two. He doesn't move away, instead, his eyes search yours, almost like he's waiting for something.

Your mind is swirling, but your body seems to take over, leaning in closer, lips barely brushing against his. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his presence pulling you in with a force you can't resist. Without thinking, you kiss him again— this time deeper, more urgent. His hand finds its way to your cheek, his thumb gently grazing the skin as he pulls you in, his other hand sliding to your waist. Your heart hammers in your chest as he kisses you back with a hunger you didn't expect.

It's nothing like the first kiss-this one is raw, a mix of desire and need. You feel his fingers trace the line of your jaw, his touch almost desperate, and it sends a rush of heat through you. Your hands instinctively find his shirt, tugging him closer, as if you can't get enough of him.

His lips move with yours, more demanding now, and you match his intensity, breathless and wanting more. You can't explain it, but everything about him feels right-how he holds you, how his lips mold against yours, like this was always meant to happen. His hand slides down your back, pulling you even closer, and you can feel the heat building between you two. The kiss deepens, and everything else disappears-there's only him, only this moment.

When Riki pulls away, both of you are panting, eyes locked, faces inches apart. "You sure about this?" he asks, his voice husky. You nod, trusting your voice.

You're sure. You want this. You want him.

Without saying another word, he tilts his head toward a washroom near by the cafeteria. Afterall you both can't do anything with people around, so that was the only option. You get up, your heart beating even faster as he follows behind you. He pushes you into one of the stalls, locking it behind you.

He slowly turns around, pushing your back against the wall and his lips are on yours again, and this time, it feels like the beginning of something that neither of you can pull away from. The kiss continues, deepening with each passing second. His hands move, exploring, pulling you closer as if he can't get enough of you either. The way he holds you makes everything else fade into the background-the noise of the cafeteria, the people walking by the washroom, it all feels distant and irrelevant.

You feel his breath against your lips, a slight tremor in his touch as his fingers trace the curve of your back. Your own hands slide into his hair, fingers threading through the strands as you pull him in even closer, wanting more of him. You can taste the faint trace of mint on his breath, and it only makes you crave him more.

Riki slowly pulls away from the kiss, the both of you breathless. Finally his hand slides down your thigh, inching under your skirt. "Can I?" He grunts out as you nod at him almost instantly. "Starting to think you've wanted this for a while now," he chuckles, slipping his hands underneath your skirt and groping your ass, a small moan escaping your lips. "S-shut up will you?" He smirks, his lips trail down, leaving wet kisses down your neck. 

You press your lips tightly together, glaring at him playfully. You can't help but feel a surge of need. It's like you're both fighting the same battle, giving in to something that's been building up for weeks. Suddenly you find your hand guiding his further up your skirt.

Riki doesn't hesitate, immediately shoving your hand aside and tearing your panties apart with his hands. He gets down on his knees and buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking at your dripping folds without warning like a starved man. Your eyes roll back to the back of your head, looking down at him in slight surprise. "Fuck, you're so wet." He growls against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs.

He groans as he feels your fingers gripping his hair tighter, your delicious moans spurring him on. He alternates between long, teasing licks and quick flicks against your clit, savoring your sweet taste. His hands squeeze your ass, pulling you harder against his face. "F...fuck ah mmph.." Your back arches against the wall, clawing at it slightly as you try to keep quiet, not wanting anyone to hear.

He hooks his arms around your legs and throws them over his shoulders, opening you up even wider. He laps his tongue greedily around your clit, determined to make you come on his face before he allows himself to enter you. "Mmh." He groans against your pussy, your body shaking slightly from the vibration. "A-ah Riki..." The stall gets filled up with slurping sounds along with your quiet desperate moans.

He slightly pulls back, looking up at you with half closed eyes. Your breathing heavily, sweat dripping down your forehead. "Riki or daddy?" He licks his lower lip slightly, smirking a bit as he sees your widened eyes. "I..I am not calling you that weirdo." He tilts his head back, "Hey hey, it was just a suggestion."

"I'll think... about it." You whisper embarrassed, turning a light shade of red when he lets out a quiet chuckle. "Thats my good girl." Your legs slightly tremble at the name, butterflies forming in your stomach before he spreads your legs wider, feasting on your pussy like it's his last meal. He growls against your cunt when you reach down to grip his hair. Your about to reach your climax and he knows it.

"I-I'm gonna-" you whine out, the sound echoes around the empty washroom. Riki snaps his mouth against your clit, sucking hard. "Come on my face, baby." His tongue laps up your juices, going fast and hard against your sensitive nub. "Give it to me." His words are more than enough for you to reach your high, finding yourself cumming all over his face, your thighs shaking violently while you try your hardest not to scream from the pleasure.

He feels your body convulse with your climax. He spreads your legs wider, pushing them back almost painfully, allowing him deeper access. His tongue goes wild, licking and sucking every last bit of your juice. He growls softly against your pussy before pulling back, licking your release off his lips. You suck in a moan, looking down at him.

Riki's cock is aching against his jeans, begging to be free. "P-please." He hears your soft beg. He unbuckles his belt slowly, eyes darkening. "Do you want my dick?" His voice is deep, seeing you slowly nod your head. He pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion, freeing his throbbing cock. He strokes himself slowly, letting you admire his impressive size. A droplet of precum pearls at the tip as he grunts. You stare intently, gulping at his length, "You're..."

He steps forward, turning you around and lifting your ass up, rubbing the head against your sensitive entrance. "Yeah? Think you can take it?" His voice is thick with desire as he pushes the tip just slightly inside you, a loud gasp escaping your mouth. "So far for being quiet." Riki says teasingly as you glare up at him playfully, swallowing hard. "I-I'm trying my hardest," He chuckles while pushing in slightly more, filling you with just the tip. "Am I too big?" He grunts, your hands going up to grip his shoulders tightly.

"I-I can take it.." you whimper out. "You sure?" He feeds you another inch, making you wince slightly. He watches your face closely. "Tsk, you're only halfway there." He pulls back slightly then pushes in another inch, hitting a new spot inside you which causes your mouth to open wide. "You really can take my whole dick? Don't wanna hurt you." His voice drops lower.

You just nod, desperation taking over you. "Good girl." He praises darkly, then grips your hips tightly and slams his hips forward, impaling you completely on his massive length. For a second, your vision gets blurry, the pleasure overwhelming. "Fuck!" He roars as he bottoms out inside you, gripping on your hips tightly. You let out a loud straining moan before hearing someone walk into the washroom.

The both of you freeze, and Riki doesn't move inside you just yet. Your slightly panicking but he doesn't seem to care because he begins to grind his hips slowly, letting you feel every inch of him. Your mouth opens wide, but he quickly covers it with his hand, leaning down and whispers against your ear, "That pussy just swallowed every inch of my cock like such a good girl." His hands grip your thighs roughly, pulling you open wider. You swallow hard, whimpering against his palm. "Shh, don't wanna get caught do you?"

Finally that person seems to leave — and Riki's hand leaves your mouth. His thick shaft drags in and out of your tight, soaked pussy at a brutal pace. Each thrust makes you wince and whimper, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He pounds into you relentlessly, the sound of his skin slapping against your ass filling the room. "F-fuck ah.. Riki-" You roll your eyes back, your mind becoming blank.

He can feel your gentle scratches against his back as he pounds into you, his hands tightening on your thighs. "Fuck, baby. This what you wanted? My dick destroying your insides?" You nod, opening your mouth to speak but words come out as moans instead. He pulls your hips further up to get deeper inside you. He leans forward, his mouth finding yours in a harsh, bruising kiss as he continues to rut into you.

He groans loudly into the kiss as he feels your pussy clench tightly around his throbbing shaft before breaking the kiss, panting heavily. "Shit, you're squeezing me so fucking tight." He adjusts his angle, deliberately targeting your G-spot with every powerful thrust.

Your trying to grip on the walls, but your fingers slip. "G-gonna cum..." His eyes darken with lust at your words, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. "Cum for me, baby. Milk my dick with that tight cunt." He reaches down and circles his thumb over your clit, applying pressure in time with his thrusts.

And with that, He feels your release bathe his length, making him groan loudly. Your pussy pulses around him tightly, almost painfully. He pumps into you erratically, losing his rhythm. He lowers his head and watches as your fluids coat his shaft, making it glide easily in and out of your body.

He pants heavily, finally unleashing his pent up load deep inside of your wet cunt. Your back arches against him as he does so, the both of you letting out loud moans from the feeling. Then he pulls out slowly, his cock glistening with your juices. "Fuck." He holds your waist and you tremble, putting your whole body weight on him since your struggling to stand.

The bathroom stall feels too small now, the air thick with the weight of what just happened. You’re both still breathing heavily, and there’s a quiet, almost uncomfortable stillness between you.

He leans back against the wall, rubbing a hand over his face as if trying to process everything. You do the same, your mind racing a little. It’s strange how quickly things shifted, how in the span of just a few minutes, everything between you changed. You glance over at him. He’s still looking at you, his eyes soft, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You’re both just sitting there in the aftermath, unsure of what to say next.

"So… that happened," you murmur, trying to break the silence. He lets out a small laugh, but it’s low, more to himself than anything. “Yeah. Guess it did.” His voice sounds different now, less guarded, but there’s still that underlying tension. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or nervous. A mix of both. "I didn’t expect it to happen like this, especially here." He looks around the cramped stall, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Neither did I. But… it’s not the worst place, I guess."

You roll your eyes, half-smiling. “So… what now?” you ask, the question hanging in the air between you. He pauses, clearly thinking it over. Finally, he looks at you, his gaze steady. "I don’t know. But I don’t want it to be a one-time thing." You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you. "Neither do I."

💘: thank you so much for all your support on my storiesss!! i didnt expect anyone to like them, so thank youu!!!🥹💕💕 ill get to the rest of the requests soon, im currently busy w school so itll take some time, thanks for your patience🫶

[biteyoubiteme]

black cherry flavored

ot5 txt x fem!reader

synopsis: how many ghostfaces are there again?

warnings: 🔞!!! gangbang, mentions of drinking, getting scared, fearplay? reader gets chased through house and doesnt know who it is, knifeplay (only used to cut off underwear), clit play, mean dom moments, filming during sex, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f!), creampie(s), marking, subspace, fingering, oral (m! rec), hair pulling!, overstim (f!rec), she/her used prob forgot some

wc: 9.2k (this one got away from me)

an: this is not proofread at all im so so so sorry forgive me sweet angel ily but I cannot believe october is over and this event has come to an end ;-; I hope you guys like this one! im a HUGE horror movie fan so I was excited to do this and hopefully it turned out well. I went with a different approach for a scream fic that was kinda based on different aspects from the movies and I hope you like it! feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the rest of the fics! [dumdum m.list]

"whats your favorite scary movie?"

You roll your eyes, hand coming up to cover the screen of your laptop. “Aren't you supposed to be doing your own work not pestering me about mine?” 

It was late in the night, the library dead silent besides the hum of the heater and faint typing on stiff keyboards. The door to the study space was cracked just enough to hear the elevator if it dinged, the indicator the floor would soon be closing for the cleaning staff. The clock on the wall told you it was close to one in the morning, only an hour away from the library being cleared and closed.  

“I'm avoiding the rest of my essay,” beomgyu shrugs, clicking his pen as a signal for an end to the line of questioning. “Annoying you just seemed like a better plan,” 

“Annoying all of us, I needed this done an hour ago,” yeonjun doesn't even look up from his laptop, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, lenses glossed over with the light from his screen, fingers speeding over the keys only to pause and jam the delete button. “Fuck, i lost my train of thought,” 

“It's already late, just turn it in tomorrow morning,” huening suggests, slouched back in his chair, thumbs nibbly swiveling on the joystick of his switch. “The syllabus said it was ten points off no matter how late after twelve you submit it,” 

“Don't talk to me right now, you got yours in on time. And I'm getting this done tonight whether I like it or not. I won't be able to handle looking at it tomorrow morning. the paper just won't get turned in at all if that happens,” yeonjuns back to typing furiously squinting at his laptop not noticing kais grin. 

“You should have listened to me about meeting up at nine, but nooo-” 

“Huening,” yeonjun warns. 

“I'm just saying…” 

Yeonjun picks up one of Soobin's scattered pens from the table, tossing it at Kai hitting him in the lap. And when Kai just laughs, Yeonjun picks up a few more to throw, the showering of pens making Kai yelp. 

“Shhh,” soobin doesn't even lift his head to see what's going on. He and tae had been trying to sleep for the better part of two hours, Taehyun having found success, sliding two chairs together to prop his legs up. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and hasn't said anything since closing them. Soobin only crossed his arms and laid his head down, leg bouncing showing he was still struggling to actually find it in him to sleep without his bed. 

The six of you usually booked the room on Friday nights from nine to two, blocking the time to try and catch up on work before the weekend. It was either the time you got the most work done or none at all. You're surprised it took beomgyu this long to finally turn away from his assignment at this point he's usually at the whiteboard doodling or trying to get everyone to play dirty hangman. 

It was easier to get all of you together here instead of one of your small dorms, the space hardly big enough for three people let alone six. In the library you didn't have to worry about cramming together, the fourth floors study spaces equipped with long tables and eight chairs. Out of the two libraries on campus this one didn't have many people visit often, especially not when the walk from any of the dorms was twice as long. The fourth floor was empty and quiet except for the group's laughter on nights you didn't worry about work. 

“You didn't answer that question,” beomgyu points out again, pointer finger pushing away your hand blocking the screen, “what's your favorite scary movie?” 

“I didn't answer it because I can't choose,” you confess, scrolling through the paper you're writing for class. 

“Is your homework twenty questions?” soobins voice is muffled, annoyed and sleep-ridden. 

“No-” 

beomgyu cuts you off before you could explain, brows scrunching as he reads. “Looks like it, this one is ‘what are the rules around sex’ there is no way this actually for your class,” 

“What?” this pulls soobins head up, the messy strands of his dark hair sticking up around his forehead. 

“Of course you wake up when you hear the word sex,” yeonjun quips, pursing his lips reading over his work on his screen. 

“No need to wake up you type so loud i couldn't fall asleep,” soobin says brushing his long fingers through his hair, you always noticed the later it got the grumpier he became, pouting lips and half lidded eyes always making an appearance after midnight. 

“It's for my film studies class. We’re learning about the rules of horror,” its clarification enough for soobin who nods but beomgyu lets his head tilt to the side, the vision of a question mark. 

“Rules? You can't just send a killer in, have them spill some blood, and call it a day?” 

“You could, but i'm sure it would follow a pattern, even without you realizing it,” scrolling through your work you pause on the first option. “First you have to think about the time period when the movie was filmed. Most of the popular ones ranged from the 80’s to the early 2000’s. A huge push in most cultures is the topics of sex, drugs, and money. It's the three things people try to control the most. Throw a bunch of badly behaving teens in with a psycho killer playing god and you can tell the masses how wrong something is. Like having sex,” 

“So wrong it would get you killed?” 

“Yup, in most, if not all, horror movies the people who have sex on screen or are known for sleeping around get killed off, leaving the poor virgin alive. Main characters who live to the end also don't drink, or do drugs. Rich people aren't safe, especially if you have a big empty house with lots of stairs, doors, and windows. The more for you to make the wrong decision not to exit from,” 

“Then who does live?” Kai asks, game paused in hand. 

“The girl next door lead, never her boyfriend, the camera man, unless you see him leave the group because you should never leave the group under any circumstances. But everyone else is fair game. Oh and if you say ‘i'll be right back,’ the lines a killer in and of itself,” 

“So I'd die because I like to have a good time?” yeonjun asks, fingers paused on his keys as he looks over at you. Everyone but tae is turned in your direction, listening intently. 

“Unless you're the killer, or lucky because you weren't in line of the camera when you decided it was smart enough to leave the house. It's very kill or be killed. Another rule is to never trust anyone,” 

“The list just gets longer and longer,” soobin sits back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head as he stretches, “you know i saw this one post on twitter that some people like the whole masked killer thing, gets them off,” 

“Of course you would be on twitter looking at stuff like that,” gyu fakes disappointment, shaking his head, “this is exactly why you wouldn't survive, you're a closeted perv,” 

“I don't know about closeted perv, he was openly scrolling past hentai the other day in the dorm,” yeonjun is back to typing, soobin kicking the foot of his chair. 

“Past it, i didn't pause on it,” 

“It was on your for you page! Clearly you have a habit of liking things akin to it,” 

“I don't know, I think it's kinda hot, the mask thing. or i guess more so the build up of fear, it's almost like foreplay, your pulse starts going, you get all flushed. And I did see this clip of these two guys dressed up…” this wouldn't be the first time any of you confessed to watching something that turned you on. All of you had been friends for years, growing up nothing had ever been an off limits topic. You can see the video in your head, the way they held the girl between them; how they manhandled her down onto the bed. 

“So you and soobin are both freaks,” beomgyu grins, the need to tease showing right in his eyes. 

“A threesome is not freaky,” Taehyun states, breaking his silence, hat still over his eyes, fully relaxed and laid back. If you hadn't known the sound of his voice you would have assumed he was still asleep, if he had even been asleep in the first place. 

“Agreed, anything over three is a little freaky,” soobin shrugs, bending over halfway out of his chair to pick up his fallen pens. 

“So would you? Sleep with more than two people at once?” gyu asks, the tilt back to his head, “this is the true test if you're freaky or not,” he chuckles. 

“I mean yeah… would you?” The question is directed at the room and you watch the question lay over them like fog, each of them thinking for a second, blank expressions all the way around.

Taehyun was the first to respond, shrugging his shoulders before nodding briefly, “I wouldn't let the opportunity slip by if it was offered,” It was a unanimous yes from all of them, the hummed agreement not too surprising. 

“Done!” yeonjun smashes one last key before stretching big, “finally fucking submitted, and right before we have to leave, im surprised the staff hasnt gotten around to our room yet to kick us out,”

Taehyun pulls his hat from his face, sitting up with a yawn, “good, i needed my bed two hours ago,” 

It always felt so good to sleep in on a saturday after a study session like this, you could already feel how cozy it would be to wrap up in your blanket. And even if the mattress was shit with or without the foam topper, it was better than laying out in the chairs like taehyun just was.  

All of you cleaned up the space, making sure to tuck in the chairs, pick up the discarded cups of late night bad decision coffee. Squishing in the elevator together, bags bumping into one another before you filed out; passing all the empty desks and empty aisles of books to make it out the front door. 

As soon as the outside air hits your cheeks you know it’s going to feel like a long walk back to the dorms. the boys tucking their ears into hoodies, zipping their jackets up, you and kai lived in the dorms on the opposite side of campus from the rest of them, their walk shorter by only a few minutes. 

“Okay we’re still on for dinner tomorrow right?” Kai asks the group. 

beomgyu’s jumping on the balls of his feet to try to generate some warmth. “literally just text us, I cannot think about tomorrow when i’m this cold and sleepy,”

“Yes, we’re still on, I've been craving anything other than dining hall food for the past week,” yeonjun adds, shivering as he pulls the straps of his bag closer to his chest. “We'll still meet up back here like usual,” he was walking backwards as he said it, already a few steps behind the others, “but see you guys tomorrow or should I say ‘i’ll be right back!’” he jokingly yells while the others wave goodbye. 

“don’t play jjunie, you might be next! don’t trust anyone!” He gives you a silent salute in response as you and Kai head out for your walk. 

Instinctively the two of you are shoulder to shoulder, bumping into one another every other step. Silence following each muffled step on the pavement. Sometimes the two of you didn't say anything until you split on the elevators. a quick ‘goodnight’ or ‘see you tomorrow’ thrown out as you step out on your floor, waving as the doors closed back up so he could go up one more level. Other nights it was the two of you giggling trying to keep it down as you walked under the moonlight, too late to be loud. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as the wind hits the treeline. spots of orange light from the spaced out street lights are rare, casting the two of you in darkness every time the moon is behind the clouds; every several feet the hash light is back in your path. 

“So you'd live? In a horror movie?” Kai asks, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders to his ears from the cold. The wind is hitting him right in the face, tossing his hair from his eyes where he liked to keep it. He asks it so softly, the question highlighted in the divot of his brow, nose pink, face washed in the glow from the moon. 

“I'm not really a virgin so…,” it's not an embarrassing confession but when it's this late with his eyes trained solely on you it's like a spilled glass of red wine on white sheets. Impossible to look away from. 

“You wouldn't live for knowing how people survive?” 

“The smart ones usually die from bad luck, they know to head for the car waiting in the lot but forget the keys or if the keys are still in the ignition they never check the back seat. They know if you run into the woods to escape you can hide, but how unlucky for a rusty forgotten bare trap to be waiting for your next step. or if you miss that one here's a log to trip over, only to tumble down a hill and break your neck. Call the police? You're in the one movie a phone works only for you to forget never trust anyone because the police work for the killer,” 

“So none of us make it?” It's such an open question the way he asks it, the hopeful twinge hitting the ending, twisting it into something it shouldn't be. Written right over his features the soft words unsaid, can't we? There has to be a way.

“This isn't a movie kai, we’re fine,” 

“I know, it's only a question,” he's so easily flustered when alone, second guessing everything he says, as if one slip up will make you hate him. Now he's blushing, both of you falling back into comfortable silence. You can tell he's thinking by the way he's biting at his cheek, eyes watching his feet, making sure not to miss one step. You assume it's the end of what he has to say, his silence following you all the way back to your floor. The elevator doors opened finally giving him the courage to speak up. “Do you…” 

“Hum?” you lift your arm to hold the doors open, turned to see him struggling to get the words out. 

“Do you want to come with me to my parents cabin,” he says it all in a rush, avoiding looking you in the eyes just in case you reject him. “I mean you don't have to, the guys won't be there and if it makes you uncomfortable-” he cuts himself off, hand at the back of his neck, trying to rub away his embarrassment, “forget it- forget i said anything,” 

“It's okay, I'd love to go. where is it?” 

“Um it's like two hours from campus, my parents need me to check on it just cause and i thought, why not make a weekend of it? I mean, you can finally sleep on a real mattress, not whatever was issued here,” 

A weekend away did sound good, perfect after the semester you were having. And Kai is as sweet as they come, spending time with him wouldn't be bad at all. “Sure, when are you thinking?” 

“Next week?” 

It was all so very innocent, a sweet boy asking a girl to join him on a weekend getaway. He even packed you snacks for the drive, let you pick all the music, and made sure to carry your bag in when you arrived. 

You weren't stupid enough not to realize why you were here and the other boys didn't get an invite. The whole week you thought it over, pushing around the idea of being with him. And you could tell he was tossing it around all throughout the drive, periodically blushing without saying a thing to you, hands tightening on the steering wheel; knuckles turning white from the pressure. 

Halfway through the drive you realized exactly what he meant by cabin. Not the kind sitting near the edge of a trail, but one hidden deep into the woods for perfect seclusion. Kai had a late class to make up for and the two of you didn't get started on the drive until the sun was already setting behind the trees. Every shadow thrown across the road drew longer and longer as the car kept on. 

The gravel driveway leading up to the cabin was a stretch, but when you finally broke past the winding path the gleaming two story was not very cabin like. The windows reflecting the cars headlights back at you expanded most of the first level. Wraparound porch dotted with chairs, and a swinging bench. As soon as kai killed the engine the silence stumbled in, darkness spilling over the scene as you climbed out of your seat. 

“This place is huge,” you whisper, as if anything louder would disrupt the peace of the outdoors. You held your phone's flash up in front of you, huening fumbling to put the key into the lock on the first try. Each attempt from his shaking hand failed.

“Here,” you took the key into your own hand, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. 

“Sorry,” his voice wavering as he flips on the light switch, “i'm just- you know-,” he cuts himself off not wanting any more embarrassment to follow him. 

As soon as the lights come on you can't see anything outside, the windows a reflection of the room. A tv hanging over a huge stone fireplace, welcoming couches spaced out in a semi circle around a wooden coffee table, a bar topped with dusty glasses pushed in the corner. Kai kicks off his shoes by the door, walking further in you notice the dark hallway leading deeper into the first floor, a staircase waiting right by the entrance. But kai ignores it all while walking towards the kitchen. 

“I mostly have to check the doors and windows to make sure no one broke in,” he's trying to fill the silence, rambling to kill his nerves,”one year we had someone steal the tv, we don't really leave much now just incase, so that's why it looks so empty,” 

“People actually drive all the way out here and break in? The last time i saw a turn off the road before this one was an hour ago,” 

“You never know, it's best to just check and fill out a report sooner rather than later,” in the kitchen the backdoor is made of two foggy planes of glass, only the outline of kai seen in the weavering shape. He twists the knob and to your surprise it gives way and opens, “damn one of my sisters must have forgotten to lock it last they were here,” You lean your hip against the kitchen island, taking his explanation as is. 

“They come out here to check too?”

“Rarely they mostly come with their friends but stopped when they realized there is zero phone service this far out,” 

“There isn't?” you hadn't even checked to see if your phone was working, “what if someone had broken in? You have no phone to make a call from,” 

He chuckles pointing past your shoulder, right on the end of the counter a sleek black cordless landline rests in its holder, the blinking red light showing one waiting voicemail. “Sometimes it can be spotty but for the most part its a solid line of communication,” 

Hand still on the knob of the backdoor he locks the door before walking over to the pantry, finding only a crate of dusty wine and a stack of old jiffy pop popcorn. 

“Wait, I didn't think they made these anymore,” you reach out for the thin metal handle attached to the panshapped popcorn container. Shaking it you hear the rattle of the kernels, “when i was younger i thought it was just something people had in movies,” 

“My sisters and i love the stuff, it's also easy to pop outside over the fire,” 

“So all you leave is popcorn and wine when you're not staying here?” you tap the crate of wine with your foot, his grin boyish and shy. 

“It's a good thing for us now i guess,” 

It's what leads you to sharing the bottle, passing it by the neck as he gives you a tour of the house. His lips right at the spout, nerves loosening up with each sip he takes, creaking steps leading up the second floor. “And here is my room,” 

It’s right at the end of the hall, bed neatly made with a single stuffed penguin sitting against the pillows. “You left him here all alone?” You ask, picking up the plushie, Kai's standing in front of the closet, the slatted doors making up most of the wall behind him facing the bed. 

He shrugs placing the half full wine bottle down on his dresser, “someone needed to protect my prize possession,” he falls right onto the mattress, head thrown back, hair spilling against the pillows, “i always sleep so good in this bed,” cheeks flushed from the wine, half lidded eyes watching you from under his lashes. It's an invitation you don't pass up. 

You climb in after him, feeling relaxed from drinking even if it was only a little bit, you can tell it's helped him too, his lazy smile so blissful. “I'm sure this bed is good for other things too,” you don't even care about being bold, not alone with him under you as you dip your head, nose brushing his. 

The first kiss is so soft, a brush of lips together lasting no longer than a second. Kai whines in the back of his throat, an ache for more hidden in the desperate sound. It's addicting to have someone seem so needy for your attention, his legs instinctively tangling with yours, hand at the back of your neck pulling you back down for another kiss.

The two of you fumbling to feel at each other, your hand sliding up under his shirt to touch his warm skin, his stomach flexing at the brush of your cold fingertips. His hand at your waist pulling you closer to him, needing you as close as he can get you. The kiss is sloppy in seconds, his tongue sliding against yours, noses bumping as you breath in each other.  You can feel that he's semi-hard, pressed against your thigh between his legs. 

He's a mess, whimpering when you pull away to take off your sweater, leaving you braless in a tank top. greedy hands back on you, pulling you back down on top of him, he’s grinding onto you desperately, fully hard from only kissing. 

every little noise he makes is caught in your mouth, his fingers fumbling for the button on your jeans. you have to pull away after his failed attempt, giggling as you brush his hair back, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening we have all night,” you remind him, “I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” he's looking up at you with total devotion, with an expression that lets you know he'd let you do anything if you asked. 

“Please?” and it doesn't even matter what he's begging for, you would let him do just about anything in return for looking at you like that. 

You're quick to rid yourself of your pants, falling back to the bed and letting him roll on top of you. Hands in his hair as he presses into you, one hand holding himself up while the other snakes down between you two. The soft gasp you let out eggs him on, drawing soft circles over your clothed clit like he knows exactly what to do. You twist your fingers into his hair, his lips tracing down your neck, hips back to grinding into your thigh. At first you don't notice the smell of popcorn. It's faint upstairs, wafting in through the vents, buttery and warm as kai slips his fingers into you. Your hips rolling on his hand, meeting every thrust, heel of his palm pressed to your clit. 

It isn't until the popcorn starts to burn that you say something, the tang in the air subtle as kai sucks hickeys on your sensitive skin. “Is something on fire?” 

Kai pulls away from the crook of your neck, “what the fuck?” breathing deeply to catch the scent. It's clear in the air now, hanging around like a question. “Stay here,” 

it's so unceremonious when he pulls his hand from your panties, fingers dropping onto his tongue to clear them, “i'll be right back, okay?” 

“O-okay,” you're confused more than anything, knees pulling in feeling overly exposed all of a sudden. It's silent in the house, the soundtrack of your kissing dimmed to nothing, before it's replaced with the creaking of his dissipating steps down the stairs. 

You feel a little foolish sitting in his bed, the crumpled sheets and discarded plushie a reminder that this is not normal for a hook up at all. Letting out a long breath you push out of the bed, all relaxation felt before now gone as you reach for the wine bottle on the dresser. You take a heavy swig from the bottle, needing your courage back. It felt silly to worry over burnt popcorn. 

Your stomach turns, sickening realization settling in. the two of you had only picked up the wine, neither of you even put the jiffy pop close to the stove's burners. You're quick to look for your phone, checking in the pile of your clothes on the floor, and finding nothing. Your bag was by the door downstairs, right next to the shoes, if your phone wasnt up here it was bound to be in your bag. 

You didn't say anything as you made it to the top of the stairs, not until the phone rang. Not the familiar song that came through your speakers but the deft echo of a warning siren. The kind of ringtone that was played in a movie when someone was receiving bad news, and it didn't stop, traveling up the stairs, playing once, twice, until nothing but silence. 

“Huening?” your voice wasn't as strong as you wished, faulting at the end as you took your first step down the stairs. 

No response. 

The last step creaks under your weight, the sound triggering the phone, that chilling ringtone back in the air. All the lights are on, nothing outside the windows visible as you watch your reflection walk past. You look right at the front door as you walk past, all of your things still in place, even Kai's shoes are still right where he left them. 

In the kitchen you find the ringing phone, the little screen bright green as it shows the incoming call. The skins faucet turned on, the pelting water beating down on the thin aluminum foil of the jiffy pop, hastily tossed into the basin. Thin rivulets of smoke still curling from the singed popcorn. The stove's gas burner still lit with a blue flame. 

The ringing continues as you turn everything off, feeling suddenly too cold and alone standing under the golden lights. It doesn't help that you're only dressed in your panties and tanktop, bare feet padding across the tile to pick you the phone. 

Unknown caller. Read the directory, not even the number shown underneath. You hit answer before you could think better of it. 

“Hello?” your pulse was in your ears, washing down your neck, but you're stunned to recognize the voice over the phone. 

“What's your favorite scary movie?” 

You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before you respond, “kai, are you using the ghostface voice on me right now? You already had your hand down my pants no need for the theatrics,” 

You can't even pick up a trace of his real voice over the filter, the soft chuckle on the other line trickling down your spine. “You didn't answer my question, you have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“So we’re quoting the movie now?” you ask, looking around the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop. “Should i go all in and start asking to make it to the sequel?” 

He chuckles, so soft and sensual, unlike his usual boisterous laugh. “Maybe…but a little birdie told me that you're not a virgin and you know what happens to those who sleep around right?” 

“Enlighten me,” you cross your arms smiling at your reflection in the window. It's a bit silly to be here roleplaying in the first place but it's not like you're against it. What gets you is that it's coming from kai of all people. So soft and sweet, giggling and shyly walking you home. But you truly never know what a persons into until you're faced first with it. 

“They don't last very long,” so smug as he says it. 

“They don't?” 

“Nope, and you have a list of things that you've already done wrong. I don't know if you truly deserve to make it to the sequel,” 

“Oh? What did I do wrong?” you smile, checking out your nails, thumb running along the bed of your cuticles as you listen. 

“Humm, let me see. First you're all alone in that big old house, did anyone ever tell you never to go into the dark and scary woods all alone?” 

“I'm not alone, i have you,” 

He ignores the last half of your statement, “Aren't you? hum, funny how i don't see the boytoy around anymore,” 

“I can't believe you planned all of this, who knew you would be so freaky? I can't say that it doesn't turn me on though,” 

“Oh? How cute that you still think I'm your little boyfriend. I mean didn't you see the signs? The door was unlocked in the back, popcorn on the stove when you didn't put it there, and now a missing boy toy. It's a shame you seem to have forgotten everything you've learned in class, or maybe it was the wine,” 

“A few sips won't make me stupid, seriously huening come out, i want to get back into your bed,” you push off the counter, walking back toward the living room until you're stopped dead in your tracks. The sound isn't coming from the phone but just up ahead around the corner.

Your laugh echoes in the empty house, followed by your own words, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening, we have all night, I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” 

You follow each line into the living room, the tv on and showing a video of only minutes ago. 

“Please?” kais weavering voice seems so loud here instead of between you two. 

You can see yourself push down your pants, watch the way the two of you fall right back into each other. Only now you're seeing it from the perspective of the closet, it's the only place you could think of that he would have placed the camera. The slats of the wood even in frame. It's like someone dropped a bucket of ice water on top of you. Standing in front of the tv as if you're Carrie from the prom and someones set up a cruel joke. 

“Cute huh?” the voice over the phone asks, that little laugh following right after, “i sure think it is. Look at the way your body reacts to his fingers, you’ll be that pretty for me won't you?” 

You feel the hair on the back of your neck rise, the house too big for this kind of game. Even just standing there now alone it felt like you were a fish in a bowl, stuck to be watched from all sides. And not from the video but from the figure standing right on the outside of the window. 

He was dressed in all black, nothing like what kai had been wearing before. And covering his face the dripping white mask of ghostface. You only catch a glimpse because the lights are on but it's enough to remind you that maybe this isn't a joke. “Are you outside?” 

“I don't know? Am i?” but as he says it you see down the hallway a dark figure step out of a doorway. 

Everything in you freezes, your heart rate plummeting, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin. You hadn't even noticed your fingers had been trembling before, not until your deathgrip on the phone starts to hurt. “Don't hang up on me,” he warns over the line, but the person down the hall doesnt even have a phone in sight, his slow prowl reminding you to move. 

You take off back towards the kitchen, the back door playing in your head as the best possible exit but as soon as you're in front of it, tugging on a door knob needs to be unlocked you see the haze reflection of two more figures waiting right against the glass. You can hear the laugh of the person on the phone even if it's not to your ear as you rush to pull open any drawer that might have something in it to protect you. But every pull leads you to find nothing at all, “what the fuck!” 

The door shakes as they try to pull it open, the glass rattling as you lift the phone back to your ear, “okay huening, that's enough, i get it, ha ha, funny, but seriously-” 

“Were you looking for a knife?” he cuts you off, voice so calm when you're falling apart. 

“What?” you're exasperated, huffing the question like it's a slap in the face. 

“I know where one is, if you want it,” 

It's then that the masked man from the hall comes into the kitchen, the steel knife in his hands glinting in the light. “You have to be fucking kidding me right now,” youre desprate to find an explanation for this. The island is between the two of you, his head tilting to the side, the open mouth of the mask mocking you as he takes slow steps around the marble. You're matching his every move, both of you circling the kitchen like two fighters waiting for the ding of a bell. 

The door rattles again, the sound making you yelp, hand pressed to your racing heart. It's the distraction you need to bolt right through the kitchens arch way and run to the front door. 

You're moving so fast you have little time to slow down, partially slamming into the door, fingers fast to twist the locks. 

As soon as it's opened you're standing face to face with another ghostface mask, his black clad outfit sticking to his figure as he towers over you, phone hovering right over the mask's gaping mouth. “Hum not out the front door i guess,” 

You try to slam the door shut but his boot clad foot moves fast catching it right before it could close completely. Spinning you run towards the stairs, the sound of their following footsteps close behind. The door to the bedroom is still wide open as you barrel through turning around and throwing the door closed and twisting the lock. 

But it's only a moment of relief when you feel a hand clasp around your mouth. Your scream is muffled from their fingers, your eyes closing as if that would fix the situation, the phone in your hand falling to the floor, “Shhh it's okay,” Kai whispers, a strong arm wrapping around your middle pulling you closer to him. 

The weight is lifted off your shoulders hearing his voice, hands wrapping around the one covering your mouth to tug it away. “What is going on?” you ask, pulling yourself away from him. your back is to the door and he steps closer backing you right up against it. 

“Didn't you say you found it kinda hot, the whole fear thing?” he asks, leaning close enough to kiss, “i wanted to make it extra special for you, and you don't mind if we all share you, right?” his knuckle lifts your chin up so you’re eye to eye, nose to nose, his normal shy smile turned devilish. “All you have to do is say no,” 

It was crazy to say yes. your heart still pounding, breathing only just starting to regulate, and yet you want him, you want them. “I-I don’t- I don’t want to say no,” 

“Then don’t,” he pushed his whole body against yours, engulfing you in his warmth, taking you for another kiss like you hadn’t left the room at all. You don't even notice him unlocking the door, not until the knob is shaking against your back. 

Kai pulls you towards the bed, the closet doors behind him open showing the empty space with a lone camera on a tripod. The red light looking back at you like a warning, you looked right down the barrel of the lens wondering if you would ever see this again, and praying that you did. Kai fit his fingers over you eyes, “don't look at it, don’t think about its there,” 

You hear a chuckle, so similar to the one over the phone, only without the filter. Now so easily recognizable as yeonjun, you can picture the way his mouth looks as he does it, his canines on display as he smirks. You don't even have to see him to know, you've known all of them so long you're sure one touch and you could guess who was who. And with both of kais hands on your eyes the brush of someone's fingers on your cheek lets you know exactly who it is. Soobins hands are the softest of the bunch and your face tilts in his direction. “Soobin?”

he lets out a huff of a laugh, “you caught me. And you know it's kind of rude not to open the back door when we come knocking,” 

“You scared me,” it's a soft confession that they all chuckle at. 

“Did we?” beomgyu teases, so much closer than you expected, the ghost of his touch going up your arm, goosebumps popping up along the trail. 

Your senses are on overdrive, pulse loud enough to be heard if one listens close enough, every little thing heightened by your fading fear and covered eyes. You feel a hand slip down your stomach stopping right before your panty line, a single finger sliding under the waistline to pull it and let it snap back against your skin. You jolt from the contact, body flush with kai’s, his hard cock pressed to your back. 

You hear rustling from the closet, and kai lets you go, letting you see yeonjun taking the camera in hand. He's adjusting the viewfinder, the others standing in a circle around you, it should be intimidating, the masks off now, looking at you like you're something to eat. It's taehyun that steps forward first, thumb reaching out to drag across your bottom lip. You open your mouth letting him press the digit flat against your tongue. 

“You’ll be good for us, won't you?” he asks, and you close your mouth sucking his finger as you nod. He smirks, “i want first,” 

It's all he says before he's pushing you down on the bed. It's so quick the air is almost knocked right out of you, your hands scrambling to find purchase on the beds duvet cover. It's almost a shame how wet you already are, the way your panties are cut away, the cold knife in taehyuns free hand only just brushing your skin. The fabric tossed around from person to person. “I did most of the work,” kai adds as you bury your face into the sheets, “she wouldn't be this prepped if i didn't start early,” 

“And that's why you have to wait,” “You didn't even get her off,” they talk over each other.  

“You guys didn't give me time!” kai tries but they ignore him when you give a sharp whine. 

Taehyun shoves his fingers right into you, your body so willing to take him in. but you hear his belt being undone with one hand, and it's a shame you cant see the way his cock looks from this angle, because as he pressed the tip right at your entrance, slick fingers helping to lude up his veiny shaft, you can tell he's going to be the perfect stretch. 

Your moan as he sinks into your warm heat is echoed by the rest of them, a choir of the perfect voices turned husky and wanting. “Holy shit,” teahyun breathes his hand pressed right to your lower back, your feet dangling right off the edge of the bed, toes only just barely touching the ground. 

“Doesn't she feel amazing?” kai asks, “fuck i bet she fits like a fucking dream,” gyu adds as he walks over to the other side of the bed climbing in to lay against the headboard. His zipper was already undone, pants low on his hips as he watched you get pounded into. 

Because tae was not holding back anymore, it felt like he had been waiting all night for this exact moment, to chase his high without question. And your pussy was so welcoming, sucking him in, practically begging for his cum. 

Yeonjun walked around the bed, zeroing the camera in on you as your legs bend, heel of your feet pushing on taes thighs. Taehyun wraps his hands in your hair, tugging your head back, extending your throat to the camera, arching your back just right, “i want to be able to watch back how you looked while i fucked you okay?” 

“Oh, look at that, huening marked up our toy already,” soobin reaches out a finger, tracing over the hickey kai had left on your skin, your eyes were wide and begging as you watched him, mouth caught open in a moan as taes thrusts turned sloppy. “Fuck, look at that mouth,” 

yeonjun bent down to catch the image. “I think someone needs to fill it,” 

Soobin didn't need to be told twice. He was tugging his cock out of his jeans, leaking precum already dotting the tip as he gave it long languid strokes. Your mouth was already watering at the sight, knowing taking him down your throat would be a task but one you wouldn't back away from. 

But taehyun was already cumming, orgasm cresting as he slammed his hips into your ass, cock twitching as he let out a deep rumbling moan. He let go of your hair, head falling forward into the duvet as he stilled inside you pressing as close as he could get, the tip of his cock hitting you just right as he spilled inside you. 

“I want next!” gyu calls out, raising his hand like he knows the answer to a question. 

“No-” soobin starts but beomgyu is already moving from his stop on the bed as taehyun pulls out, the gush of warmth leaving your cunt dripping down your thighs. Yeonjun is quick to catch the sight on film. 

“Look at that,” it sounds so endearing coming from him, a true sight to behold as you whine from the feeling of being empty. You feel like a ragdoll as soobin pulls on you, tugging you further up the bed so that you're on your hands and knees in front of him. 

“Open,” his tip is already prodding at your lips. You feel the bed dip behind you, gyu finding his place as he drags his fingers through the leaking cum traveling down your legs, he does his best to shove it right back into you, fingers dragging over your clit, circling it as soobin shoves his cock right into your mouth. 

You give a muffled yelp, tongue flattening to make it easier for him to slide in and out of. His head is rolling back, hair spilling around his ears as he moans. He twists his fingers in your hair, both hands wrapping around your head to bob you up and down on his dick like his own personal toy. You're nails dig into the sheets, the sloppy sounds of him fucking your throat taking up the most sound. 

Beomgyu keeps one hand on your clit and the other guides his cock into you, he's quick to snap his hips forward sending you forward on soobin, until you're choking for air. Moans sending vibrations up along soobins shaft. His eyes tighten, needing to pull away before he cums too quickly, face flushed red as rivulets of your saliva still connect you to him. 

The constant pressure put on your clit from beomgyus fingers has your stomach tightening in knots. Now that you're not taking soobin in beomgyu picks up his pace, the skin on skin slapping sounds melding with your whines. “I want you to cum for me, i want to be the first one to make you cum, please,” he sounds so desperate, not matching the way he drills into you, tip hitting your cervix in a mix of painful pleasure. He can feel your fluttering walls, every particularly hard thrust making your cunt react just right. And when you cum hes a blubbering mess, “fuck fuck fuck-” not expecting to cum so fast, but youre drawing it out of him, with each little sound you make. He's almost embarrassed by how long he cums for, head falling forward to rest on your shoulder blade, his dick pulsing inside you, curses turning to nonsense, the drawn out, “fuuu- ahh, ah,”  

“Look at how pretty she looks when she cums,” yeonjun smiles, bringing the camera close to catch the way you are trying to blink the spots from your vision, “soobin next? Or maybe kai? Both of them seem to have waited so long for you,” 

Kai leans back against the dresser, arms crossed as he watches you, expressionless as he follows the shape of your body. Only one of your tank tops straps are on, your breasts already spilling out from the thin fabric, soobins eyes caught on your peaked nipples as he strokes himself. But you look back over to huening, the way he's standing there like he's unaffected at all. But you know it's not true, not when he's straining in his pants, the bulge itself drives you insane. “Hyuka?” 

The shyness in your voice is what does it for him, beomgyu only just pulling out of you with a hiss. More cum dribbling out as he pushes his hair back looking at his handiwork. Yeonjun is right next to him too, getting the perfect shot. 

Taehyun languidly lounges back against the headboard, cock still hard as it rests against his stomach, hand wrapped around the base as he watches you. It distracts you enough not to see kai moving replacing gyus spot. 

Kai wraps his hand in your hair but unlike taehyun he forcefully pushes your head down into the mattress. The whole mit of his hand cups your skull, your whimper making him chuckle. His free hands traced up your side, slipping under your tank top as he feels along your skin. “You know I was thinking about this the whole walk back after our study night?” his hand dips down fingers sliding along your wetness, “i kept thinking about how perfect it would be to absolutely ruin you,” 

You're already sensitive from finishing already and kai can tell as your thighs tremble but it wont stop him from pinching your clit. Your hips push back against him, yelping as he goes on to rub circles over the bundle of nerves. “Seeing it happen- watching you get used as a little cum dump is so much better than I ever imagined,” he works your clit, building up his speed until your back is arching, nails biting into your palm as you feel your orgasm building too quickly. You're trying to rock back into his hand but the way he has you bent helps very little. Your cries heighten until he pulls it all away. 

“No huening please!” 

“Aww how cute, she's begging,” beomgyu laughs and you're whimpering in response. 

“Kai…please!” 

“You're already doing so well because i want you begging to be filled with my cum, crying from how badly you want it,” his hand goes back to your cunt, pressing into your clit rubbing at a pace that has you seeing stars, your hands scratch out for looking for anything to hold onto. Yeonjun takes your hand in his keeping the camera facing your reaction as your eyes roll back. Its in the middle of your climax that kai pushes his cock into you, finding a punishing rhythm as he fucks you into the matterss. 

“Beg for it,” he growls, hand in your hair twisting in the strands. You can feel him all the way to your throat, stretched out so good, he presses right into your gspot like he was made for you. 

“P-please- hyuka i need it- i-” you cant even get the words out anymore, the squeaking of the bed building as he increases his speed. You can hear the wet sounds of the other boys jerking off, “i want your c-cum, i need it,” 

“Louder,” yeonjun mutters in front of you, your death grip on his hand not loosening anytime soon. 

“I want it! I need your cum, please!” But Huenings is so lost chasing his own high that he drops his hand from your clit to grab your hip, his bruising hold and brutal thrusts making you cry out. 

Beomgyu reaches down under you, fingers finding just the right rhythm to send you over the edge at the same time kai cums. His faltering thrusts and throaty moans makes you feel weak. Your cunt is strangling his cock, his release pushed as deep as he could get it into you. When he pulls out you collapse onto the bed, completely used up. 

It feels never ending body too tired already when you feel soobin climb into the bed. He lays right behind your exhausted form, both of you on your sides facing yeonjun, “look who's next, do you think you could get another one out of her? I hear you're only a freak in theory and not practice,” 

But soobin doesn't take the bait, one hand sliding under you and wrapping around your chest, hand coming up to cup your breast, fingers twisting your hard nipple, and the other lifting your leg to get better access to your leaking cunt. Your thighs are so sticky soobins fingers slip on his hold, having to tighten his grip to make sure he can keep you open. He's been ready since the start, his cock aching as it prods your now puffy swollen cunt, so used you're sure you would be sore for days. 

When he sinks in your whimpers are so soft they are hardly heard. Yeonjun is kneeling on the floor, arm holding the camera resting on the bed. He captures the way soobins dick slides in with ease, no resistance now with how much slick is coming out of you. Every drag of soobins cock comes away stained in white. A ring of the combined cum circling the base, balls sticking to your skin with every thrust. 

His breathy moans are lost against your neck, pitiful little sounds before he's muttering, “im sorry, oh god- im-” 

“Don't you dare cum yet,” yeonjun warns soobin, who pauses his thrusts trying to listen but can't find it in him to restrain. Yeonjuns fingers pinch at your clit, your whole body reacting to the feeling, jolting you back to life as you cum. soobin unable to handle the pressure and is a complete mess, whimpering as he pulls you closer, hugging you as if he could merge bodies. 

It took him a while to finally pull out, a much needed break for only a few breaths before yeonjun passes the camera to taehyun to keep the filming going. You can feel the weakness all the way down to your bones, sure if you stand you could collapse to the floor, legs too weak to hold you up. But yeonjun is looking at you like you're being served on a silver platter, all done up with all the best fixings. 

“Best for last huh?” he grins climbing over you brushing under your eye to catch a single tear that's fallen from your overstimulation. “Its so fun to see you so dumb on cock, so unlike how we usually see you,” 

You hum in response as he pushes your legs open, hands at the back of your knees pushing them to your chest. When he puts them over his shoulders you whimper, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck as he sinks into your wet heat. Bent in half you feel your toes curling, sure that if you came one more time you would be better off sleeping for the next year. “I think this is good practice, don't you?” he asks like you'll respond to him with anything other than a string of muffled whimpers. Your body is coated in a thin layer of sweat, sticking to his skin as he takes a slow pace. It's like he's apologizing, lips peppering across your cheek, down your neck. “We’ll keep you so happy, stuffed full like you deserve. Would you like that?” 

You're nodding, eyes closing as he uses you. You don't even notice the way your body is reacting, that slow rise of your next orgasm building up, “i-” you can’t think about cumming again already feeling so dumbed out. 

“Hum? Are you going to cum, pretty?” he picks up his pace, sinking his hips and hitting you right against your g spot. Your head rolls back as it washes over you, body tightening until you feel like you’ve combusted into little particles. “Oh look at that, so perfect for me, your pussy feels so good when it's squeezing me like this,” it's all he says before he’s trembling, a guttural moan taking over as he cums, you swear you can feel its warmth spreading throughout you. And when he pulls out he takes the camera back from taehyun focusing it in on the sight of all the combined release staining your folds. 

“Look at how she pushes it out,” beomgyu says, mesmerized by the way you look leaking so much cum. But it's Kai who leans down, fingers collecting anything he can before shoving all the cream right back into you. “Its almost like she wants us to fuck it right back in,” 

🏷taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 @tomorrowxforever r @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii i @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae @nessaassen02 @iluvhyukaa @mrsjohnnysuh @wand3rlustm3

thank you so much to @beomiracles @prince-jjae and @thetxtdevil for beta/proofreading the first part of this fic!

[dollyyun]

BACK TO YOU ✧ L.HS

SYNOPSIS ✧ interesting things happen ever since the guys came back from the tour that leads to you finding out a possessive side to your boyfriend, but it doesn’t bother you the way his relentless teasing does, practically edging you. yet, you know that it is only a matter of time until he caves in to his temptation, but will you be able to take everything what he promised you during your video call two nights ago?

PAIRING ✧ idol bf!heeseung x fem reader GENRE ✧ idol au, dynamic between characters (with enha members), fluffs, soft and sappy moments, soft love, loverboy heeseung, little (no) plot WARNINGS ✧ reader is needy, (are we even surprised), reader whines and whimpers a lot (same), jealous-possessive!heeseung, softdom!hee, meandom!hee, sub!reader, unprotected sex(no!), rough sex, pure filth at some point (i hope), eventual love making, dirty talks, praise kink, daddy kink, breeding kink, degradation, spittings, hair pulling, making out, lots of kissing, dry humping, fingering, choking, pussy and tit slapping, oral (f&m rec.), cum eating, clit stimulations, nipple play, bondage (uses of restraint), creampies, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, crying, aftercare, heeseung is so fucking in love WORD COUNT ✧ 24.9K (my bad)

A/N ✧ no actual serious plot but lots of yapping and badly written smut, idc either fw it like i do or don’t. also i fear idol bf!hee agenda is becoming a serious business for me….anyway may or may not have pt 3 with bf! heeseung and redacted.

PREV PART | SERIES MASTERLIST

Your knuckles are taut with tension as you grip the paper bag tighter, waiting anxiously for the elevator to reach the correct level of their dorm. Your heart palpitates as soon as the elevator chimes open, leaving you no choice but to advance while your eyes are fixated on the familiar matte black door, but your steps remain tentative, as if you are nervous of meeting them for the very first time.

This is stupid, you think as you mentally berate yourself for this abrupt reluctance of yours. It isn’t that you didn’t wish to meet them when you were the one who zealously accepted your boyfriend’s offer earlier to have dinner with him and the guys, but you feel this odd sense of jitters all over your nerves, probably because it has been quite some time since you were in the presence of your boyfriend’s teammates. You admit that sometimes you feel intimidated by some of them, but the butterflies in your tummy are unmistakable at the thought of your very attractive boyfriend to the point where you feel the urge to throw up. 

“Woah, down girl.” You mutter to yourself, or rather, to your excited pussy that is fluttering just by the thought of him as you look down, biting back a groan at the sensation of your clit throbbing faintly.

You huff lightly, finally stopping in front of the door, but instead of pressing on the doorbell, you decide to do another check on your appearance, hoping that you look decent enough since you were in a hurry when you were making your way back home from work, adorned in a cute long-sleeved ruched lace top that complements the beige jacket hanging on your frame and a pair of flare denim jeans that accentuate your upper curves.

As it turns out, the guys finally touched down earlier today in the morning instead of nighttime, according to your boyfriend, who immediately called you to check in with you, like he always does whenever he comes back from a tour or any event. You couldn’t lie about the tiny disappointment you felt when he told you that he would be returning to his shared dorm with Jay, Sunghoon, and Riki. As for the other guys, they’re sharing another dorm, which is located below the other members’, and it is the one you are currently at.

The living arrangement with Heeseung isn’t that complicated — as your relationship progressed over the years, he began living with you at your apartment often, but during comeback season, he would stay at his shared dorm with the guys since it would be more convenient. You grew accustomed to his absence, of course, since you understood that it was part of his job and that it’s the reality of dating an idol, but each absence eventually formed a hole in your heart.

You sigh softly. shaking your head lightly at the sudden melancholia. You decide to press on to the doorbell, only to realise that the door is ajar, and so you slowly push open the door, a wave of familiarity hitting you as you enter the shared apartment of Jake, Sunoo, and Jungwon, since dinner will be held at their place instead. You bend down to remove your shoes.

Just as you take steps forward, your eyes are latched onto a passing tall figure who instantly stops in his tracks, his once-stoic face beaming with recognition and delight, which brings a smile to your lips. You can barely utter a greeting to him when he takes one long stride and engulfs you into a warm, friendly hug with his long limbs.

“You’re here!” Riki exclaims, still locking you in a bear-crushing hug that has you wheezing lightly, but nevertheless you reciprocate with equal eagerness, missing the younger one whom you’ve always seen and treating him like your brother. It takes a tap on his back from you to be conscious of his strength, causing him to release you. “Oops, sorry. I forget how tiny and fragile you actually are.”

You feign taking offence at his remark with a disbelieving gasp, your eyes shooting glares at his cheeky yet smirking countenance playfully. “I most certainly am not tiny. You’re just too tall!” You retort, huffing lightly when he sticks his tongue out at you in return. “Anyway, I bought you guys some desserts, if that’s alright.” You inform as you show the brown paper bag in your grasp.

Earlier, you decided to make a quick detour at the bakery since you didn’t want to come empty-handed despite Heeseung telling you that they would be ordering in. Plus, you know that the guys are huge foodies. 

Riki’s eyes light up like a kid receiving presents on a Christmas morning. “It’s more than alright. Thank you, shorty.” He pats your head as he grabs the paper bag from you before dodging your attack quickly just when you are about to smack him.

But your attention is soon drawn to another familiar face that greets you with a dimpled smile as he ambles towards you. “You’re right on time. The food arrived minutes ago before you came.” Jungwon tells you before he welcomes you with a hug, squeezing you lightly.

“We missed you!” Sunoo exclaims behind you before joining in the hug, eliciting a groan from you at the impact of being sandwiched between them. But you reciprocate the hug from them anyway, having grown accustomed to their clinginess to you.

“I missed you guys too. Now let me breathe.” You say breathlessly, earning mutters of ‘sorry’ from them before they release you. You look at them with a fond smile, examining the lines of exhaustion on their faces despite their smiles. “How was the tour?”

“It was fun, but we’re so glad to be back home.” Sunoo informs you, watching you as you busily remove your jacket, to which he offers to hang it at the side rack, and you give him a smile of gratitude in return.

“Hyung is in the living room.” Jungwon informs you just as you follow them to the route of their kitchen, but his words never register in your head as your attention is now directed to the three guys who you share the same age with, prompting you to halt your steps.

The amiable atmosphere is replaced by something foreign this time, your senses being on high alert for some reason, as though your instinct is able to detect potential dangers in charming disguises ahead of you.

Jay is leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, a lazy smirk etched on his countenance. Sunghoon is next to him, one hand tucked in his pocket while the other is occupied with his phone as he stops scrolling midway, his cold demeanour unreadable. Jake is leaning against the kitchen island with a wolfish grin on his lips. Their eyes fixated on you with an enigmatic but unmistakable intent.

You offer them a smile, ignoring the sudden awkward tension that feels palpable enough for you to be cautious of your next move. Despite knowing them for three years, you still find it hard to get along with them. Not saying that there is any bad blood between you and them or that you have never gotten along with them at all. It’s just that there is a lack of a close bond compared to the bond you have with the maknae line.

However, this time, you notice how their eyes seem to be examining you with indecipherable emotions, but at the same time, looking as if they know something you don’t, and you have no idea exactly what, or maybe you are just reading into it deeply. Still, you can’t shake off the feeling as though they caught you committing a blasphemous act.

A movement of another figure, the one you had keenly anticipated, captures your attention. Your eyes easily meet his dark ones that slowly drink you in, eliciting a reaction from your pussy that flutters and your clit throbs on instinct, but you hold back from pressing your thighs together to suppress the arousal. You decide to distract yourself to quickly scan his appearance, adorned in a black leather jacket that covers his white top, and when your eyes linger on his belt, you imagine yourself pulling him to you by the belt before kissing him hard on the lips, and his hair, God, he looks so good in a mullet.

When you return to meet his gaze again, you nearly melt into a puddle just by the intensity of his dark eyes alone, a soft smirk unfurling on his pink, kissable lips as he notices the familiar hunger glinting in your dreamy eyes. Good, because he feels the same way too — the primitive need to devour you as you look deliciously gorgeous, most especially the predatory urge to claim you in front of three specific individuals who are still eyeing you like a bunch of ravenous wolves studying their innocent, bunny prey.

“Hey, baby.” Heeseung greets you with a familiar affection that makes you feel giddy on the inside, but he gives you no opportunity to return his greeting when he pulls you by the arm and engulfs you in a hug — a very much-needed hug that you eagerly reciprocate, your arms latching around his broad back.

You blink back the tears that begin to accumulate in your waterline, feeling immensely relieved and happy that your lover has returned to you. You decide to pour your pent-up emotions into the hug, your arms tightening around him with such desperation, as though you fear he would disappear again. Heeseung smiles softly, hearing the not-so-discreet sniffles from you while your body trembles in the security of his hold. 

You don’t mean to be melodramatic, but you really can’t help it. “You’re back. You’re really back.” You croak out, your hushed voice breaking in between your utterance that mirrors the way his heart breaks at the raw vulnerability you let slip between the cracks of your strong facade. You desperately cling onto him, and you can’t even bring yourself to care that you are still in the presence of his teammates, only focusing on him and his warmth that envelops you like a safety blanket.

“I’m back, sweetheart.” Heeseung affirms, his tone an addicting mellow that you want to listen to all day and night. His arms tighten around your body, being careful not to suffocate you but firm enough to ground you to this delicate moment. “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry for leaving you again, sweetheart.” He continues to whisper in your ear affectionately, his voice remaining a steady lull while his hand cradles your head with his fingers massaging your scalp tenderly.

You continue to bask in his warmth with your face pressed into the nook of his neck, inhaling his familiar cologne that makes your head dizzy in a good way. Eventually, the tension in your nerves dissipates, and you begin to go lax in his arms, practically melting into him and enjoying how secure you feel being in his dependent arms. You hear him inhaling sharply when the tip of your nose grazes lightly against his skin.

“Let me take a look at your pretty face.” Heeseung murmurs, his hands go cradling your face and forcing you to meet his eyes. Your breath hitches at the closeness between your faces, being hyperaware of his teammates in your presence, but he spares no concern to them as he continues to look at you as if you’re his whole universe, completely enamoured by you. “My pretty baby. The prettiest girl ever, and she’s mine.”

You are taken aback by something dark that shadows his once soft countenance, as though he is possessed by an alter ego you have no idea existed, and the dark undertone of possessiveness in the way he speaks is not lost on you. “Hee—”

Your word is barely a whisper when Heeseung slams his lips into yours, wasting no time in claiming your lips that he had always dreamed of kissing every night on the bed alone, and he can’t even give a fuck that there are eyes watching this intimate moment between two lovers, knowing that he is doing this on purpose to let them know that he’s the one who you’re kissing so passionately as you reciprocate.

The kiss feels searing, all-encompassing enough to melt any worries from your mind as well as painting the background in a blur, and it hurts so good in the way his lips feel bruising as he kisses you hard, deepening the kiss that sends familiar signals to your now-throbbing clit. In the fiery exchange of your kisses, you loop your arms around his neck while he locks his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him than you already are.

“I’ve *smooch* missed *smooch* you *smooch* so *smooch* fucking *smooch* much.” He mutters in between kisses while the wet noise of his lips smacking against yours is conspicuous. You mewl into the kiss, your brain going mushy at the passion of his kisses as though you are his oxygen. He is ravenous, utterly insatiable, but you can feel the love and affection he’s pouring into the kiss.

Soon enough, the intensity of your passionate exchange dwindles, followed by an intervention of a grating cough that is loud enough as it slices through the air for Heeseung to grasp self-control. He sighs lowly against your lips while you can feel his annoyance before he pulls away from you, rendering you disappointed as you swallow down a needy whine.

“We’re still here, you know?” Jake’s tone of mischief prompts you to look over to the three men, who remain unmoving from their prior position. A boyish grin smears across Jake’s face as he continues to look at the two of you, but a fleeting look of something passes by his eyes before you can even decipher it.

“Go on. Reek of the living room with your disgusting lovefest.” Jay remarks snidely with sarcasm lacing his tone. Usually, you wouldn’t feel affected by his remark as he has teased you before, but this time, you feel a pang of hurt by his sharp tongue. You don’t even dare to spare a glance at him, feeling his dark gaze penetrating into you that makes you squirm lightly.

When your eyes accidentally meet Sunghoon’s icy ones, a wave of embarrassment washes over you at the realisation that they have been watching your heated lip-lock with your lover for who knows how long. Your face flushes warmly before you choose to bury your face into Heeseung’s chest, instinctively snuggling into him while he strokes the back of your hair tenderly and his other arm remains locked around your waist.

“Sorry. I couldn’t resist my girl.” Heeseung sounds anything but apologetic, and you can discern a taunting smirk on his lips in the way he speaks. “You know how much I’ve been missing her and all.”

“Oh, we know that much.” Sunghoon speaks up this time, his icy voice sending involuntary shivers down your spine, but you are sharp enough to catch onto the double meaning of his words, or maybe you’re just reading into it deeply again. “Might want to consider toning down the excessive PDA since we still have kids present.”

You can feel the sudden tension that mounts rapidly between your lover and his teammates, eliciting a confused frown from your lips. The way Heeseung’s arms tighten around you feels taut, as though he is more than pissed off by their remarks. When you slowly lift your head to see your lover, he has his focus directed to them, displaying his handsome side profile to you.

Yup, he’s mad, and you know your man rarely ever gets mad unless it’s some serious shit that is on an astronomical level. His whole facade looks disconcertingly calm, completely tamed, but lethal. You can see the anger in the way a muscle pulses in his jaw as he clenches it, rendering you aroused at the wrong time. Just how fucked up it is when you really want him to be mad at you just like that while he fucks his anger into you.

Yet, you can’t help but wonder what exactly the 02z did to piss Heeseung off when you know it yourself that they would sometimes tease him the way they did earlier. You have a strong inkling that they had done something that felt personal to him.

Before anyone can speak, Sunoo captures their attention, his voice mollifying the palpable tension in the air. “Excuse me? We’re not kids, thank you very much. Mind you that I’ve watched things that are not very kids’ friendly.” He sounds very much offended, but it is enough to draw a soft chuckle out of you.

Their heads, including your lover’s, turn to you simultaneously as soon as the heavenly sound leaves your lips, but instead of being self-conscious of their collective attention on you, the smile on your lips widens, giggling as you watch Sunoo throwing daggers at Sunghoon with his fox-like eyes before giving him his iconic dirty look.

“You’re so fucking adorable.” Heeseung can barely contain the cuteness aggression he has towards you, his fingers gripping your chin firmly to get your attention on him instead. He presses his lips into yours once more as you gasp softly into the kiss, mewling when he faintly bites down on your bottom lip yet in a playful manner. “My gorgeous girl. My angel baby.”

You nearly melt into your lover again when Jungwon intervenes this time, forcing you to break the lip lock. “Alright, lovebirds, enough of that. The food is still warm, so get your asses over to the dining table before it gets cold.”

Heeseung sighs softly in disappointment, but mischief glints in his eye before he leans in to give you a peck on the lips, eliciting another giggle from you. He begins to usher you to the dining table with his hand sliding down to tuck in the back of your jeans so casually as he has you glued to his hip, not that you minded.

“You know, this leader thing of yours doesn’t work on me.” You tell Jungwon rather sassily as you walk past him while the unfamiliarity of your bold cheekiness earns eyebrow raises from some, knowing that this side of you is only reserved for the maknaes.

“But it got you moving.” Jungwon retorts with a smirk on his face while you head towards the table. He makes a face when you stick your tongue out to him. “You act more childishly than I do. Geez, are you sure you’re older than me?”

“Nah, she’s not. She’s also a shorty, remember?” Riki adds as he makes his way to his seat next to Jake, high-fiving Jungwon along the way, his input earning a disbelieving gasp from you.

“Wait till I get my hands on you brats—” You don’t even get to finish off your sentence when Heeseung pulls you down to sit next to him, firm in the way he handles it but careful enough for you not to trip.

Amusement dances in his eye while a smirk twitches on his lips, seeing your sulky countenance with a small pout forming on your kissable lips. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You can teach the kids a lesson or two about treating elders with respect after dinner. I’ll help you.”

“Hyung, you’re supposed to be on our team!” Riki exclaims, feigning hurt and betrayal with a dramatic gasp while you roll your eyes at his usual theatrics.

“And for the last time, we’re not kids!” Sunoo sighs exasperatedly, who is seated next to you, but his whine of disapproval is disregarded by your lover.

“You must be crazy to think that I wouldn’t be on my girlfriend’s team.” Heeseung tells him bluntly, multitasking in filling up your plate with the choices of food of your liking while his natural instinct to provide for you first has you preening silently. “Plus, my girlfriend is always right.” He ends off with an affectionate kiss on your crown, nearly eliciting a satisfied purr from you.

The guys collectively emit sounds that express their derision and disgust, which you know is meant to tease the two of you like they always do, but you can’t help but discern how genuine some specific individuals express. You decide to ignore them and focus on filling your empty stomach.

Throughout the dinner, the guys break into separate conversations while you eat silently, enjoying and savouring the delicious food, until they eventually drift to the same topic regarding the tour concert and their overall experience. Even the tension between Heeseung and 02z has dissipated, as they seem amiable with each other. They also include you in their conversation, sharing and telling you about their experiences enthusiastically, and you give reactions and your input whenever appropriate.

That is until you begin to feel distracted when Heeseung places his hand on your thigh, his fingers being dangerously close to your core that eventually pulsate with need as he occasionally squeezes your thigh. You try not to squirm as you continue to keep up with their conversation, but it gets harder when all you can think about is his fingers going knuckle-deep into your cunt right here and now.

You finally cave in when you press your thighs together, only to be surprised when he uses his hand alone to force your leg part open until the side of your thigh is glued to his. You take a glance at Heeseung, in complete disbelief at how casual he looks as he continues to converse with Jake and Riki.

You narrow your eyes at him as he ignores you, bringing out an annoyed huff from you before you shove another boneless chicken into your mouth, hoping that the delectable garlic flavour is enough to distract you from his hand that remains squeezing your thigh tantalisingly every so often. He’s definitely teasing you, knowing how easily you can get wet because of his hand on your thigh alone, or any part of your body for that matter.

After what feels like an agonising eternity, his hand finally leaves your thigh, allowing you to regulate your uneven breathing by how delirious you were going in your head. You focus on the view in front of you, watching in amusement as the guys engage in a game of rock, paper, scissors. Of course, they would do this since each of them hates doing dishes the most.

“It’s okay. I’ll do the dishes instead.” You interject with a soft chuckle as you slowly rise from your chair, giving in to the pity you have for them, as currently, Jungwon and Sunghoon managed to win against them.

“No!” “It’s fine!” “Sit your pretty ass down!” is all you receive from them in an aggressive manner that elicits another amused chuckle from you, though you don’t miss the last rather flattering remark from Jay.

Just before you can insist again, a yelp leaves your lips when an arm easily locks around your waist to pull you down, finding yourself seated on Heeseung’s lap. Your heart pounds harder in your chest at the closeness between your bodies, and this marks the third time that Heeseung is displaying such intimate affection in front of the guys when he has never shown this much affection to you in their eyes throughout your relationship years, as he is the type to reserve this much affection for you behind closed doors.

“Hee, it’s okay. I can do it.” You tell him, only to feel his arm around your waist tightening in response, depriving you of any means of escape to bestow your generosity to the rest.

“Stay put, baby. You know that you are not included in this stupid game of ours.” Heeseung chides you softly, his tone carrying an undertone of warning that has your clit throbbing. You let out a huff but obey him anyway, though a part of you wants to rebel against him, desiring to find out what would happen afterward.

Eventually, the loser has been chosen, drawing applause and cheers from the other guys while you roll your eyes at their antics, but above all, you manage to wrench yourself out of your lover’s hold and quickly put some distance away in any case he decides to snatch you again, because as much as you love the idea of Heeseung being all touchy with you, your needy pussy is unable to take the prolonged heat any longer.

“I need to use the loo.” You inform him in a rush, not bothering to wait for his response as you bolt for the bathroom in the main hall.

Once you reach inside, you close the door and lock it, making your way over to the hand basin to wash your hands that are trembling just slightly from having to suppress the heat in you. You honestly feel like an animal in heat, desperately needing him to do something to your pussy that is nearly soaked by your own arousal. You look in the mirror to adjust any untidiness in your appearance before mustering the courage to go back out there.

Maybe you can’t completely avoid your lover, but you can definitely evade any of his wits and not indulge him for the sake of your own sanity. Only you know how badly horny you are at the wrong time. Besides, you can’t just go up to him and tell him to fuck you in their dorm here.

You feel like you’re a burglar, your head peeking out of the door to scan the area, noticing the 02z lounging in the living room, whereas Sunoo and Jungwon head into their respective rooms. No sign of Heeseung, suspiciously enough.

You don’t waste time in making your way to the kitchen with the intention to lessen Riki’s burden as you feel pity for him since he must be exhausted from the flight earlier. You instantly spot the giant maknae by the sink with his back facing you. As you get closer, you can hear a string of his grumblings that makes you smile.

“Let me help.” You speak up, startling him before he turns to look at you with hopeful eyes, but at the same time, he seems hesitant.

“It’s okay. Hyung would be mad if he finds out that you’re the one washing the dishes.” He says lightly, his lips forming a small pout.

“It’s really okay, Riks. I can finish washing the dishes fast. Besides, you’re such a slowpoke.” You tease him, wanting to allay any hesitance you can see in his eyes.

Riki breaks into a grin before he quickly washes his hands and dries them off. “You’re the best, you know that?” He gives you another gratitude with a kiss on your crown and a side hug, earning a soft smile from you at the normalcy of his unexpectedly friendly affection for you.

You pull up the sleeves of your top till your forearms before proceeding to handle the leftover dishes effectively. Too focused on completing your task, you fail to heed a certain someone approaching you from behind so stealthily. Just when you finish drying your hands, strong arms snake around your waist before he pulls you to him abruptly, your back hitting his chest.

Your heart palpitates at the sensation of his warm lips pressing into your skin before he leisurely litters soft kisses on the side of your neck. “Why do I feel like you’ve been trying to avoid me?” Heeseung murmurs in between kisses.

“I’m—” You pause, going slightly breathless when his lips on your neck feel sensual, causing your clit to throb familiarly while his arms locking around your waist feel as though you are trapped in his hold, unable to free yourself off him. “I’m not.”

Heeseung smirks against your skin, chuckling softly that sends shivers down your spine. “Who’s the bad liar now, baby?” He nips at your skin gently before pressing his hard-on into your buttcheeks, allowing you to feel his prominent bulge that has you whining softly.

“You’re so mean.” You mutter, but remain lax in his arms as you melt against him, enjoying the closeness more than you intended. “You’ve been teasing me since dinner.”

Heeseung stops assaulting your neck, making you frown at the loss of his addictive lips, only to be taken aback when he turns you around to face him. Your head spins at the escalation, and you barely have time to process when he lifts you by the waist and places you on the countertop. Before you can close your legs, he slots himself in between them, forcing your eyes to meet directly at his eye level.

“How exactly have I been teasing you?” He questions, raising his eyebrow attractively with his dark eyes penetrating into yours that you can’t help but to look away, unable to handle his oozing dominance that he imposes on you. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

You whimper, forcing yourself to look at him again and heeding the natural instinct of being submissive to him. He leans into you, his hand placed on the counter right next to you while the other gravitates to your chin to hold it firmly with the padding of his thumb stroking your bottom lip sensually. You part your lips while your eyelids go hooded, feeling breathless at the lack of space between your bodies.

A soft smirk unfurls on his lips, his dark eyes drinking in your every nuance as he is more than aware of how much he is affecting you. “I asked you a question, baby.” His tone sounds deceptively mellow, and you fight off the urge to arch your back needily. “How has daddy been teasing you?”

Oh, fuck me. “You were teasing me with your hand on my thigh throughout dinner.” You tell him in a soft whine, your eyes glistening with unshed tears that derive from your unbearable neediness. “It was mean, daddy. You were mean.”

Heeseung clenches his jaw, biting back a groan at how sensually needy you are with your glossy eyes giving him the ‘fuck me’ look, similar to the way you looked just a few nights ago during your video call. “You have to elaborate, sweetheart. Why do you think that was mean?” He hums, his hand travelling to your waist to hold you.

“Because it got me so wet.” You confess in a whimper, watching as his eyes darken at your words. You have no idea what comes over you, but you dart your tongue out and lick the padding of his thumb before biting it down sensually, noticing how primal he looks while his hand on your waist tightens. “Wanted daddy to finger me back there.”

Heeseung doesn’t hold back a lustful groan, shocking you by how gravelly deep his timbre sounds. His thumb falls from your lips, drawing a disappointed whimper from you, only for him to pull you by the waist roughly until your core is being pressed into his bulge that you swear you can feel it growing bigger.

Before you can utter anything, Heeseung presses his lips into yours, kissing you hard while you grind your clothed cunt against his hardened bulge. His hands fall to your hips that are moving sensually under his touch, eliciting a groan from him before he deepens the kiss, pouring his desire and love for you in the way his lips move against yours with urgent passion. Your hands go winding in his hair, tugging at the strands that send him a pleasurable sensation. 

“Can’t believe how needy you are for daddy. So fucking needy.” He grunts in between the kisses, getting sensitive with each hard stroke of your clothed cunt on his cock that is raging beneath the slacks. His hand moves to your round bum, giving it a tight squeeze that has you moaning into the kiss. “Getting wet just by daddy’s touch.”

“It’s been too long, daddy.” You mutter against his hungry lips as you arch your body into him, your tits pressing into his chest. “I missed you so much.” You whimper, holding him close to you with his body warmth engulfing you.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” He utters against your parted lips, allowing you to gasp for air from the intensity of his kisses. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, a juxtaposition to how he was kissing you hungrily. He marvels at your beauty, your lips being nearly swollen and your pretty eyes gazing at him with such desperation. “You’re so pretty, baby. Can’t believe I left my pretty baby all alone.”

Heeseung captures your lips again, swallowing your airy moans as you continue to grind on his bulge with an insatiable need. “I’m never leaving you alone again. Too fucking pretty to be left alone.” He growls in between kisses that resonate deep in your core, prompting your lips to part open for his tongue to invade your hot cavern, licking every inch and meeting your tongue in a dance of intoxicating sensuality.

You feel drunk, falling languid at his encompassing dominance over you, falling dumb despite his cock not being inside of you right now. All you know is the overwhelming desire to be consumed by his kisses, by him. The obscene sound of your lips smacking against each other’s, your tongues lapping each other wetly, the airy moans that escape you, and his very attractive grunts and groans amplify your need for him to take you right here and now despite his present teammates could literally walk in on you at any moment.

Heeseung slides his hands under your top, essentially lifting your top that reveals your skin. The warmth of his palms on your back sends shivers through you as he continues to travel upward, relishing the texture of your skin under his touch. Your clit is throbbing frenziedly as it is being pressured by his bulge pressing directly into it.

“I need more, daddy.” You manage to utter in between the kiss, mewling when he captures your lips in a bruising kiss that hurts so good, springing tears to your eyes. Your fingers find their way to his ears, caressing and fiddling with the metal piercings and loops adorned on his earlobes gently.

Heeseung pulls away from the kiss, rendering you turned on even more when the string of his saliva remains connected to your lips. He can’t resist the way you look, nearly ruined by his lips alone, and kisses you again, his tongue licking the residual of your saliva on your bottom lip before sinking his teeth into the pillowy plumpness.

You moan softly, enjoying the prickling pain of his teeth digging into your plump lip as he tugs and pulls it away just slightly, teasing you as more needy whines and mewls escape your parted lips before he leans forward and thrusts his tongue into your mouth, completely insatiable.

“Daddy will give you more soon, pretty baby.” He murmurs against your wet lips before pulling away to trail his hot, open mouth kisses down your neck. “Fuck, you smell so good.” He rasps against your neck, sending you shivers when the tip of his nose grazes tantalisingly on your skin. “Daddy just wants to eat you up.”

You whimper in response, your head lolling to the back, prompting you to bare your neck to his lips that proceed to litter his kisses and bites all over your skin. Sensing how weakened you are, his palm presses on your back under your top while the other cradles the back of your head, supporting your weakened body caused by his encompassing allure and not wanting you to pull a strained muscle from the way you continue to arch your whole body into him.

Your eyelids flutter closed with mewls and soft moans leaving your lips that go straight to his raging cock as he occasionally grinds into your aching core that has you spreading your legs further apart. The sensation of his lips kissing and sucking your skin, his teeth grazing and biting down on your skin to leave a mark, has your head dizzying while you can feel your pussy now soaking with your arousal. 

But you are immediately pulled out of your lustful haze when you spot Sunghoon entering the kitchen as he makes his way to the fridge, not even sparing a glance at the two of you. Getting self-conscious, you attempt to push Heeseung by the shoulders, but he continues to assault your neck, the explicit sound being patent enough that no doubt reaches Sunghoon’s ears.

“H-Heeseung—” You whisper, attempting to push him by the shoulders again, but you receive a disapproving grunt from him before he sinks his teeth into your skin for good measure, eliciting an involuntary mewl from you. You swear you can see how Sunghoon bristles by the sound of yours just as he retrieves a bottle from the fridge.

“Hee, we should stop.” You whisper weakly, only to be silenced by his lips as he kisses you hard, uncaring that his teammate remains lingering in the kitchen as he drinks his water leisurely, or rather, teammates.

“Mine.” Heeseung grunts against your lips, his voice resounding enough that it reaches their ears as they note the unmistakable claim over you in his dark undertone while you remain oblivious to the tension that brews between him and them once more. “All fucking mine, pretty baby.”

“Yours.” You mewl into the kiss, nearly surrendering yourself to his strong allure once more until you are alarmed by a cough, prompting you to pry away from his insatiable lips successfully this time.

You turn your head to the side, feeling dreadful that the three of them are now present in the kitchen. Their demeanour differs from each other — Sunghoon being nonchalant as if he didn't walk in on your heated make-out session, Jay with an unreadable expression on his face as he leans sideways against the wall by the kitchen entryway, Jake with a wolfish grin as though he has been watching from the start. Yet, you don’t miss the way their eyes collectively fall to your swollen, parted lips as you gasp softly for air, and you finally gain full awareness of how your lower body is still being exposed to their eyes by Heeseung’s hands underneath your top.

You try to pull down your top, but his hands remain obstinate, displaying more than a sliver of your skin to his teammates on purpose for reasons beyond your comprehension. You look at Heeseung with diffidence cloaking you, earning you a smirk from him before he leans in to kiss you sensually in front of them.

“You might want to consider taking it to Jake’s room.” Jay speaks up, his tone is anything but friendly, which brings a sense of dread to you as you break the lip lock. “No one wants to see you fucking her in the kitchen.”

“Not my fucking room.” Jake scoffs at Jay in disbelief, but when his eyes flicker to yours, they darken with mischief and an unmistakable lust that sends you a wave of mixed emotions, above all, pure confusion, but maybe you are mistaken. “Oh, don’t stop on our account. We were quite enjoying the free show you put on for us.” 

Your face flushes warmly with sheer embarrassment as you quickly look away to focus on your lover, only to be baffled at how Heeseung seems unbothered by the fact that his teammates had been watching the two of you being erotically intimate once more. 

“Enough with the teasing. You’re making my girl feel flustered.” Heeseung tells them without tearing his gaze off your shyness as you look down at your hands. You slowly lift your head up when he gently grabs your hand, his features now softening with the familiar affection. “Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

Your heart warms at the word ‘home,’ but you can’t bring yourself to lift a smile on your lips as your arousal remains pooling in your core from the aftermath of your heated session that was unfortunately interfered with by them. You frown, feeling a bitter resentment in your chest, not satisfied by their interruption even as Heeseung now pulls you with him towards the door.

If Heeseung has noticed how sullen you have become ever since you left their dorm, then he is surely good at feigning indifference, now seated in the passenger seat of your car, whereas you control the wheel and the other functions methodically, driving to your shared apartment with him, but also feeling rather uncomfortable by the slick of arousal staining your pussy folds that you can feel sticking to your panties.

You look at him from the corner of your eye, noticing his collected demeanour, completely different compared to the raw hunger contorting in his features earlier in the kitchen. You grip the steering wheel tight, suppressing the incessant need that is throbbing in your core.

“You were being different earlier.” You speak up, wanting to abate the tension only you can feel, but your tone remains soft, an addicting velvet stroking in his ears. Of course, you decide to bring up the topic that has been lingering in the back of your mind — how oddly possessive he was in front of his own teammates, who are more than aware that you are off-limits.

“How so?” Heeseung asks, and you can’t help but notice how disingenuous he sounds, as though he knows it himself and the ulterior motives he had up his sleeves earlier.

“I just felt that you were being weirdly possessive in front of them.” You mutter, speaking tentatively as if you fear that he might feel offended by your words. You see the way he is looking at you with an unreadable expression. You sigh softly. “What I’m also trying to say is that you have never done anything like that in front of them, Heeseung. Kisses and hugs, yes, but never anything like that.”

You steer the wheel, now entering the parking lot basement where your apartment is situated above it. You receive brief silence from him, leaving you to wonder what goes on in his head. “I’m sorry if my words offended you. I just want to know why—”

“I couldn’t help it. I had to show them, let them know that you’re off limits.” He interjects, his tone remaining mellow but sharp enough for you to note the dark undertone of his jealousy. “I had to remind them that you’re mine.”

Your pussy flutters on instinct, to which you cough lightly as you quickly try to find an empty lot to park your car. “I don’t understand. I’m clearly taken by you, and I thought they knew and respected that.”

You hear him sighing deeply. “They knew what happened two nights ago, when we were on a video call.” He finally reveals the truth, causing you to nearly falter just when you are about to do a reverse parking. “They heard us. They heard you.”

“Oh.” You can only utter, feeling numb by the whirlwind of complicated emotions within you. You don’t even know what to feel — dread? horrified? embarrassed? You look over to Heeseung briefly, who is studying your face carefully, before you skilfully do a reverse parking. “How did they know? I thought you had the room all to yourself?”

“Apparently, the walls were thin, and the room I got had a door that led directly into their room. They were sharing a room while I got a whole room to myself.” He explains, his fingers brushing through his hair in frustration. “I accidentally left the door ajar, and the volume was loud enough for them to hear you.”

“So you’re upset that they heard me, I get that.” You say softly, your hand reaching for his and holding it tenderly while he seeks comfort in your touch. “But I don’t understand why you’re being all jealous. It’s not like they saw me.”

“Didn’t you notice the way they looked at you? They looked like they wanted you, and they were basically eye-fucking you.” He counters with a certain bite in his tone, making you falter as you slowly retract your hand from his, but he is quick enough to grasp your sensitivity as he grabs your hand. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He sighs before placing a kiss on the back of your hand. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“It’s okay.” You reassure him softly, your eyes meeting his, and for the first time, you see how insecurity swirls in his irises. A frown pulls at your lips. “You know that I would never leave you for anyone, Hee.”

“I know, baby.” He murmurs against your skin, continuing to kiss the back of your hand, which makes your heart flutter greatly. “I’m just being stupid, letting my emotions get ahead of me.”

“No, you’re not. I would be the same way if I were in your shoes.” You tell him firmly but soften again when his Bambi eyes meet yours. “I love you, Lee Heeseung. My heart belongs to you, and only you.”

“Damn right, you do.” He smirks softly, his usual confidence returning to his once-disheartened spirit. He presses another kiss to your hand. “You’re mine, and mine alone, sweetheart.” And you would love nothing more than to be his forever, to be claimed by him over and over again.

It isn’t long until you finally settle in your shared apartment, waiting for your lover, who is brushing his teeth in the bathroom while you lie on the queen-sized bed. A part of you feels keenly anticipatory for him to continue where you left off, but when he joins you in the bed, you turn pouty as you observe how sleep is taking over him quickly, his features going soft and his muscles relaxing.

You can feel your neglected pussy weeping for attention from him, but nevertheless, you proceed to spoon him, your arms cradling around him while he buries his head into your chest with his hands underneath your nightgown to feel your warmth. 

Still, sleep does not come easy the way it does with your lover, your mind reeling from the heated session that happened earlier.

Despite experiencing some difficulty lulling yourself to sleep, you surely did sleep well enough to the point that you couldn’t even feel your lover disappearing from your arms, and for the first time, instead of worrying whether or not you are late for work, you find yourself stricken by a dreadful fear when you wake up to an empty space next to you, as though he doesn’t exist.

The whirlwind of emotions manifests in the unsteady rise and fall in your chest, and your mind is in a disarray of chaos, rendering you incapable of grasping little of the sanity left in you. Your breaths are coming out short and breathless while your chest tightens painfully from a profound anxiety. 

Tears prick in your eyes. Maybe you are being melodramatic, but you fear that whatever happened last night was your imagination and that your boyfriend is still having a tour in another country, miles apart from you. Or maybe he left you to fulfil his duty again.

Without thinking twice, you wrench the duvet from covering your legs and abandon the bed before bolting for the door and swinging it open, completely blinded by the intensity of your emotions going haywire while you feel an incoming downpour of your emotions within you.

“Hee?!” You call for him, your tone lacing with such desperation and your eyes darting everywhere as you search for him in any room, any corner. You choke back a sob as you stumble into the empty living room. “Heeseung!”

“Sweetheart?”

You have never turned around to the sound of his voice as fast as you do now, your frantic eyes meeting his sweet ones as they scan your distressed countenance, bordering on hysteria. At once, a wave of assurance washes over you, allaying your frazzled emotions, but there is a niggling fear at the back of your mind that makes you doubt whether or not your boyfriend is indeed real.

Heeseung, who has been observing you worriedly despite the confusion, takes quick strides forward, gravitating towards you as the pain contorting in your face alarms him. “Hey, hey, I’m here.” His mellow voice is carefully measured.

Shaky breaths leave your quivering lips, your chest tightening painfully with anxiety. “Oh my God, I thought that you—“ You feel out of breath, as though something is wrapped around your throat, constricting you from articulating your tangled emotions.

Heeseung places both hands on your shoulders, his warmth compelling you to meet his firm yet encouraging eyes. “I need you to breathe for me, baby.” He instructs, and you do so, trying your best to regulate your emotions that have been reigning over your breathing pace while your eyes never leave his.

Once you feel calm enough to be coherent, you finally allow the tears to spring up in your eyes, your vision blurring with each blink. “I thought you left me again.” You reveal your worst nightmare to him, your voice breaking as you lack the resolve to remain strong in his eyes. “I thought last night was a dream.”

You must sound stupid, acting as if you’re a child who had just woken up from a terrible nightmare, but you fear the possibility of him leaving you. Not only the thought of him leaving you for work abroad dreads you, but also the fact that he’s a popular rising star with many golden opportunities being offered to him, including being surrounded by very attractive people, and you fear him losing interest in you since compared to his idol-like peers, you are just an ordinary woman and have nothing special to offer him. 

Insecurity begins to creep up on you, but it vanishes as soon as Heeseung cradles your face tenderly with the warmth of his palms, offering you a familiar comfort. “I’m here, baby. I’m right here, and I’m very much real.” He says so gently that it brings out a sob from you.

Alas, the tears cascade down your face like a waterfall despite trying to hold yourself back from breaking down in front of him for the second time. You try to pull away from him, not wanting him to look at your pathetic state, but he remains unyielding before embracing you with his arms and tucking your head in the nook of his neck.

Just like that, you melt against him, leaning dependently into him as you continue to pour out the emotions that imploded within you. “I’m sorry.” You manage to utter in between sobs as you hug him tighter, needing to feel his warmth deeper to ground yourself in the moment and know that he is real.

“You have nothing to apologise for, remember?” He reminds you gently as he coaxes you with his hand cradling the back of your head and his fingers massaging your scalp affectionately. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

Instead of responding, you continue to weep, prompting him to embrace you tighter while kissing your crown and whispering sweet words to you. Eventually, your cries dwindle with hiccups occasionally leaving your lips, eliciting an inaudible whine of embarrassment from you as you bury your face into his shoulder.

Heeseung finds himself lifting a smile at how adorable you actually are despite the immense guilt tugging at his heartstrings. Seeing how you easily break down due to finding him missing from the bed, it worries him to a higher degree now as your attachment to him goes deeper than he thought, and he wonders how you would handle his absence the next time. Still, he is determined to figure things out on his end that may or may not involve the management for the sake of you.

“I gave you quite a scare, didn’t I? I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He says softly in your ear, receiving a feeble head nod from you before he plants a kiss on your temple. “I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed, but since you’re awake now, I guess I’ll have to surprise you some other time.”

Your ears perk up at his words, and you slowly pull your head away from his shoulder to look at him. “Since when do you do the cooking?” You ask, sniffling as you do so, earning a smile of adoration from him.

“Since I decided that I want to provide for my girl more often now.” He confesses as he cups your cheek while the other remains embracing you, his thumb wiping the tears on your cheeks tenderly. “You’re good?”

You hum in response, but you briefly look away from him when you are hit by the waves of embarrassment over the fact that you broke down again for something that is actually trivial in the others’ eyes. “This is embarrassing. And I still look like a mess.” You mutter as you are more than aware of your probably rumpled morning hair and how you can feel the puffiness on your face from all the crying.

“Nonsense. All I see right now is my beautiful girl.” Heeseung, being the ever-so-flatterer, and yet the genuine sincerity in his remark awakens butterflies in your tummy. Above all, you feel more than grateful that he doesn’t seem the slightest bit annoyed by your breaking down, and instead, he continues to provide you comfort as he holds you in his arms.

“I want to take a shower.” You tell him meekly, your fingers fiddling together as you look at him tentatively. Compared to his fresh appearance, you look like a damn mess, and you feel kind of icky.

“Go ahead. I’ll set up the table for us.” He places an affectionate kiss on your forehead, a gesture that feels more intimate than a kiss on the lips, intensifying the flutters inside you.

You hold back a whimper at the loss of his warmth and touch as he parts from you. You remain glued to the floor, your eyes watching his broad figure retreating into the kitchen, but he stops midway as he senses your presence behind. He turns around with an inquisitive eyebrow raised. “Baby?”

You probably look like an idiot standing there with your puffy eyes gazing at him, but you feel the need to blurt out, “I love you, Heeseung.”

Unbeknownst to you, your declaration sends a wave of emotions over him despite his collected demeanour. Sometimes, he feels like he is undeserving of your love, how good you always are to him, and how many times he has taken you for granted, be it intentionally or unintentionally. He hides his pain behind a warm smile. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

Soon enough, time passes by like a blur as you eventually step out of the bedroom, all freshened up with dampened hair. You decide to settle with a simple white tank top and a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low below your waistline, allowing a sliver of skin that teases him.

As soon as you enter the kitchen, his eyes immediately latch on to your gorgeous figure, and he nearly chokes on his saliva at the irresistible allure emanating from you. Gorgeous is not even enough to describe you right now, because fuck, how can you pull off such a simple, homey look that strongly tempts him to pounce on you like an untamed animal.

His eyes shamelessly scan your every contour while you remain oblivious to his hunger, your attention being fixated on the food meticulously displayed on the island. The white tank top reveals your skin rather generously, particularly your luscious cleavage that makes his mouth water, and he instantly gets hard at the visual of his marks on your delicate skin in his head.

“Hey, beautiful.” He greets you, his voice cracking at the end, to which he quickly covers up with a cough. You beam with a small smile in response, easing the remnants of his worries for you as you look better than earlier. “Feel better now?”

You nod your head shyly, and it takes every strength in him to resist smooching you relentlessly with his kisses. “Thank you for making breakfast. You didn’t have to.” You utter your gratitude softly, your lips jutting into a pout as the guilt dawns on you. “You just came back from the tour, and you’re already tiring yourself out more by doing this.”

“I’m never tired when it comes to you, sweetheart.” He charms you with a boyish grin that displays his perfect pearly teeth. “Besides, seeing your beautiful face is enough to energise me.”

Your heart pounds harder, and the butterflies in your tummy are impossible to tame at the effect of his charms that are working more than effectively. “Gosh, you’re being cheesy again.” You huff, feigning annoyance, but your cheeks feel warmer in the way he gazes at you lovingly.

Heeseung shrugs his shoulders, feigning indifference. “It’s the effect of being in love with my girlfriend, I guess.” He says in a very attractive drawl, his lips curving into a smirk as he is very much amused at how easily flustered you are.

You roll your eyes at him, but your lips twitch into an involuntary smile. “You’re incorrigible.”

The smirk on his lips is replaced by a wide-stretched grin. “But you love me anyway.”

“That, I do.” You say, finding yourself softened up again as you gaze at him with unadulterated adoration. “I love you, Hee.”

The way you gaze at him feels as though he is your whole world, and it doesn't help with his emotions that are in disarray, torn between wanting to kiss the fuck out of you or simply make love to you. “Don’t look at me like that, baby.” 

You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, and he swears he can hear his cock groaning beneath his briefs. “Like what?”

“Come here, you.” He grunts, taking long strides forward before he grabs you by the waist and pulls you to him, his fingers tingling from making contact with your skin. His other hand goes cradling your face, tilting your head up until his nose brushes lightly against yours. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Your soft chuckles sound melodious to his ears. “And you’re so handsome.” You purr, smiling lazily as though you are drunk on whatever spell he is casting on you. Your eyes drink in his every feature, marvelling at how he has been perfectly sculpted. Your finger absentmindedly traces along his jawline, sending shivers through him. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”

He so badly wants to hear those words from you again, needing you to claim what is rightfully yours. “That’s right, pretty baby. I’m yours.” His voice is a low rumble that resonates deep in your core, and you recognise the familiar possessiveness glinting in his eye.

You smile at him before tilting your head to a perfect angle and pressing your lips into his, kissing him sweetly while he eagerly reciprocates. The kiss starts off soft and slow, your lips moving in perfect tandem, but eventually, a familiar hunger rouses within you as you deepen the kiss with your hands sliding underneath his black top, feeling up the prominent ridges of his abdominal muscles as they faintly flex beneath your touch.

Heeseung can feel his cock hardening with each passing second, and it feels nearly impossible to resist your allure that calls for him as you continue to ravage him with your lips and hands. He groans against your lips when you teasingly slide your fingers under the waistband of his briefs, moving lower and lower.

Heeseung forces himself to pull away from your addicting lips, his breathing ragged due to suppressing his own desires. “We should stop, sweetheart, or else I might get tempted to take you right here and now.” He tells you honestly, but his tone carries an underlying warning that tempts you to go against it.

“I wouldn’t mind that.” You counter cheekily, gazing at him sensually as you slowly turn around, only for a startled squeal to leave your lips when he slaps your ass with a resounding smack. “Heeseung! That hurts.” You tell him, pouting your lips as you rub the spot where he smacked you.

“Eat, or you’ll get more spanking.” He says firmly, his tone and his eyes feel intimidating enough for you to rethink your choices just when the second option resonates with you more.

“Fine, daddy.” You decide to be mischievously petulant, huffing and showing him attitude as you walk away from him with a purposeful sway of your hips, feeling his eyes fixated on you.

His eyes watching you with dark intent, groaning quietly as his cock gets excited at the mere word of ‘daddy’ leaving your kissable lips. He sighs softly and shakes his head. By you, he is forever undone.

“So, what is your schedule for today?” You ask as you settle across from him on the island, seated on the high stool. You preen when he pours the syrup on your French toast but instantly falters when you realise that he might head over to the company after this. “Do you have anything on at work?”

“I’m free for today, and I might also be free for a whole week.” He informs, chuckling softly as he sees the way your eyes light up like fireworks. “So I’m all yours, sweetheart.”

“Really?” You ask again, receiving a confirmation from him as he nods his head. An idea pops into your mind, an idea that is definitely more than suggestive. A sly smile spreads across your lips. “So we can do whatever we want?”

The familiar hunger and lust swirling in your irises is not lost on him as he smirks lightly, feeling greatly amused at how awfully needy you are, but it won’t hurt for him to tease and edge you for a little longer. “Whatever my gorgeous girl wants.”

It isn’t that you are being ungrateful for the opportunity that was given to you that allows you to spend more time with your lover. Sure, the day is spent with cosy domesticity — heading over to the supermarket to buy some groceries, baking brownies together, and he even entertained you by joining you to colour your colouring book. But something is missing, and you know that it has to do with the fact that he is playing dumb to your overt display of need.

Oh, you know that he’s teasing you, edging you. You tried to seduce him under such pretences, hoping that he would get the damn hint that you wanted him to fuck you, but he didn’t indulge you, simply overlooking your patent desire and being nonchalant about it. You even enticed him with the way your hands roamed around his muscles and how you poured your need into the kisses you shared with him in between those moments. Yet, he never went beyond those kisses and touches, impressively enough, because you know that your boyfriend has an interesting level of libido.

It is more than obvious that he’s playing around at something with you, and it’s fucking infuriating because you need him after he left you high and dry last night, after being apart from him for more than a week. Hence, you remain pouting with your arms folded below your chest, curling yourself in the corner of the sofa, and being all sulky towards your boyfriend, who is comfortably settled just a few spaces away from you.

Little do you know that Heeseung has been taking great delight in the way you are getting antsy and restless, completely deprived of the type of intimacy you desperately crave. Still, he knows that he eventually needs to give in to the pity since his girl can get quite sensitive, even if it’s merely a harmless teasing.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, finally breaking the ice that formed ever since you turned sullen. He looks away from the animated television, his eyes settling on your face.

You want to ignore him, but one look at his handsome face is enough for your resolve to crumble. “I’m bored, and this show is boring me.” You tell him in a grumble, and technically, it isn’t entirely a lie, but there is no way you would let him know the exact truth. “Can we do something else?” Your eyes sparkle with hope as you look at him.

“What exactly do you want to do?” He asks slyly, wearing a mask of genuine curiosity that elicits a disbelieving scoff from you.

You narrow your eyes at him in suspicion at the way he bats his eyes at you innocently. “You know what, Hee.” You deadpan, running out of patience.

His mask fades at the moment a smirk unfurls on his lips. “I really have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” He drawls, and that’s all it takes for you to crawl towards him, his eyes darting down at the teasing visual of your luscious cleavage.

You lack any shame as you throw your folded leg on the other side of his thigh, now straddling him with your hands gripping his shoulders. “Heeseung, please.” You whine softly, your bravado slipping and revealing unadulterated neediness, and yet he can see how shy you are with your face flushing with diffidence.

Heeseung is enjoying this view more than he intended, his eyes practically fucking you, which makes your pussy flutter and your clit throb, impelling you to grind on him slowly. “Use your big girl words, baby.” He demands huskily, fighting off the urge to touch any part of your curves as his hands remain lax to his sides.

“I want daddy to fuck me with his cock. I need daddy to fulfil his promises to me from two nights ago.” You keen as you continue to hump on his very prominent bulge that you can distinctly feel the shape protruding in his sweatpants. You return your needy gaze to him, tears glistening in your eyes that he can’t help but soften at. “I missed daddy so much.”

“I know, baby.” He says so gently, but the intensity of his primal hunger that shadows his countenance remains unyielding. He finally caves in as he reaches for your face, his thumb stroking your cheek affectionately. “My pretty baby has been feeling lonely for more than a week.”

“Want daddy to be close to me.” You sob softly, your eyes remain glistening with unshed tears as you allow your emotions to take over you, which has you faltering in your momentum of humping on him. “Want you to never let go of me.”

“Daddy’s here, baby. I’m here.” He reassures you in a soft lull, now leaning his body slightly forward with one hand pressing on your back to prevent you from falling backward while the other remains stroking your cheek as he continues to whisper sweet, assuring words that elicit a mewl from you. “You won’t feel lonely anymore.”

Soon enough, you become distracted by the intimate contact between your warm bodies and how mesmerised you are by his handsomeness up close, your eyes gazing at him with both desire and adoration before you slowly find yourself grinding your clothed cunt into his hardened bulge that feels rock solid.

“That’s it, pretty baby. Grind on my cock just like that.” He whispers amorously, his dark eyes drinking in your delicate features that slowly contort into pleasure as your clit begins to feel stimulated. His eyes fall to your luscious lips that go parted with whines and silent moans. “Wanna give daddy a kiss?”

You nod your head feebly before leaning in with your head tilted to an angle for your lips to mould perfectly with his. He kisses you softly and delicately, as if you are made out of glass, a juxtaposition to the way his hips buck up to meet your every move as you grind on him with such desperation.

But your hunger for your lover is insatiable, propelling you to deepen the kiss as you press your lips into his hard while your hips stutter against him, losing the momentum as you lose yourself in the passion of your shared kisses, your hands cupping his cheeks while his arms lock around your waist.

“You don’t have to rush, baby. We can take our time.” He manages to mumble in between the kisses, and you force yourself to control your insatiable need, whimpering against his parted lips when his hands grip your hips to guide your movements. “Nice and slow, just as daddy likes it.”

Heeseung is completely enamoured by you and the sheer pleasure contorting in your face, your lips going parted with a dulcet tone of your needy whines and airy moans while you arch your body into him as you rock against him. His eyes fall to your exposed chest that your tank top can barely cover up, compelling him to pepper feathery kisses on the expanse of your chest.

Your head is going delirious just by grinding on his cock alone, going back and forth in a continuous motion that rouses your cunt to sensitivity, allowing you to distinctly feel the shape and girth of his cock hidden under the material of his sweatpants. 

“You feel so big.” You moan out softly in his ear, your breath tickling his earlobe while the sound alone is enough for him to cease his feathery assault on your chest. “Can’t wait for daddy to fuck me and be mean to me.”

Heeseung groans lowly at the lewd words coming out of your pretty mouth, his hands on your hips tightening from the sheer restraint of the ravenous beast within him. “My pretty baby is so fucking desperate, yeah?” He rasps against the column of your throat before nipping at it with his teeth.

You whimper at the prickling sensation of his teeth sinking into your delicate skin, but it only impels you to rock against him harder. “Only for you, daddy.” You whisper in his ear, such innocence in the way you speak but dripping with sensuality.

Something inside of him snaps, and all inhibitions are thrown out of the window, allowing his inner demons to consume you wholly now. “Fuck, come here.” He nearly growls out his words, shocking you at the gravelly timbre in his voice, barely giving you the time to process when he captures your lips in a searing kiss.

Heeseung kisses you roughly, even more so with an avid passion that intensifies the familiar heat in your core, drawing languid moans from you as you part your lips for him to thrust his tongue into you, exchanging saliva with you and licking every inch of your wet cavern. His hands manoeuvre underneath your tank top, feeling your skin underneath his touch before he deftly unclasps your strapless bra with one hand.

Heeseung masters such adroitness when he successfully removes your bra and tosses it aside without breaking the heated lip lock. A whine leaves you when he pulls away from your chasing lips; the string of saliva remaining connected between your lips and his is a testament to your co-equal desires.

Your cunt clenches as soon as he leans down and envelops your nipple with his lips, sucking on it despite the material of your tank top remaining a barrier. You arch your back at the sensational pleasure in your nipple as he continues to suck it while his other hand is occupied in palming your once-neglected tit.

“Hee—” You moan out, and you swear you are about to come undone just by getting your tits manipulated by his mouth and hand. You look down, only to feel more turned on at the sight of him now licking your nipple languidly, staining your tank top with his saliva before he bites it down gently and does the same to the other nipple. But you can’t take the unbearable heat in your core anymore. “I need you now.”

Heeseung decides to give in to your needy request as he catches on to the palpable tremor in your voice, but not before giving your perky nipple a hard lick with his tongue as well as squeezing your other tit for good measure.

“Hold on tight to me, baby.” He demands as his hand moves under your ass cheek to support you while you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He proceeds to rise from the sofa and makes his way to your shared bedroom, still carrying you with ease.

Lacking self-control, you decide to cave in to the temptation and press your lips into his skin, sending shivers down his spine at the sensation of your warm, wet lips. He clenches his jaw as you continue to distract him with kitten kisses all over his neck, knowing how sensitive he actually is, particularly when you lick his Adam's apple sensually.

“Fuck, sweetheart, if you keep doing that—” He groans deeply when you nip at his Adam’s apple hard, his cock twitching because of it. He squeezes your ass tight while his steps become disconcertingly stringent. “You’re so gonna get it.”

You continue to lick and kiss his neck, even as he finally enters your shared bedroom. He stops by the vanity table to retrieve something he had prepared earlier without your knowledge while the other hand continues to carry you with ease before taking long strides to your bed.

In a blink of an eye, Heeseung manoeuvres you to the bed, your back hitting the mattress that springs up and down from the impact, but you quickly recover as you raise your upper body with the support of your elbows pressing down on the bedding. Your eyes feast shamelessly on how attractive he looks in a simple black top with the silver necklace adding to his allure, and his bulge is prominent against his sweatpants, but what highly intrigues you is the pink silk restraints in his grasp. 

You meet his eyes, only to bite down your lip in an attempt to suppress your arousal as you notice how pissed off he looks, reminding you of those concert clips of him that you practically get off to. You squeeze your thighs together.

“You naughty little minx.” His husky voice is laden with lust despite the anger dripping from his tone, and that alone excites you unlike any other. His dark eyes penetrate into you condescendingly. “Is this what you want? You really want daddy to be pissed off at you so he could teach you a lesson?”

“Want it so much.” You purr, arching your back purposely to make your perky nipples prominent against the thin material more than they already are while your gaze remains sultry. “Want daddy to fuck me mean.”

His dark eyes drink you greedily, how sinfully divine you look so pliant on the bed with your white tank top being wetly tainted by his saliva and how your nipples get perkier, your chest heaving up and down from the tension dawning in your bedroom. “Take off your top, baby.” He orders gruffly, taking steps forward towards you.

You do as he says so, raising your upper body to balance yourself as you remain in a sitting position before grabbing the hem of your top and pulling it over your head. The cool air immediately causes your nipples to harden.

Just as you toss aside your top, your heart lurches in your chest when he slams your body back onto the mattress, his fingers curling around your neck firmly while he has you pinned underneath him helplessly. You gasp softly from the sudden impact before flickering your eyes to his dark ones, rendering you awed and tense by the smouldering intensity in his eyes.

“What? Scared of daddy now?” He asks mockingly, his knee pressing into the mattress that is situated in between your legs, and it takes every strength for you to avoid grinding your clothed cunt on his thigh as you can feel him pressing into you.

“N-No.” You stutter, feeling both nervous and excited at the unknown of his plans as well as the unpredictability of his behaviour that you have always found incredibly hot.

He scoffs with the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk, and fuck, he’s so hot that it makes your pussy weep. “Daddy wants to do many things to you; you have no idea.” He says lowly, his fingers curling around your neck, loosening just a fraction. “But first, what’s the safe word, sweetheart?”

As much as he wants to ruin you till you’re a sobbing mess, he needs another reassurance from you, an additional consent sort of, as he worries that he might go too far on you. “Pink.” You tell him softly.

Heeseung scans your face, searching for any hesitation, but all he sees is the unadulterated need of your salacious craving for him, drawing a smirk on his lips. “You’ve done it, sweetheart. You get mean Heeseung now.”

You gasp into his mouth when he captures your lips in a breathtaking kiss, stealing your every breath, which leaves you panting into his mouth, but he uses the opportunity to thrust his tongue into you, licking and tasting you, never getting enough of you. Your hands fist at his shirt, panting and mewling against him, but he captures your hands and raises them above your head.

Heeseung bites down on your bottom lip so hard that you swear it is bruising enough to draw blood, eliciting a whimper from you, but you feel highly aroused at his roughness. He pulls away from your lips, allowing you to gasp for air. You attempt to gain control of your hands, but he grips them tight, prompting you to look at him with confusion, only to watch as he deftly binds your wrists together with the pink silk restraint.

Heeseung is unsparing as he proceeds to trace an ardent path with his lips on your skin, kissing you down your neck until he reaches the expanse of your bare chest. You whimper as he roughly palms your tits before taking one nipple in his hot mouth.

You moan at the wet sensation of his tongue swirling and licking your nipple before he does the same to the other nipple while multitasking in palming and squeezing the flesh of your tits. You grind your throbbing cunt on his thigh. “Nngh! Hee—“ Your lips part open in a silent scream at the stinging pain in your tit that is smacked by his palm.

“Fucking missed these tits. Made to be sucked.” He groans as he pushes your tits together hard with his thumbs pressing down on your nipples before sucking them again, loving how the pearls hardened in his mouth. Your cunt clenches uncontrollably at your tits getting manipulated by his relentless hands and mouth.

But he releases them, only to slap one tit as he watches it jiggle, eliciting a painful cry from you, but you arch your body with your tits pushed out. “You love getting your tits slapped? Nasty slut.” He does it again, each slap to your tits amplifying your pleasure and sensitivity that has you moving your hips to rub your clothed cunt on his thigh. “That turns you on, yeah?”

If anything, his degradation turns you on more than it should, finding it incredibly hot that your sweet, gentle boyfriend is uttering such degrading words to you and how there isn’t any usual gentleness in the way he torments you with pleasure right now. He slaps your tit hard once more, drawing a sob from you before he leans down to lick your abused nipples and peppers kisses on the spots where he slapped you.

By the time he’s done, your nipples are glistening with his saliva, a barrier that provides you warmth against the cold temperature of the room. He trails open-mouth kisses down the plane of your stomach with his fingers tucking underneath the waistband of your sweatpants before swiftly pulling it down, now revealing your baby pink underwear that bears a noticeable spot of your arousal.

“Dirty, naughty girl. Getting wet from getting your tits slapped and played with?” He teases you, causing your face to flush warmly. He proceeds to pull down your underwear, only to press it into his nose as he smells it. “Fuck, baby. You smell so good.” He nearly moans out his words while you are left flabbergasted.

“Heeseung!” You blurt out, feeling embarrassed that he continues to smell your stained underwear as though it is his salvation. At the exclamation of his name from you, he stops smelling your underwear and directs his glare to your face.

“Wrong.” He says coldly, and before you know it, your thigh stings painfully at the impact of his palm. You whine in response and try to close your legs, but he forcefully slots himself in between your legs and lands a smack on your other thigh, harder this time. “What should you address me as?”

You sob out softly, your eyes glistening with unshed tears that bring a smirk to his lips, because he’s not even done with you and yet you’re already on the verge of crying. “I’m sorry, daddy.” You whimper out your apology, earning yourself a kiss from him on your waxed mount.

Heeseung brings himself to the eye level of your pussy while his hands press on your inner thighs, forcing your legs to spread. “Daddy’s home, princess.” He coos, reminding you of the video call where he spoke to your pussy as if it were a person. Your breath hitches in your throat when he uses his fingers to spread your wet folds apart lewdly. “Look at you, princess. Already dripping wet because of me?”

You can feel your pussy preening under his attention and the way the padding of his fingers is stroking along your folds absentmindedly. “Missed you so fucking much, princess.” He places a wet kiss on your swollen clit that throbs intensely, prompting you to buck up your hips at the sensitivity. “Daddy thought of you every night, got me imagining how good you’d feel wrapped around my cock.”

A concoction of lust and yearning laces in his tone, and when you look down at him, his eyes are heavily fixated on your preening pussy before he leans in to place another sensual kiss on your clit. “Seungie—“ You clamp your lips shut as soon as his dark eyes flicker to yours with a disapproving glare.

He sighs against your pussy, his hot breath fanning on your folds. “But as much as daddy missed you, you need to be taught a lesson.” He brings his palm down to your pussy, tearing a cry from you at the painful impact, but he spares you no mercy as he does it again, causing your hips to buck up to meet his slaps instinctively despite the pain. “My princess has been missing so much that she easily gets wet even when daddy is slapping her.”

Another slap to your pussy sounds lewdly wet with your arousal as it echoes in your room, causing your hips to buck up again, and you lose track of how long he goes on until you can’t handle the fiery sensitivity. “Daddy, please.” You whimper, your lips quivering with need while a single tear rolls down your cheek.

This time, the padding of his fingers lands on your clit hard, eliciting another cry from you, but he leans down and silences you with a chaste kiss. “Shhh, shhh, baby.” He shushes you, his lips grazing your parted ones with his breath mingling with yours. He is being deceptively soft, his features softening as he gazes into your glossy eyes, but his fingers around your neck remain unabating. “Take what daddy gives you like a good fucking slut you are.”

You whimper as you bare your neck to him with your head tilted up, feeling the instinctive need to submit to him, which earns you a pleased smirk from him before you find yourself being rewarded with a rub on your clit, only for a moment until he lands a sharp slap on your pussy again. You hold back from letting out another cry as he does it again, his dark eyes locking with yours as though challenging you to look away. 

Tears accumulating in your waterline at how merciless your lover is being, giving you both pleasure and pain, but mostly denying you the pleasure. You give him a doe-eyed look that you know he would never be able to resist, and the effect seems to be working when he falters before wrapping it up with one hard smack to your pussy.

You release the waterfall as they flow freely, your eyelids fluttering close when he presses a kiss on your forehead, nearly purring at the affection. “There we go. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He says as you look at him, butterflies swarming in your tummy at the smirk on his handsome face. “Now daddy will reward his princess.”

Your heart races in anticipation when he brings his thumb to his tongue and licks it, his eyes never leaving yours as he does so, before finding your clit and rubbing it slowly yet effectively as you feel the bundle of nerves being stimulated. 

His dark eyes watch you intently in the way pleasure contorts in your features as you flutter your eyes closed with soft moans leaving your lips. “Daddy loves how sensitive you are just by getting your clit played.” He remarks, chuckling darkly as your hips begin to move back and forth sensually as though you are being fucked by his cock. “You’re that desperate, it’s so pathetic, princess.”

Heeseung knows that you revel in the degradation he bestows on you, and that itself makes him harder than he already was. “Feels good. Missed your fingers so much.” You utter breathlessly, feeling your abdomen flexing at the building pleasure.

“Princess wants my fingers in her?” He hums, his fingers sliding along your wet folds teasingly while his question earns a needy whine from you.

Before you know it, his two long fingers slide into your wet hole, relentlessly plunging deeper, which has you gasping brokenly at the resistance of your walls being stretched just by his fingers alone, and yet you need his fingers to boost your pleasure to a higher degree.

“More.” You tell him needily as he begins to fuck your tight hole with his fingers, delving rhythmically without losing momentum in the way he rubs your clit unrelentingly. “Please, daddy. I need more.” 

He lets out a condescending scoff, his eyes leering at you. “Greedy baby. I never taught you to be greedy.” He admonishes, but he increases the intensity in his deft fingers, fucking you to the point you can hear your own wetness that sounds obnoxious. “I’ll give you more, alright. I’ll fucking ruin your pretty pussy. Wanna see if I can make you squirt.”

You are not confident that you can since you have never squirted before, but with the way his fingers are fucking into you skilfully while each thrust hits harder than the previous, maybe you might be proven wrong. You close your eyes, nearly choking when he squeezes your neck while your hips meet every thrust avidly. You can feel the knot in your tummy forming tighter and tighter while something feels different this time.

“Right there!” You moan out as soon as his fingers hit that spot before he curls them, drawing out something more impactful from you as he becomes dangerously relentless. Your arms twitch while your hips stutter midway from meeting his thrust, feeling the inevitable release. “Daddy—”

“Come on, squirt for me, princess. Make a fucking mess over my fingers.” He grits his teeth, sheer determination painting his handsome face as he drives you closer to the edge of pleasure that feels intense, and before you know it, the knot in your tummy unravels as you explode with clear fluid gushing out of your cunt while your thighs quiver.

Though you have come undone, he doesn’t stop thrusting his fingers into you, overstimulating your every sense that has you whimpering for reprieve, only to earn a wet slap on your pussy that makes your hips twitch from the impact. You try to close your legs, unable to handle the sensitivity as he rubs your clit with maddening precision, but he smacks you in the ass.

“Who said you could close your legs?” He nearly growls out, now positioning himself where he is on the same eye level as the explicit view of your pussy. His arms go hooking around your thighs, preventing you from closing your legs again. “Daddy hasn't even gotten a taste of his slutty princess yet.”

You open your mouth to retort, but a breathy moan comes out instead when his tongue licks a broad stripe of your pussy. He presses his tongue into your clit, feeling it throb faintly before licking it like it’s a lollipop. He stops and rears back, only to spit out a glob of his saliva as it lands on your clit, causing you to roll your eyes in sheer pleasure. You arch your back, moaning as his tongue goes lathering his saliva on your clit messily before skilfully stimulating it.

“Princess tastes so fucking delicious. I could never get enough of you.” He mumbles against your pussy, nearly moaning out at the taste of you, before flattening his tongue to drag it in an up-and-down motion in between your wet folds while the tip of his nose hits your clit that is aching tremendously. “Been hungry for this sweet pussy for too long..”

You want to grab onto his hair, but the restraint binding your wrists is a hindrance. You feel his long tongue now fucking into your wet hole, moaning at the taste of you while it sends a vibration through your sensitive cunt. Your body writhes under his firm hold as he eats you out vigorously like a madman, and your abdomen trembles with the familiar knot coiling tighter. 

“Daddy, please! I can’t!” You sob out, lacking the endurance of your sensitivity as tears spring in your eyes, but he continues to eat you out, his tongue delving deeper that allows you to feel the wet muscle grazing your walls.

You can only produce pleasurable moans and whines of protest as you struggle in his vice-like grip. He must’ve felt bad hearing the occasional sobs leaving your lips as his hand finds home to your tit, palming it softly and twiddling with your nipple, but the action only intensifies your pleasure.

“Give me one more, baby.” He speaks to you from below, his voice sounding attractively husky before his tongue goes attached to your budding clit while his fingers plunge into your sopping cunt.

The dual sensation overstimulates you unlike anything else, eliciting higher-pitched moans from you as you arch your back in pure ecstasy while your thighs quiver from the sensitivity. Your lower abdomen feels tight with tension, and you know it won’t be long till you come undone again. With a hard flick of his tongue on your clit, your body convulses as your orgasm comes crashing down on you like tidal waves.

“Heeseung—” You utter his name weakly as he laps up your nectar with his tongue before finding strength to correct yourself again. “Daddy, I need a break, please.” Your voice trembles the same way your thighs do, shivering when his tongue licks a long stripe along your soaked pussy.

Heeseung finally halts before hovering on top of you with his eyes darkening with something predatory. He grips your chin firmly while his thumb presses down on your bottom lip, forcing you to open your mouth, and you do so without question, only to be highly aroused when he spits a glob of his saliva and your cum into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself.

A crazed lust glints in his eyes as he watches you swallow with delight, finishing it off with a moan before he smashes his lips into yours in a frenzied hunger, kissing you messily that involves tongues and teeth clashing, nothing like the way your kisses with him were.

Heeseung breaks the messy lip lock and leans his forehead against yours, breathing heavily while his eyes search for yours, seeing how adorably dazed you are. “Hope you’re still with me, baby. Daddy needs your mouth to satisfy his cock.”

You know that your oral fixation for his cock is avid when you find yourself salivating at the vivid image of his cock that you and your pussy have dearly missed. You watch as he leans away from you before grabbing you by the arm and pulling you up with ease. You attempt to make a move to get out of the bed, eager to kneel for him, but he stops you before your foot can touch the floor.

“No, baby. I won’t have you hurting yourself by kneeling for me on the floor.” He tells you firmly, and for a moment, confusion flickers in your gaze. “Just stay on the bed and sit on your knees.”

Your heart swells with love at his thoughtfulness amidst the prevalent lustful haze in the room. With your slightly aching thighs, you unsteadily change your position, but his hand remains gripping your arm firmly to support you. Once you are seated on your knees politely with your restrained wrists pressed to your chest, he releases you.

Realising that you are directly at the eye level of his cock, your face flushes warmly while you notice how his bulge becomes more prominent before slowly lifting your head to look at him. The fact that he is towering over you right now makes your pussy flutter, and it isn’t helping that he is smirking down at you while he lazily unties the string with one hand to loosen his sweatpants before pulling them down until they fall to the floor.

“Hope you’re hungry, baby, because daddy needs your mouth to take his cock for as long as he wants.” He says darkly, his hand pulling his grey boxers down until his cock manages to spring free, going completely erect as it is pointing towards you.

You nearly purr in satisfaction at the delicious visual of his cock that you had dreamed of on nights without him. He steps closer, enjoying the way your eyes are hungrily staring at his cock.

“Wanna be good for you, daddy.” You say softly, leaning into his touch as he cradles your face with his thumb stroking your cheek tenderly. His heart palpitates when you look up at him with the prettiest doe-eyed look on your face, such innocence despite kneeling for him in sheer nudity. “Wanna be your good girl.”

“You’re already my good girl, baby.” He hums softly, his other hand grabbing the base to guide it to your face, only for him to slap his heavy cock to the side of your face a few times that arouses you before teasing himself in the way he slides the swollen tip on your cheek while you wait in anticipation. He grabs your chin firmly. “Open your mouth for me, sweet girl.”

You open your mouth wide open, taking the initiative to stick your tongue out that allows him to slide his cock on your wet muscle back and forth, allowing you a taste of his arousal that leaks from the tip, before he slowly pushes his cock into your mouth. You envelop your lips around his girth and proceed to take him with your head bobbing while your tongue manipulates around his tip that feels engorged.

“Fuck, baby. You’re taking my cock good.” He moans breathily, feeling his pleasure mounting from your skilful mouth and tongue. His hand reaches for your hair and grabs it in a makeshift ponytail to assert control over you. “But need you to take daddy’s cock deeper.”

You nearly gag when he lodges his cock deeper until the head is pressed into the back of your throat, and you display your struggle as his girth constricts your airways, prompting you to nudge your bound wrists to his abdomen while your breathing goes erratic.

Heeseung tilts your head to meet your glossy eyes, his face remaining stringent, but there is a softness of concern in his eye. “Don’t panic. You’ll only make it worse. I need you to regulate your breathing for me. I know you can, baby.” He instructs, his tone encouraging enough for you to gain determination. “Breathe through your nose.”

You do so, now breathing normally through your nose while the panic in your chest dissipates. He slowly releases your hair, allowing you to set the pace as you proceed to fuck him with your hungry mouth. The salty taste of his arousal leaking from his tip makes you moan while he can feel the vibration of your muffled moan from the back of your throat, intensifying his sensitivity as he throws his head back, letting out a low, guttural moan that goes straight into your cunt.

“My eager cockslut.” His husky voice is laden with lust and a familiar derogatory that elicits a needy whine from you, but it is muffled by his cock that is lodged deeper in your throat. “You missed daddy’s cock so much, hm? Look at how eagerly you’re taking me with that slutty mouth.”

You hum in response, your eyes tearing up from the way his cock brutally breaches your throat that hurts so good. The sound is utterly lewd in the way you take the entirety of him into your mouth as it echoes off the walls of your shared bedroom while the corners of your lips are dripping with your drool.

You love the way his handsome face contorts into pure gratification with a moan leaving his lips when your tongue swirls and licks his engorging tip that you fear will explode. You daringly use your teeth to graze his thrusting cock, earning yourself a glaring hunger in his eyes when he looks down at you, but you know that he’s into it when he makes no remarks, only emitting attractive sounds of his groans and breathy moans.

Eventually, Heeseung reaches the heights of his pleasure, blood rushing and pumping in his cock while he is on the verge of release. He grabs your hair in a makeshift ponytail again, but this time, with roughness that elicits another moan from you despite the pain in your scalp. “I’m gonna come, baby, and you’re gonna swallow every drop like a good cockslut you are for me.”

You choke and gag on his cock, but he doesn’t spare you any concern as he gets lost in the sea of pleasure, using your mouth as his cocksleeve and driving himself to the edge of ecstasy. You can feel his rhythm going erratic and how his bulbous tip is practically pulsating on your tongue. In just a few seconds, he lodges his cock deeper in your throat and goes still as he releases viscous streams of his heavy, sticky release that you are forced to swallow.

“That’s a good girl, taking every drop.” He praises you in a low rumble that has you preening before you eagerly swallow for more with your tongue circling around his girth, your mouth now painted white with his cum.

Heeseung finally pulls his cock from your mouth, allowing you to gasp for air while your jaw aches from the exertion. He grabs you by the chin firmly, asserting dominance again that has you meeting his eyes in pure submission. “Stick your tongue out for me, baby. Let daddy see the mess he made in your mouth.”

Your cunt clenches at his words while you stick your tongue out with your mouth wide open again, showing him the remnants of his white sticky release on your wet muscle. Heat pools in your core once more when he throws a wad of spit into your mouth before he closes your mouth for you, forcing you to swallow, and you do so, enjoying the union of his spit and cum trickling down your throat.

Heeseung proceeds to untie the pink silk restraint around your wrists, giving you the impression of regaining your freedom until he quickly proves you wrong when he deftly manoeuvres you into a position where your face is pressed into the mattress.

“D-Daddy?” You stutter nervously as he forcefully takes both your arms and folds them together, pressing them into your back before tying the same pink silk restraint around your arms in a firm knot.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, baby. I’m gonna break you since that’s what you wanted, yeah?” His voice sounds raw with a primal hunger while his breathing sounds heavier, and you can only visualise in your head how hot he looks as you are unable to look over your shoulder. He has you on your knees still as they are pressed into the mattress, leaving your back to arch for him and the explicit visual of your two holes displayed in his eyes. “Daddy’s been missing his princess a little too much.”

“Need you so bad, daddy.” You whimper when he taps the bulbous head of his cock on your wet folds, impelling you to spread your knees further apart and your back arching deeper. 

“Don’t worry, baby. We’ll be fucking all night.” He says smugly as he eyes down at your gaping hole that has been assaulted by him earlier. With one last tap of his cock to your pussy, his powerful hips surge forward as he thrusts his cock into your awaiting cunt, gritting his teeth at the resistance of your walls around his girth. “Damn, baby. No matter how many times I fuck you, you’ll always feel tight around me.”

You can only moan, instantly going dumb just by another push of his cock as he begins to fuck you in slow, deeper strokes, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein in his sheer girth that has your head going delirious.

“I fucking missed this sweet pussy. Princess was made to take my cock. Gonna ruin your pussy for anyone else.” He lets out a guttural moan as he thrusts into you roughly, his muscular hips snapping against your buttcheeks with resounding smacks. “Pretty baby being a good cocksleeve for me. So fucking good to me. Need to be buried in you all night.”

Your clit feels neglected despite your pussy being fucked good by his cock. You whimper, turning your head to the other side with your cheeks pressing into the mattress. “Daddy.” You whine needily, earning yourself a sharp smack on your ass that springs tears to your eyes.

Heeseung grabs you by the hair and pulls you up just slightly while the other hand grips your waist to support your upper body from falling forward. “What more does my greedy baby want?”

“Want your finger to rub my clit.” You keen, desperation dripping from your tone. You moan out when he slams his cock into you unforgivingly, causing your whole body to shake from the impact.

“Greedy fucking slut. Just my cock alone is not enough for you.” He growls out, his tone is absent of any usual loving or softness, just rough with relentless degradation that is driven by his primitive hunger for you.

Still, Heeseung caves in to your request, but he pulls you up until your body is upraised while you remain standing on your knees. He releases your hair and wraps his arm around your chest while the other travels down to your aching clit. He rubs it hard and fast with maddening precision, stimulating your clit effectively with the pleasurable knot forming in your tummy.

With the dual sensation of his cock ruthlessly bullying in your cunt and his fingers rubbing your clit relentlessly, your eyes nearly go white as you throw your head back in pure ecstasy, your mouth gaping with pornographic moans that spur him further.

“Keep making those pretty fucking sounds, baby. Want to hear how good I’m making you feel.” He growls in your ear, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. He places a chaste kiss on your earlobe while he never falters in his momentum of fucking you deliriously. “You’re making daddy very happy.”

“Daddy.” You whine, your voice lacing with pure need for his affection. You turn your head to meet his glaring eyes. “Please kiss me.” You request softly, to which he grants it, dipping his head down and capturing your lips in a kiss that sates your need.

You moan against his parted lips, your cunt clenching hard around him as the knot in your tummy tightens at an alarming rate. “I’m gonna come, daddy.” You whisper sweetly, your tongue darting out to lick the seams of his lips. “Want you to come with me.”

“Whatever my gorgeous girl wants.” He kisses you once more before pulling away from you while you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, completely surrendering yourself to the imminent release as the knot in your tummy threatens to snap. “Here it comes, baby.”

You moan and whine uncontrollably at the intense stimulation of his fingers rubbing your clit hard and rapid while your tits jiggle from the way he slams his hips into you, his cock battering your cunt and delving deeper that you swear you can feel him in your tummy.

With another guttural moan from him, his orgasm crashes down on him in a torrent of ecstasy at the same time your orgasmic release hits you, and his hips go still against yours as he dumps his cum into your cunt. He groans as he bites down on your shoulder, feeling your cunt milking him greedily, as though it has been eager to be filled by his cum.

Your body feels weak as you remain leaning into him dependently, but he gently lowers your body till you go lax on the mattress before untying the restraint around your arms. Your mushy brain can barely process anything when he turns you around and pins both of your wrists above your head to tie the pink silk restraint around them once more.

“No, Hee—” You protest weakly as he rears back, towering over your pliant figure. Your pussy flutters as you watch him pulling his black top off his body and tossing it aside, revealing his lean body with toned muscles that entice you to feel them under your touch. “Untie me, please?”

But Heeseung disregards your polite request as he simply casts you a charming smirk, now moving on the bed and pulling you close to him by the legs. “You’re the one who said that you wanted to be tied down while I fucked you, so I’m giving you what you want.”

You watch in lustful anticipation as he grabs the base of his cock and aims it at your pussy. He taps the red tip on your clit repeatedly with such intensity that it stimulates your bundle of nerves once more, drawing whines from you as you squirm at the high sensitivity.

“I’m still sensitive!” You whine loudly as your hips stutter, trying your best to avoid him, but he pins you by the waist and continues to tap the tip angrily on your clit before sliding it up and down in between your folds. “No more!”

“Don’t be ungrateful. Daddy is giving you more than what you asked for.” He admonishes, his husky voice sounding rough. His eyes flicker to your glossy ones, and he adorns a taunting smirk on his lips. “Like I said before, it’s daddy’s job to spoil his princess, and I’m spoiling you with my cock since you’ve been busy fucking around with that damn dildo.”

Heeseung groans as he tilts his head up, feeling his own sensitivity as his tip feels good pressing into your clit while you marvel at his attractiveness, particularly the way his Adam’s apple is bobbing. “It’s about time I remind you that only my cock can satisfy your needy pussy the way you want.”

You are about to counterattack with the reminder of him who bought that dildo for you as a gift of an apology before he went for another tour, only to gasp at the sheer girth of his cock breaching your pussy without any warning.

His chest rumbles as he lets out a growl that sounds borderline animalistic, relishing the way your walls stretch divinely around him. “Fuck, feels just as good as the first time.” He remarks gruffly, now hovering above you with both hands pressing down into the sheets on the sides of your head. “This pussy is mine, and you’re mine.” He snarls possessively, sending pleasurable shockwaves through your body.

With another thrust into you, Heeseung proceeds to fuck you in hard, deep strokes that have you nearly seeing stars in your vision. His hands fist the sheets, watching in both amusement and desire as your mouth is gaping with airy moans while your glossy eyes look dazed as they zoom into his. His cock practically twitches at the way you look adorably dumb just by his cock bullying your insides the second time.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby. Can’t have you going dumb on my cock too soon.” He chuckles breathily above you, the sound itself sending flutters to your heart. You blink your eyes, watching as his pendant necklace dangles in the air right above you, getting even more turned on at the mere sight that causes your cunt to clench around him hard.

“Fuck, baby. You’re trying to vacuum my cock or something?” He groans loudly, nearly faltering in his steady momentum as your walls hug him tighter. He forces himself to push his cock deeper into you, eliciting another pretty moan from you while he basks in the wet warmth in your cunt.

“You’re so hot, daddy.” You utter in a drunk slur, smiling lazily at him despite the intensity of his dark gaze making your insides purr loudly. “Want you to fuck me angrily like how you looked in those concert clips I watched.” You babble, your mind knowing nothing but him and his cock alone.

Deja vu hits him like whiplash before he recalls the same words you spoke two nights ago during that video call. He scoffs, smirking meanly at you, and has your walls fluttering around his cock in excitement. “You’re such a dirty, horny slut, princess.”

You hum in agreement, mewling when his fingers caress your face that feels deceptive. “I’m your slut.” You state proudly, moaning when he hits the spot that has you throwing your head back, his cock angling deeper that hits your g-spot.

“Yeah, you are.” He growls as he fucks his cock into you with an unyielding force that causes your tits to jiggle, enticing him to grab a handful of it while the other remains supporting his weight from pressing down on you. “You’re daddy’s slut only. My gorgeous slut with the perfect pussy.”

You preen under him, almost forgetting that your wrists are bound by the restraint just when you are about to run your fingers through his hair. His hand goes gripping on the bed frame behind you, allowing you the delicious view of his bicep muscle flexing with every forceful thrust he delivers to your sopping cunt.

“H-Harder.” You utter shakily, finding yourself slipping into the heady mix of lust as each thrust of his cock into you rouses the building pleasure to greater heights.

Heeseung complies, thrusting into you harder with a profound impact that knocks the breath out of you. Sweats begin to glisten on his skin as you spot trails of sweat dripping down his sideburns while his jaw is taut with tension and his dark eyes are full of concentration, wanting to bestow sheer pleasure on you.

You have no idea how long he has been fucking into you harder and rougher, but long enough for you to discern the sound of your bed creaking from the impact, and your mind is reduced into nothing, with only moans, gasps, and whines being coherent. You feel your cheeks wet before realising that they’re your own tears.

“You look so pretty when you cry, baby.” He comments, his voice ladening with raw hunger and lust as he drinks in the pain and pleasure twisting in your delicate features while you remain helpless with your wrists bound. “Daddy's gonna make you cry more.”

Heeseung hoists both legs up till your kneecaps are pressed into your shoulders, shocking you with your flexibility that you have no idea you are capable of. In this position, his cock feels deeper in you to the point where you feel overstimulated despite the knot in your tummy having yet to unravel.

“Heeseung!” You scream, unable to handle the intensity of his momentum as he fucks you with reckless abandon, battering your walls ruthlessly while depriving you of the ability to writhe or squirm. It hurts so good to the point where you are torn between enjoying the painful pleasure that feels addictive or uttering the safe word that hangs at the tip of your tongue.

“Take it, baby. Fucking take it all!” He growls, his face contorting into pure madness that you can’t help but to find him unbearably hot, causing your nearly battered pussy to flutter. “I’m going to dump my cum in your cunt. I’m gonna breed you with my seeds, knock you up with my baby. You’d look so hot with a pregnant belly.”

A broken moan leaves your lips as your mind is reeling at his words, but soon enough, the knot in your tummy is close to snapping. “I’m close, daddy!” You announce in a cry as tears continue to spill from your eyes.

“Come for me, baby.” On his demand, you are slammed by a shuddering release that has your body convulsing beneath him while he encircles his hand around your ankle and places a soft kiss above your ankle as you continue to bathe his relentless cock with your sticky essence.

Heeseung pushes on your orgasm a little longer, his cock coating with your thick, creamy arousal while furiously pumping into your weeping cunt before his own imminent climax hits him as he tumbles over the edge of ecstasy, spilling his cum into your cunt and filling you to the brim as this time, his cum feels more loaded than the previous. He groans, feeling your cunt spasming around him as he lodges his cock deep, ensuring that your hole is taking all of it.

But when he looks down at your conjoined sexes, he spots the union of his cum with yours leaking from your hole. He clicks his tongue in dissatisfaction before withdrawing his cock from your battered pussy and allowing your weary legs to settle down.

Just when you think he is done, your once-heavy eyelids snap wide open at the sensation of his tongue lapping up your pussy lips. “Heeseung!” You whine, squirming away from him, but he releases a grunt and holds your inner thighs down firmly, depriving you of any means of escape until he’s done with you.

“I can’t! It’s too much!” You sob out, feeling overstimulated to the point where your emotions are going haywire, but the way your hips buck up to meet his tongue betrays you.

Heeseung continues to lick your messy pussy and pushes the leaking cum into your hole despite your body attempting to thrash around in his vice-like hold. His tongue scoops the remnants of your cum before he hovers above you and grabs you by the throat, forcing you to open your mouth.

You watch with glossy eyes as he transfers a wad of your cum with his into your mouth, moaning involuntarily when it hits the back of your throat. He leans in to kiss you hard, bruising your lips again with how ravenous he is. He pulls away from you while the string of your saliva is prevalent until he cuts it off with a lick along the seam of his lip.

Your lips quiver with a soft whine of protest when the bulbous head of his cock slides between your wet pussy lips, your glossy eyes meeting your lover’s face as he looks down at your nearly conjoined sexes. “No more, daddy, please.” You protest weakly, finding the strength to look down at his erection going hard for you once more.

“One more, baby. You can give me one more, yeah?” He rasps, pressing his lips into your cheek as he enters your weeping hole with an obscene squelch, your walls accommodating to the familiarity of his sheer girth and feeling as though they have been moulded to the shape of his cock.

“You said that earlier too.” You whimper shakily as he begins to thrust into you slowly, taking his time to relish the way your walls envelop around him like they never want to let go.

“I know, baby, but I can’t get enough of you and your sweet pussy.” He murmurs, his tone a familiar mellow, while his mean demeanour melts into the sweet and gentle lover. His thumb strokes your clit tenderly, eliciting a mewl from you. “I promise I’ll try to be gentle this time.”

“Can you untie me, please? I wanna hold you.” You plead tearfully, feeling utterly desperate to hold your lover and seek comfort in his warmth.

He kisses your cheek in response before planting his hand next to your head while the other skilfully unties the restraint without faltering in his thrusts. Once your wrists are freed from the restraint, you are quick to lower your aching arms and run your fingers through his tousled hair while your lips manage to find him, kissing him faintly.

“Still sensitive, daddy.” You cry softly, your indecisive hips squirming and meeting his thrusts while he amplifies your sensitivity by rubbing your clit in measured precision. You mewl at his overflowing affection as he peppers kisses all over your face with one arm snaking around your arched back.

“You’ll feel better with daddy’s cock soon.” He says so gently despite his austere demeanour, which remains unyielding enough for you to surrender to him. He presses his lips on the corner of your lips, biting back a groan when your walls vacuum his girth. “Thought you wanna be my good girl.”

“I do.” You keen as you attempt to meet his slow yet powerful thrusts, but his hips keep pressing down on you, making you feel his cock at deeper heights. “I love being your good girl.”

Heeseung kisses you as a reward before rearing back just slightly for him to look down at your tummy. “Look, baby. My cock is deep inside of you.” He says smugly with a soft smirk on his lips, prompting you to glance down, only to moan at the sight of your lower tummy bulging with each thrust of his cock. He presses down his palm on your bulging tummy, adding more pressure. “Feel that?”

You nod your head numbly, getting lost in the abyss of pure pleasure. “M-more.” You manage to enunciate your words despite your mind being reduced to nothing coherent except the sheer need of him and his cock. “Want you to breed me again, daddy.”

“I love you.” His sweet declaration strikes a chord deep in you amidst the heady mix of lust, and his eyes gazing into yours are a reflection of the sentiments that your heart harbours for him. “You’re so perfect for me, like you’re made just for me. My perfect girl.”

You moan softly, your cunt squeezing him at his praise. The overstimulation is slowly replaced by an incandescent pleasure that feels searing and all-consuming as you meet his thrusts with a renewed vigour. His thumb remains stroking and rubbing your clit, which amplifies the familiar knot in your tummy.

“Feels so good.” Your eyes go white as you throw your head back in pure ecstasy while the hypnotising arch of your back entices him to take a nipple in his mouth in the way your tits are being pushed out.

“Yeah, you do.” He rasps against your tit, giving it another sloppy kiss before hovering his face above yours and positioning his lips to your parted ones, your bated breaths mingling together.

Your heart flutters at the mere gesture of his fingers intertwined with yours in a loving yet tight grip before pinning your entwined fingers next to your head. You squeeze his hand as soon as you feel the familiar yet profound release that you know will be a messy gushing release.

“I’m close, Hee.” You inform him in a weak moan as the intensity of his thumb rubbing your clit sends you hurtling to the edge and his thrusts become unyielding and forceful, bordering on intoxication, making you arch your body into him.

He can feel his own pleasure teetering as he squeezes your hand. “Let it go for me anytime, baby. Daddy’s got you.” He whispers affectionately in your ear, his hips snapping into yours as his cock lodges deeper to the hilt.

You hook one arm around his neck, needing him close to you as you are teetering on the edge of sheer pleasure. The sounds of your whiny moans and mewls go straight to his cock as it twitches inside of you, on the verge of release. With one last push, his own orgasm washes over him violently at the same time your release gushes out in an uncontrollable fluid while your body convulses beneath him, soaking him and the sheets entirely, finally attaining the pinnacle of your pleasures.

Still rubbing your slick clit to prolong your delicious orgasm, he looks at you, feeling the insatiable beast within him growling for more of you as he watches your delicate features twisting in pure pleasure with silent moans leaving your parted lips while you continue to bathe him with your gushing essence.

Heeseung can’t resist capturing your swollen lips, his hips faltering while his cock remains inside of your cunt that is brimmed with the union of your releases. He kisses you sloppily and messily, his tongue roaming around your hot cavern lazily and licking the seams of your lips before devouring you again.

You remain rocking your hips despite him pressing his hips into yours. Your fingers go tangled in his hair, tugging on the strands that bring him pleasure as he groans lowly into your mouth. You continue to make out with him, basking in the post-orgasmic release while the exertion begins to dawn in your limbs.

“I missed you so much.” You mewl into the kiss, tears welling behind your closed eyelids as he kisses you sweetly yet softly that flutters your heart. You pull his body closer to you with your legs wrapped around his thigh, craving this much-needed intimacy that you have been craving for ever since his long absence.

“I missed you more, baby.” He murmurs against your parted lips, allowing you to gasp for air. He begins to litter his kisses down on your neck. “I love you.” He utters, his voice laced with affection that feels profound, while his chest blooms at the realisation that he is finally back in your arms, back to you.

You cup his cheeks, forcing him to meet your eyes. “I love you more.” You tell him, your voice trembling with emotions as you gaze at him tearfully, unbelieving at the fact that someone like him is your lover.

His eyes soften at the tears rolling down your stained cheeks freely once more. “Not more than I do.” He whispers, dipping his head down and kissing you deeply on the lips, pouring every bit of his emotions into the way he kisses you.

Heeseung pulls away from you while you whimper at the loss of his warmth on your body, only to find yourself being lifted by him as he rolls you on top of him, your lower abdomen pressing into his cock that slowly renews with vigour.

“Heeseung.” You whine, feeling both amazement and shock at the fact that he manages to get hard again in a short span of time. You force yourself to raise your upper body with your palms on his pectoral muscles for support.

“I can’t get enough of you.” He grunts as soon as your walls envelop him, his hands pressing you down by the hips while you slowly sink onto his cock with a broken moan. “Want you to ride my cock.”

Just like that, the two of you succumb to the abyss of sheer pleasure once more, losing yourselves in the heady mix of sweat, lust, and love. You even lose track of time for the hours ever since he started fucking you, and he fucks you in every position that is accessible for him to seek your lips in a kiss occasionally. 

By the time Heeseung decides to fuck you for the last time, your pussy is leaking with the union of your insatiable release so much that it stains your sheet to the point where it practically collects a pool of white sticky cum.

You begin to feel the need to let go again for the last time as your legs are shaking tremendously from the unrelenting overstimulation, finding yourself in a position that is similar to a mating press with your knees being folded and your legs spread widely for him. You feel more exposed compared to any position, your battered pussy being spread open by his thrusting cock. 

“I need to come.” You hope you sound coherent enough after the incapability of enunciating anything other than a litany of moans, whines, and whimpers. Your glossy eyes scan his face again, admiring how he manages to maintain his hotness in the way his dark eyes penetrate into yours with the strands of his hair falling over his forehead that are soaked with his sweat.

“Me too, baby.” He says, his voice sounding rough at the edges as he delivers one impactful thrust that triggers both of your orgasms that have been teetering on the same edge, his cum filling your used, battered cunt to the brim.

As the last echoes of ecstasy wane in the air, you allow your spent body to fall limp with your terribly aching legs remaining trembling from the countless orgasms he coaxed from you. Though your need is fully sated, you feel an overwhelming need to break down with the whirlpool of emotions unabating within you.

Before you know it, a loud cry escapes you while your chest feels oddly tightened. The waterfalls come down uncontrollably despite your efforts to curb this unexplainable feeling inside of you. All you know is the need to let out those tears.

But Heeseung shows no sign of panic, as if he knows that this would happen. Instead, he positions himself next to you and cradles your trembling body close to him. He tucks your face in the nook of his neck while you continue to sob out profusely, your hands blindly seeking his warmth and skin as they roam around his torso before hugging him tight.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby. You’re okay.” He whispers in your ear with an overflowing affection that only seems to bring out more sobs from you. With one arm around the expanse of your shoulders, he places the other on your lower back and draws soothing circles on your skin, grounding you to the moment as he pulls you closer to him. “You did amazing, my sweet girl. Daddy is so proud of you.”

Amidst the relentless downpour of your emotions, you silently preen at his praise. He continues to whisper sweet words softly in your ear, his arms holding you like you’re his prized possession, never letting you go. He presses butterfly kisses all over your face as soon as your cries and sobs abate, leaving only occasional hiccups from you that sound adorable to his ears.

A soft whine emits from the back of your throat as the pain, the aches, and the overall exertion dawn on your wrecked body profoundly while your eyes burn from the aftermath of shedding incessant tears. “I know, I know.” He says in a soft hush, his lips pressing on your hairline as he continues to coax you. “Let me take care of you now.”

Something inside of you snaps painfully when your lover pulls away from you, leaving your still-trembling body alone on the bed as he stands on his feet further from you. “Don’t leave me.” You whimper in pain, your chest heaving erratically as you can feel sobs coming up to your throat.

Heeseung looks at you with the softest and gentlest gaze that provides you a minuscule bit of comfort for your distressed mind. “I won’t. I’m just going to fill up the bathtub, but I’ll come back to you soon.” He tells you assuringly before turning his back on you and making his way to the bathroom quickly, because seeing your heartbroken eyes seems to hurt his heart.

His hands work methodically as he prepares everything that is needed while waiting for the bathtub to be filled up with the right temperature, but his mind is not in the present as it drifts to you, needing to be by your side as soon as possible. Once he’s done, he wastes no time in returning to you, finding you all curled up on your side with sniffles leaving you.

Heeseung bends down next to the bed until he meets your glossy eyes. “We’re going to take a bath together, alright, baby?” He says as he strokes your wet cheek tenderly.

“Okay.” You utter weakly, sniffling for another time before you attempt to raise your body, only for him to slide his arms underneath you and lift you up with ease. You want to let him know that you can walk on your own since you know that he must feel exhausted too, but even uttering a word feels like a heavy chore.

So you lean into him with your head resting on his shoulder, your eyelids feeling heavier by each passing second. You squirm lightly in his hold when he submerges into the filled bathtub with you before he positions you carefully where you find yourself seated in between his legs with your back pressing into his chest. Eventually, your body goes completely lax as you allow the warm temperature of the water to seep into your aching muscles.

The low groan of relief rumbling from his chest behind you sends you the shivers as the bath soothes his spent body, but you relax again as you lean into him with his arms around your waist. Comfortable silence wraps around the two of you as you bask in this much-needed intimacy while he occasionally gives you kisses on your crown and forehead.

Seeing how languid you are, Heeseung is determined to take extra care of your well-being — washing your hair and massaging your scalp, lathering soap on your body while you mindlessly follow his gentle instruction for him to rinse every part of you. He is being expertly careful with practiced patience, knowing that you are still sensitive from the aftermath.

And you notice it; even the little actions he does, you really do. It makes your heart swell with emotions as you can feel his love in the way he takes care of you. You want to reciprocate, but you are not in the right headspace just yet.

“How are you feeling right now, baby?” Heeseung murmurs against your hair while he strokes your bare arm tenderly, now holding you close to him with his arm around your waist and soaking yourselves in the bathtub for a little longer.

“Sore.” You mumble numbly as you turn your head to look at him with glossy eyes before snuggling into his solid, dependent body. “Want you to hold me close like this.” You whine, curling your body into him as you position his arms a little higher and closer to you.

His breathy chuckles awaken the butterflies in your tummy. “I would like nothing more.”

Time eventually passes by where you are now seated on the edge of your stained and ruined bed, adorned in Heeseung’s oversized shirt and underwear, not bothering to put on any pants. The sound of his footsteps draws your attention as you slowly lift your head, watching him put on a white shirt that sadly conceals his toned physique.

Heeseung stares at the ruined bed with a frown, his eyes narrowing in slight disgust at the sight of the soaked bed sheets, some parts of which are pooled with white sticky cum, but there is a sense of pride at the fact that he managed to make that much of a mess out of you. He exhales through his nose as he runs his fingers through his damp hair. It looks like he’ll do the laundry tomorrow instead, or rather later since the time has struck five in the morning.

When his eyes search for yours, his frown deepens as your cheeks shine with crystalline tears that cascade down silently. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asks, his mellow tone lacing with a sense of urgency.

Heeseung already expected you to cry from the intensity of your shared passion earlier, but seeing you crying silently right now hits him in the guts, rendering him panicked at the thought of his action or word hurting your feelings.

“I’m fine. I just need—“ You pause, allowing yourself to release a soft sob while you languidly wipe your tears away with the back of your hand. “I just need some time to calm down properly.”

But Heeseung is not convinced, prompting him to kneel in front of you. Despite your blurry vision, you can see the pain contorting in his handsome features. His jaw clenches as you continue to cry silently. “Shit. Was I too rough on you?” He asks, anger rousing within him at himself, but the devastation is prominent in the way he speaks to you. “Was I too much? Did I hurt you? Fuck, I’m so sorry, baby—“

“No, you didn’t.” You cut him off quickly, but the dubiety in his eyes remains. You sniffle and look away from him, your face flushing warmly. “You could even go rougher on me next time.” You mutter shakily.

Heeseung feels genuine confusion, uncertain whether or not to believe your declaration when tears continue to cascade down your beautiful face. “If so, then why are you still crying?”

“I have no idea, but I just feel the need to let it out.” You tell him honestly, sniffling for the last time before feeling the warmth of his palm on your cheek. You lean into his touch as he wipes your tears away. “It’s probably because the sex was too good.”

For a moment, there is silence, but it is shattered by his melodious chuckles. Your heart pounds harder when he embraces you into a comforting hug as you bask in his scent. “Baby, you got me so worried because I thought I did hurt you.” He says, his fingers stroking the back of your head.

“You could never hurt me, Hee.” You utter as you slowly pull away from the hug, and you are hit by a familiar melancholia that derives from the reflection and sentiment you kept hidden for a long time. “You’re a good man, and you’re too good for someone like me.”

Heeseung feels his face drop the same way his heart slowly sinks as he notices the raw vulnerability in your glistening eyes and how there is a palpable tremor in your voice. “No, baby, we don’t do that kind of talking, alright?” He doesn’t mean to sound so stern, but he fears to hear the next words that come out of your mouth.

“I’ve been feeling insecure, Hee.” You finally reveal your deepest insecurity, whimpering as you hug yourself. You continue to pour out your feelings without looking at him because you know that you’d only break down again. “Maybe it’s because you’ve been going on tours more often for months, but there were moments where I questioned myself: what did I have to offer to someone like you?”

You hear him sighing softly, but you don’t grant him any opportunity to intervene. “You’re a popular rising k-idol, and you’re incredibly extraordinary with talents other than your handsomeness.” A weak chuckle leaves your lips, but then comes the heart-wrenching feeling that twists painfully inside you. “But I realised that I’m not in the same league as you.”

“Baby—“

“Your line of work often requires you to be surrounded by attractive people in the same league as you, and they have more to offer than I ever will.” Your voice breaks at the thought of him losing interest in you, and of course he might since you’re bland compared to someone like him. You recoil from him, as though he’s hurting you. “I don’t deserve you, Heeseung.”

“Sweetheart, stop.” He forces himself to sound assertively stern, eliciting a whimper from you. He rises from the floor, only to take a seat next to you without any space in between. He grabs your chin and tilts your head up to meet his sorrowful eyes. “If these things have been constantly plaguing your mind, then I have failed as your boyfriend.”

“What? No, you have not, and you have never!” You exclaim with vehemence, surprised at how strong your voice comes out, but the words that leave from your sweet, loving boyfriend’s mouth ignite something akin to anger. Your eyes reflect your self-resentment and bitterness as you look at him. “I’m the one who failed as your girlfriend! I let my emotions and insecurities get the best of me, and I’m bothering you with such trivial matters.”

“Listen to me, please?” He pleads softly as he cups your cheeks, and you clamp your quivering lips shut, your eyes searching for his, noticing the raw vulnerability that reflects your own. “You may find it hard to believe me, but I’ve been having similar thoughts to yours. I've been feeling the same insecurity too.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, frowning, because why would your confident boyfriend, who is a popular rising star and who also happens to be very attractive, be insecure?

“Sometimes I feel like I’m undeserving of you and your love. I often wondered if I was the right man for you because honestly, sweetheart, you deserve so much better.” He confesses, his voice trembling with emotions despite his collected demeanour. He leans his forehead against yours without letting go of your face. “I took you for granted, be it intentionally or unintentionally.”

You shake your head lightly. “But you have never—“

“You told me that I’m too good for you, but it’s actually the opposite.” He smiles weakly as he strokes your soft cheek with his thumbs, gazing into your eyes. “I relied on you a lot for emotional support despite you having to deal with your own emotional baggage, but you’re always so good to me, and you always made it look so easy. It is one of the reasons why I fell for you. Your resilience and compassion. It’s truly admirable — you are admirable.”

You want to spill the tears teetering in your waterline, but your chest blooms delightfully at his kind, genuine words that move you so deeply, and so you continue to listen to him while offering comfort as you place your palms on top of his hands.

“And whenever I had to leave for tours, where I’d be miles apart from you, my heart broke each time at the reality of being apart from the woman I would always need.” The yearning in his deliverance tears a soft sob from you. A warm smile spreads across his lips before he leans in to kiss your wet cheek. “You’re the pillar of my strength, sweetheart, and I would want to spend the rest of my life with someone as beautiful and amazing as you."

Heeseung drops his hands and leans away from you while you watch him with curiosity as he seems to be retrieving something from the pocket of his pants. “Which is why I bought you this.”

There is an emotional lump in your throat when he opens the small blue velvety box that contains two similar platinum rings. “Heeseung.” You utter his name weakly, uncertain which emotions you want to express.

Heeseung adorns a boyish grin that makes you fall in love with him all over again. “I did promise you during that video call that I’d be buying you a ring.” He says as he grabs one of the rings and holds your hand before sliding it onto your ringless finger with ease as it fits around you perfectly.

“Now your turn.” He encourages you to take the ring from the box before you do the same to his ring finger while your insides remain a jittering mess.

“You even got my size perfectly.” You murmur as you examine the ring on your finger with sparkling eyes, feeling incredibly touched despite wondering how he even managed to.

“Well, I might or might not have stolen one of your rings and carry it with me wherever I go.” He confesses, smirking at you mischievously, and that earns him a playful scowl from you, but in all honesty, there is nothing more romantic than him confessing that he carries your ring wherever he goes.

Instead of admiring his own ring, Heeseung watches you with pure adoration as you keep examining yours like it is now the most meaningful thing to you. “Technically, we could be engaged now. Plus, I did say that I intend on marrying you someday.” 

Your heart flutters while he wipes the leftover tear stains on your cheeks. You look at him with a smile that hits Cupid's arrow to his heart. “So is this like a promise ring?” You ask shyly.

“Something like that, but the most important thing about our rings is that it will serve as a reminder to us.” He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Your heart pounds harder when he places a kiss on the ring itself. His eyes soften when he looks at you again. “A reminder that we would always go back to each other when we’re apart.”

You can’t seem to articulate your feelings, but your eyes speak volumes of the love you have for him, an unconditional kind of love. “I still have to figure things out on how to make you stay by my side even when I need to attend to my idol-work responsibilities.” He sighs softly, but the firm determination in his eyes provides more than just an assurance to you, dispelling any insecurities you once had. “But for now, if I ever have to leave you again, I hope that when you look at this ring, you’ll remember that I’ll go back to you, like I always have.”

“I love you, Lee Heeseung.” You utter, your voice softening as you cradle his face tenderly. “I love you so, so much.”

He smiles softly before grabbing your hand and placing a deep kiss on your palm. “I love you more than you love me.” He declares in between the kisses while his eyes remain gazing at you with pure love and affection. “No one could ever come close to my heart that belongs to you since day one.”

“Since the day you had a crush on me?” You ask cheekily while you gaze at him like a lovesick fool, a lazy smile stretching across your lips.

“Damn right.” He smirks at you before leaning forward to lift you up, eliciting a playful squeal from you as he settles you on top of him, sitting sideways. His nose brushes against yours delicately, tenderly. “You had my heart first back then, even before I realised it.”

With that you close the distance as you lean into him, your lips colliding with his in a shared tenderness, kissing him sweetly while the world fades into insignificance.

The room is cold, but his body provides the warmth you need as you are spooned by him, and the bed the two of you chose to sleep in is situated in the guest room, considering that the bed in your shared room with him is ruined. 

Your leg is thrown over his, hugging him as though he’s your bolster. Your arms are wrapped around his torso, and your head is tucked against his chest, allowing you to hear his steady heartbeat that has become your lullaby. But when you look up at his face, his eyes are already staring into yours, awakening butterflies in your tummy.

“Why are you not asleep?” You ask in a hushed tone, your lips turning down into a frown.

He raises his eyebrow at you, and you can see mischief in the way his lips twitch into a smirk. “Because I couldn’t sleep?”

You roll your eyes at him and huff. “Isn’t that the obvious.”

“Can I ask you something?” He speaks up after contemplating ever since he tucked you into bed with him.

“What is it?” You ask as you adjust your position where your chin is resting on his chest, your eyes sparkling with interest that brings out a chuckle from him.

“Do you really get turned on whenever you watch me perform?” He runs his fingers along your bare thigh absentmindedly. Oh, he has been thinking about this for a while now, ever since your confession during that video call.

“I do, but just certain songs that you perform.” You reaffirm with a sheepish smile, ignoring the goosebumps on your skin at the sensation of his fingers caressing your thigh. “Besides, who wouldn’t get turned on to see her hot boyfriend going wild on stage?”

He raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “I go wild on stage?” The question itself elicits a scoff from you because there is no way he doesn’t realise it.

“Yeah, you do. Not that I’m complaining. Got your fans going crazy most of the time.” You chuckle but pout instantly at the familiar bitterness in your chest. “But it got me feeling quite jealous too with how you were so into it, showing all that to other people.”

“Sweetheart, you know I only have eyes for you.” He says softly, distracting you when he squeezes the flesh of your thigh that has your breath hitching. “And you’re the only woman I get turned on over for.”

“Heeseung.” Your face flushes warmer than it did before. 

He grins deviously as he sees how flustered you look. “Did you forget that I also promised that we’d be fucking every day once I came back?”

You scoff out a chuckle. “Good luck with that, because I’m sore everywhere right now, and I’d probably wake up late.” You say, attempting to retract your limbs from your dangerous lover, who looks like he is about to pounce on you anytime now.

But he has you in a firm grip. His hand moves to your round bum and squeezes it. “But baby….”

Shaky breaths leave your lips as you struggle to compose yourself. “Gosh, your sex drive is insane.” You mutter breathlessly, but your heart pounds harder while your clit tingles familiarly.

“Can’t help it when you’re the woman I’m in love with.” He smirks lazily as he dips his head down to kiss you on the lips, and you find yourself reciprocating eagerly. He pulls away, his breath mingling with yours. “Plus, I get turned on by you even when you breathe.”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And hot.” He adds while the smirk on his lips never falters.

You can practically hear your pussy purring in agreement. You hum, adorning a lazy smile on your kissable lips that he can’t help but to kiss again. “The hottest ever.” You mumble against his lips.

The comfortable silence returns, but it doesn’t last long when he calls for you again. “Sweetheart?” You hum sleepily in response as the weight in your eyelids gets heavier.

A couple beats of silence. “Do you ever want to ride your pretty pussy on my face? Because I’m into that.” He blurts out rather bluntly, and just like that, you are rendered fully awake in disbelief.

“Baby, no.” You tell him with a frown, but a part of you feels enticed by the idea.

“Come on. It’d be hot with you sitting on top of me and making a mess all over my face.” He reasons with you that you find ridiculous, and yet your mind proceeds to produce such lewd images that faintly ignite a desire in you. “Maybe I’d get you to rub your clit on my throat since I know you have a thing for my Adam's apple.”

You groan into his chest. “Heeseung, sleep.”

But your lover is relentless, even when he’s teasing, or perhaps he’s not at the moment. “I’m definitely making you ride my face.” He says confidently with a smirk when you shoot him a glare, now raising your upper body to look at his face better.

“I’ll shut you up with my pussy if you don’t stop talking.” You say the words that come to your mind instantly without realising they seem to spur him further.

In a blink of an eye, he flips you over, pinning you on the bed with one hand planted next to your head. You can feel your chest purring as he tilts your chin with his fingers while his thumb goes stroking along your jawline.

His eyes darken dangerously, but you know that he still has control over his desire. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby.”

Maybe you should threaten him with a good time more often now.

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[hyuneflix]

THE CURE • Bang Chan

sex therapist!chan x client!reader after years of unhappy endings, your friend suggests a trip to sydney's most up and coming sex therapist. you hadn't expected much, least of all to discover the cure you'd been looking for all this time was your therapist himself.

word count: 11k << back to dash // next episode >>

CONTENT WARNINGS

𐙚 - female masturbation, mutual masturbation, vibrator use, phone sex, guided masturbation, dirty talk, use of "slut" and similar terms, chan is called sir, lowkey orgasm denial, sub!reader, soft dom!chan slightly possessive chan, some mentions of a corruption kink.

! - inappropriate relationship dynamic (chan is her sex therapist), reader is written to be neurodivergent though it isn't explicitly stated, mention of dissociation and depersonalisation, brief descriptions of a dissociative episode, non-descript mentions of trauma around sex, therapy talk/setting. everything is intentionally vague but be careful nonetheless.

episode one - a cure for unhappy endings

Never in a million years had you ever expected you’d be sat in the plush, sleek office of one of Sydney’s most esteemed sex therapists.

You weren’t quite sure how your close friend had managed to convince you to make an appointment, her perky voice insisting it would magic away all of your problems while sliding an equally polished business card toward you. Perhaps it had been the conviction and openness with which she told you it saved her marriage that had you contemplating it in earnest. Alternatively it could’ve been her manner of being–the cheery disposition which led her to float into every room with a wide smile–one that made you sure she was doing something right. Whatever the reason you were here.

The waiting room looked akin to a modern showroom, the walls a crisp white save for a wide strip of matte black that accented one side of the room. Lounge chairs dotted the sizable space, the light grey of the velvety fabric contrasting against the one black wall. The greyscale of the room’s aesthetic was broken up by pops of green and gold, present in the flourishing of tall house plants that scattered the room beside towering, pale yellow-lit lamps. The floor looked to be a marbled stone material, perhaps a dark porcelain sleet or purbeck, partially hidden beneath a single rug that housed the centre of the room. Atop the geometric carpet a glass coffee table sat littered with pamphlets and magazines, a bouquet of white lilies placed in the very middle. The dreary silence of the near-empty space was compromised by the whirl of the air conditioning accompanied only by the occasional taps of keys echoing from behind the receptionist's desk. 

You tapped your foot soundlessly as you awaited your appointment, fingers curled tightly around a paper cup. The cardboard was hot beneath your already too-warm palms, the container half-filled with a surprisingly expensive tasting coffee. Perhaps you shouldn’t be surprised that Sydney’s most up and coming sex therapist spared no expense when it came to their guests, though knowing so little about the person you were due to meet, your expectations were caught in a chaotic flurry of uncertainty and nervousness. You tried to still your restless limbs, planting your foot firmly against the solid ground as if the feeling of the floor beneath your shoes would heighten your senses, stilling your mind. Attempting, instead, to focus solely on the white noise that exhaled from the AC vent. You couldn’t, though. You never could. That was why you were here after all. You were so entirely unable to relax–to calm your nerves and quiet your mind–that even a climax was too far from reach. Your leg bounced anxiously at this, a huff of air from your parted lips sending strands of hair catching in the soft breeze it created. 

Your eyes lifted to the clock above the reception, brows scrunching as the hand ticked slowly passed 3:15pm. Fifteen minutes behind schedule. It wasn’t the lateness that had your eyebrows furrowing in slight annoyance, it was the minutes more you’d have to spend in the presence of your own nervous thoughts. Swallowing down some more of your coffee you placed the paper cup on the small side table beside you, freeing up your hands as you dug around the contents of your tote for your phone. The aged white fabric, its front decorated with a bright sun and array of technicoloured pastel flowers, rarely left your side. It was a comforting piece of familiarity in the otherwise chaotic and ever-changing ambience of Australia’s once largest city. The external screen of your mobile lit up the moment it was freed from the shadowed confines of the multi-coloured canvas, revealing a few messages from the very friend who had placed you here on this day. 

[ from: Matilda ♥️]

2:32pm: don’t forget ur apt ik what ur like 😉

2:55pm: istg if ur still asleep ?? i juss knew going out last night was a mistake smh

3:01pm: k i see how it is ,, enjoy being pent up for the rest of ur life cunt ❤️

You snickered at her quick descent into petty remarks, fingers tugging at the folded screen until it opened. Tapping in your passcode you responded, letting her know you hadn’t missed your appointment despite the simmering of an ache in your temple. She wasn’t wrong, going out last night wasn’t the smartest idea but you’d insisted it would help you get out some of that nervous energy that threatened to spill over in instances like this one. You theorised that with a pounding head and an undercurrent of nausea your racing thoughts would have something else to fixate on. Imagine your surprise when you awoke in near good health. It was only natural that the one time you didn’t mind feeling a little worse for wear you felt on cloud nine. You were cursed, that was the only explanation; one that felt even more true given your current occupancy in the waiting room of a sex therapist.

The creek of a door drew your attention away from your phone, a deep voice calling your name despite the absence of other customers situated in the expanse he’d entered. Your gaze fixed on the figure half-hidden by the door frame, eyes widening when you took in the details of the person a few feet from you. It suddenly became abundantly clear why the man before you was so successful in his attempts to fix his clients sex lives; he was exceptionally handsome. Attractive in a quiet and unconventional way but undeniably so all the same. His dark gaze was soft despite the all-consuming black holes his deep brown eyes became. They sucked you in without warning, swallowing you whole the longer you held his stare. It wasn’t just his enthralling pair of aphotic orbs that had the breath catching in your throat, everything about him seemed crafted by an artist so proficient in their technique you failed to scrutinise a single flaw. 

You managed a smile as you grabbed for your coffee, swallowing down the last of the cooling liquid to discard in the metallic bin on your journey toward the magnetic man; the muted thud when it hit the bottom going unacknowledged as you passed. Your tote hung from your shoulder lazily as you followed him into his office, watching the way his upper back and arms flexed beneath his too-tight charcoal dress shirt. The silk-cotton sleeves, despite the slightly ill fit, remained rolled up mid-way; veiny arms on full display as he directed you toward another set of lounge chairs. You’d hoped to feel better once your appointment began–you usually did–but having laid eyes upon the man you were expected to speak openly with regarding such intimate details, you only felt worse. His pink, plump lips widened in a large smile as he motioned you toward one of the chairs. You complied, bag slipping from your shoulder as you lowered yourself into the comfortable leather.

“Sorry for the late start; had a meeting overrun.” He spoke with emphatic sincerity, dimples pressing indentations against his pale cheeks. You could only nod, mind preoccupied by the tufts of dark curls caught in the artificial breeze that pulsed throughout the space. The office was a little larger than the last room, the aesthetics similar save the large windows on one side of it; their transparency enveloping the area in a warm glow of natural light. The beating sun against the crystal clear glass contradicted the chill of the aircon, balancing the room’s temperature to near perfection. Yet, despite this, you felt far too hot with your flushed cheeks and sweaty palms. A symptom, no doubt, of the man sat across from you.

“That’s okay, I get it.” You murmured back, fingers toying with the hem of your checkered summer dress, the soft cotton providing your anxious energy with some relief. The man in front of you seemed to take note of your nervous fussing, eyes falling to your bare thighs momentarily to fix on the opening and closing of your fists around the hem. His tongue darted across his bottom lip adding a glossy sheen to his already enticing smile; deep brown pools still drinking in your itching fingers with an unreadable expression. 

“I know you must be feeling nervous–that’s normal–but you don’t have to worry about diverging anything until you’re ready.” His smile widened, reaching beside him to grab a large ipad from a short table, action in tandem with the raising of his gaze. “Why don’t we start with introductions and then we can go over some basics; try and set a baseline for what you’re comfortable discussing?” You nodded at this, words failing you for a moment. 

“That works for me.” Your mouth caught up with your brain, offering him a smile of your own. 

“Good, well I’m Chan; Bang Chan. My friends call me Chris though, so you’re welcome to call me that.” His disarming nature was impossible to ignore, the tone of his voice paired with his approachable expression relaxing your shoulders. It had been hard to imagine that a man with such stature and poise could be so easy-going, but the moment a smile tugged at his lips it was as if his entire being beamed with it.

“I’ve never heard the name Chan before, I like it.” You thought aloud, earning a wide-eyed grin from the man in front of you. It was hard not to allow yourself to stray when a sparkle lit up his gaze; the soft glimmer of something unknown swimming in its brown depths. Its mere presence making it near impossible to cling to your inhibitions, to remain anything but comfortable beneath his stare. 

“Thank you, umm, that’s the first time anyone’s ever told me that.” He practically radiated with warmth–giving the sun beyond the glass a run for its money–now shy gaze lowering to the device in his lap. Your confidence grew at this, the power balance between you shifting in your favour for just a moment. 

“Well, most people are dumb I've learned.” Chan stifled a laugh at this, looking up at you through his lashes in brief acknowledgment before the dull tap of his purposeful actions against his ipad screen stole his attention near instantaneously. 

“Hopefully I can be an exception to that rule.” He quipped back, earning a soft chuckle from you. “So your name is y/f/n, right?” 

“Oh, yeah, sorry, that’s me.” You exhaled a soft breath. Your newfound comfort was enough to simmer your busy brain, but your body had other ideas, hands fiddling with the decorative string of your pastel summer dress while the conversation flowed between you. 

“No, that’s okay. Always better to make sure in case another y/n somehow wandered in.” It was his turn to offer a laugh, the contagious noise a chortle cut off by the push of air from his lungs. Breathy and short-lived, but genuine nonetheless.

“Now that would be a crazy twist of fate.” You humoured him, smile widening with every moment spent in his company. It was inexplicable the manner with which the air around you had changed–as if something magnetic and charged hung within its formless presence. You couldn’t see it, just as you couldn’t see the crisp air expelled from the AC, nor the humid warmth that radiated from the sun, but you could feel it. 

“Truly, stranger things have happened though.” Chan looked up from his ipad, seemingly finished with whatever had occupied his attention. You figured it had been the documents you’d been asked to fill out before your session, pages upon pages of personal information and sexual history now ingrained in the confines of his mind. That was an odd thought to say the least. 

“Ain’t that a fact–did you ever hear about that dude Mike Madman Marcum?” You distracted yourself from the rising discomfort, brain making leaps and bounds toward a vaguely relevant subject in its attempt to retreat. 

“Mike Madman Marcum?” Another exhaled laugh from his nose followed his words, lips parted in a grin that showed his pearly teeth and a glimpse of pink gum. Again the craters grew in the soft dough of his cheeks, expression transformed from unreadable–nearly disinterested–to warm and inviting. 

“Yeah, bro literally invented some sort of black hole, time travel portal shit and then mysteriously disappeared, like what?” You kept talking, brows raised in disbelief as if you hadn’t heard the story spilling from your lips until now.

“That sounds fake.” He shook his head, tipping it to the side afterward in interest. 

“You’d think so but it's true.” You shrugged, ghost of a smile still present. It felt impossible not to have even a slight upturn of your lips around him; about as implausible as a rainy day during an Aus summer. 

“How can you know that?” His laugh grew beyond the point of breathy displays of amusement to a noticeable chuckle.

“It’s a long story but there’s a police report about him and his time machine, bro got run out of his hometown and everything ‘cause of his antics. Then he makes the machine again somewhere else and ends up missing. It’s crazy, truly insane.” You filled him in, fingers still picking at the hem of your dress, out of habit more than nerves now. 

“... You gotta send me that article ‘cause I’m curious not gonna lie.” His response had you tipping your head back in silent laughter, not expecting his genuine interest. 

“Yeah? I’ll email you the podcast I listened to.” You nodded.

“You better ‘cause I'll lose sleep wondering about Mike Madman Marcum otherwise.” Sharing a laugh at his words, you couldn’t help but notice how melodic the different tones sounded together. Almost as if you were harmonising one another’s merriment. It charged the air with a new kind of unseen feeling, almost as if giving what had once been there more fuel.

“Oh, I will. First thing I’ll do when I get back home.” You promised, bottom lip enclosed by your teeth while you fought back your widest grin yet. Was it too much to call that sensibility between you chemistry? Were you the only one aware of the electric buzz that emanated through the air, feeling most active in the space that kept you from one another. 

“Thanks, much appreciated. We should probably get back on track though, don’t wanna waste your money talking about time travel.” He maintained a smile, eyes leaving yours to trail across the brightly lit screen once more. 

“Yeah, sorry, that’s my bad.” You apologised, fingers intertwining with one another to refrain from picking at the stray threads of your dress any longer.

“Don’t even mention it. Are wandering thoughts something that you get often?” He voiced aloud his observation, your shoulders rising slightly as the atmosphere around you changed again. Only, instead of the impalpable gravity that drew you to him, you felt something indiscernible push you backward. 

“All the time.” You admitted, answer short.

“Do you feel that it encroaches on your sex life too?” He cut straight to the chase, your eyes blinking wide as your shoulders grew tense.

“Probably.” You retorted, shifting in your seat.

“Well, let me ask you this then–have you orgasmed before? Either from sex or masturbation?” He sounded so calm despite the words that left his plump lips, meanwhile your heart hammered in your chest, a contrast that felt improper, misplaced even. 

“Oh boy, straight to the big questions… I don’t know. I’m not sure. I don’t think so.” You countered. You’d already given him a list of answers to these questions, and you’d hoped at the time you’d forgo the awkwardness of the current topic as a result. It was clear you weren’t that fortunate, but when had you ever been? 

“What makes you uncertain?” The soft brevardo of his voice kissed the shells of your ears, so gentle and genuine in its delivery that it had you melting all over again.

“I wish I knew. I guess, when I’m having sex, at least, I don’t think I ever have. It’s like I automatically check out and leave my body. When it comes to… myself, I don’t know, that’s more of an unknown. It’s like I feel something but then right as the build comes I just can’t reach the end.” You said, as honest as you could be given the circumstances. Your cheeks were ablaze, heart nearly deafening in its antiphon.

“Okay, well there’s a couple of things to unpack there.” Chan nodded half heartedly, the thin apple pen pressed against the pout of his mouth in thought; eyes trained on the screen where a set of scribbles that made up his short-hand observations lay. 

“Probably above your pay grade.” You joked, though a hint of sincerity simmered beneath the chime of your tone. 

“Nothing is above my pay grade, don't you worry about that.” He offered you a reassuring smile, tongue darting out to wet his lips once more. It distracted you again, forcing you to once more confront the attractiveness of the man supposedly holding all the answers to your problems. “Let’s start with this, have you been to any form of therapy before?”

“Only when I was younger.” You blinked, willing your brain to focus on his words rather than the formation of his mouth as he spoke them.

“What was that for?” He queried, thick accent pulling at the syllables as they left his parted lips.

“My mental health among other things.” You retorted ambiguously, not wanting to ignite that storm within your consciousness. 

“Okay, we don’t have to get into the specifics, that's fine; did you find it helpful?” Chan seemed to pick up on this, you weren’t surprised, of course he would. 

“No, I’m not great with talking about my feelings–I don’t feel like it helps.” You admitted, shoulders slouching and rising in slight discomfort. You felt your foot shift restlessly, suddenly hyper-aware of every movement you made in the leather confines of your prison. 

“So what was your motivation for coming here?” The curious man inquired, no amount of austerity present in his tone. 

“My friend said I should try it, apparently you saved her marriage. She’s the most stubborn person I know so if she can do it I’m guessing I can too.” You were back to making light of the situation, hoping to pull another bright smile from the seriousness that clouded his expression. 

“Glad to hear she found it so beneficial.” You’d been unsuccessful, managing only to ignite a momentary spark within his dark gaze before he was back to scrutinising you, gently still, but profoundly all the same. “So what I’m getting from this is that talking to you about the root cause of things isn’t going to be the most helpful approach for you?” 

“Maybe, I don’t know.” Your voice came out sheepish, body almost crumpling in on itself. You wished you had the answers, wanted nothing more than to be the perfect patient just as he had been the perfect therapist thus far. 

“Well we can always try and go from there? We take a holistic approach to therapy so if one thing isn’t working we’ll switch it up, okay?” The man kept his eyes trained on you, flickering from corner to corner, taking in every nook and cranny of your features until they settled back on your uncertain eyes.

“Sounds good.” You forced a smile, the room around you shrinking in size in anticipation of what was to come. You could feel your mind failing you, the interior of the room transforming into a twisted, swirling haze of unfamiliarity. Of course, you didn’t know the place well, but all at once it didn’t feel as if you knew it at all. Like you’d never been here, like you didn’t remember coming here. As if you weren’t really here at all. 

“The other reason I asked about your history with therapy is that you mentioned leaving your body when you’re engaging in sex with someone–did you ever discuss dissociation or depersonalisation with a therapist in the past?” His voice felt foreign all of a sudden, as if he’d been replaced by someone who looked like him, felt like him, should be him, but wasn’t. 

“I did not.” You murmured, blinking in the hopes you’d return to your prior state of being. 

“This is a little more of a personal question: have you experienced a traumatic event associated with sex or intimacy?” His voice rang in your mind, sounding almost like a bell as it echoed within the confines of your skull. You’d heard what he’d said, but it hadn’t settled enough to register. Instead it kept repeating, your brain trying to make sense of the words strung together, just enough to elicit a response from your parted lips, but not enough to make you remember. 

“Uhh.” You felt like you’d been gawking for an hour, mouth opening and closing as you felt yourself move further and further from you body. 

“Are you okay?” His voice pulled your gaze from the floor to his own pointed stare, those all-consuming pools of dark brown just enough to settle your momentarily. 

“Yeah sorry, this- this is why I don’t find talking very helpful. It's like my brain just shuts down when shit gets real.” You stumbled over your words, fingers pressing against your temple in an attempt to coax your soul–or whatever it was that was retreating in haste–back to your body.

“Don’t apologise for that, you’re okay to react whichever way you need to.” He assured you, your heart dancing to the melodic tune his soft affirmations took on. “It sounds like what you’re experiencing are episodes of dissociation, and, while I can’t diagnose anything, or say for certain that’s what it is, it certainly appears that way. It’s common for people who have difficulties in this area to have a dissociative disorder or experience episodes of dissociation when they’re faced with a trigger.” 

“So my trigger is sex?” You queried, words coming a little easier now. It was as if this feeling, the one he’d named dissociation, came over you in waves. You’d felt choked up, near to the point of drowning, mere moments ago. Now it felt like ripples more than strong currents. 

“Maybe, that’s what we’re going to get to the bottom of. It could also be intimacy, your attachment to others or your own body. There are so many reasons why people feel they can’t cope with a situation, and their brain instinctually shuts itself down.” 

“Okay, I guess it's reassuring knowing my body isn’t broken.” You muttered back, feeling rather deflated by now. The air felt sucked from your lungs, replaced by the salt water of your apparently dissociative episode. It made it hard to breathe, only managing laboured, reluctant breaths as if expecting another wave. 

“Absolutely not, nothing about you is broken, not your body or your brain. Dissociation is a fear, stress or anxiety response; the same as fight or flight. It’s perfectly normal, your brain is just trying to protect itself as it's designed to do.” His smile was back, eyes forming crescents that threatened to conceal his caliginous orbs all together. 

“So, like self-preservation?” You attempted to piece together the sentiments that fell from his lips so easily. Perhaps he really did hold all the answers, and that gave you a sense of belief, or attachment, that suddenly wanted him nearer to you. 

“Exactly!” He beamed, fingers tapping mindlessly atop his meaty thigh. “What I want to start out doing over the next few sessions, however, is to focus on you and your relationship with your body. You should be able to pleasure yourself and know your body well before you trust someone else with that task, right?” 

“That seems okay.” You nodded.

“Right, well we won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, but we’ll start you right from the beginning and we can skip ahead if needs be.” He continued, shifting easily back into the pensive professionalism that hid away his affectionate smiles.

“Alrighty.” Your foot bounced.

“Do you know where the pleasure points are on your body?” His eyes flickered from the ipad in his lap toward your furrowed features.

“I think so.” Your leg joined in the restless dance.

“Go ahead.” He urged, eyes tracing your figure in what you could only assume was acknowledgement of your nervous mannerisms. 

“Oh you want me to- okay- there’s the clit, umm, there’s the nipples and somewhere there’s a g-spot.” You tried to act like the mature, confident adult you surely should be when discussing this topic at your age.

“Yeah, those are the main one’s sure. There’s also your inner thighs, your neck, your lips; some people find the bottom of their feet to be pleasurable, their ears, lower back, armpits–”

“Armpits? That’s a new one.” You cut him off with a surprised laugh, hand coming to cover your mouth as if to emphasise your bewilderment.

“Yeah there’s a lot.” He chuckled, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek “I noticed you said ‘somewhere’ when mentioning your g-spot. Have you ever found it yourself?” Chan asked, eyes darkening as he did so, an outcome you didn’t think possible until now. 

“No, umm, my fingers aren’t very good at all that.” You shifted in your seat, pulling the hem of your dress further down your bare thighs, nails grazing your clammy flesh. 

“Okay, have you used toys?” His voice had dropped an octave, a sound that had the air instantaneously charged again. It was as if the pull was back, but not without the push; both worlds colliding in one disorientating, magnetic combustion. 

“I don’t even know where to start with all that.” You shrugged dismissively. 

“So how do you usually masturbate?” Your mouth grew dry at his words, the hypnotic buzz that seemed to exude from him almost impossible to ignore now. How were you supposed to take his words so lightly? So entirely void of all subtexts and implications when he was staring at you with such heated scrutiny.

“I just… you know… my clit.” It was a miracle he had heard you, you were almost sure you’d been whispering. In the back of your mind you could hear a white noise that sounded like the crashing of waves, almost as if threatening another trip beneath the surface of reality.

“Okay, and does that make you climax?” You focused carefully on his words, using the image of his mouth as it curled around each syllable to guide you from the deep end. That tongue of his, a threat in itself, traced the seam of his bottom lip once more, lingering for a moment too long. 

“I get close but err, I don’t know, I can never get all the way my mind wanders.” Distracting yourself from his plump mouth, you moved your own until a riposte drew from it. 

“Okay, have you tried watching porn to focus your mind?” His response was near immediate, chin balanced on an open palm now as he leaned back in his chair, legs parting, elbow pressing deeper into the armrest.

“No actually, I haven’t.” You retorted, watching him nod gently as if contemplating his next words, long, pretty fingers clutching the pen as it moved across the screen. His hand moved from his chin to his throat, the back and forth motion as his reflexive state persisted an image that would surely haunt you. You’d never noticed that a person’s hands held their own beauty until now, each digit perfect in length and adorned with ridged veins. 

“Alright, well then I think you have your first piece of homework.” He concluded, snapping you out of your day dream and forcing you to draw your eyes away from the sight. You managed a smile, waiting for him to continue. “I’m going to give you a starter toy, then I want you to go home. If you get in the mood, open up a porn site and type in solo female. Find a video that you think is going to be the most relevant to you and then, using your fingers or the toy, follow what the actress is doing in the video.” 

“Right, okay.” You nodded along, thankful that your first session was drawing to an end. However, the prospect of an at-home-assignment was one that brought a new wave of uncertainty. 

“Don’t be nervous, it’s just you and the video. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work and that’s okay.” His smile was back, stature adjusting as he placed the ipad aside, both palms planting themselves atop his thighs. 

“Uh huh.” You were distracted, but you’d heard him, contemplating his words with a degree of skepticism. 

“What’s making you anxious?” He asked, and on one hand you wanted to blurt out ‘you’. It truly was a challenge all in itself to hear him speak about such a personal topic while he unconsciously made every action attractive and impassioned. From the flicker of his brow, to the rise and fall of his chest, you’d gone from hyper-aware of yourself to hopelessly unable to pull your eyes from his motions. 

“I don’t know, guess I’m just not good at trying new things when it comes to this–I feel like I’m setting myself up for failure.” You admitted, the rise of his brows enough to have you wishing you’d kept it to yourself. That thought didn’t last though, not when the words that followed lulled your anxiety in a way never knew it could be. 

“Failure doesn’t exist in this sphere, you cannot fail, only try and then if you want to, try again.” He leaned forward in his chair, less relaxed in his posture as he grinned at you encouragingly. 

“Right, yeah. I don’t know. I feel like your positivity is so infectious but the moment I get home I’ll just be stuck overthinking again.” You chuckled, an undercurrent of nervousness pulling the whimsy from your tone. 

“Well, why don’t I give you my work number and if you get nervous and need me to talk you down you can call me, yeah?” His assurances continued, palm reaching into the pocket of his cropped suit trousers. 

“Are you sure?” You blinked at him, leaning down to pry at the strap of your trusty tote bag.

“Of course, whatever you need–I’m here.” He gleamed, and with the way he was looking at you so intently, you could tell he meant it. 

The moment you’d gotten home you’d done as promised, sending the podcast via email before opening pornhub preemptively to get ahead of your ‘homework’. It was intimidating to say the least, even more so when the toy Chan had given you sat beside your laptop caught your gaze. The box called it a G-Spot Vibrator, at one time concealing the long, slightly curved pink device from view. Now the vibrator led there, taunting you with its unfamiliarity as your gaze shifted to and from the screen of the laptop. Eventually you chucked in your desk drawer defiantly, fixing your attention on the brightly lit screen to begin scrolling through the wealth of videos. You couldn’t decide on one, none of them seemed to match your skill level; their wrists expertly shiting fancy looking toys in a thrusting motion while their bodies shook and convulsed with over exaggerated pleasure. It was off putting, almost taunting the manner with which they played up every action and sound.

It didn’t take long for you to lose interest, opting to go about your evening as normal instead. Easily the events of the day became background noise as you took care of the needs you struggled with far less than. By the time you’d finished your skincare you were crashing down in front of the couch, mind wandering back to the soft spoken man who’d assigned you such vexatious and troublesome homework. A drama played on low volume in the backdrop of your thoughts, your mind's eye picturing the way your therapist's tongue had travelled across his plump bottom lip. It was miraculous how you’d so easily managed to commit every part of him to memory. You could see him as clearly as the ceiling above you, his veiny hands tightening around his thighs while his dark eyes both provoked and lulled your anxiety. You didn’t realise the extent of his intoxicating stare until you were without it, nor the heat with which it took in every detail of your face as you did his.

Before you knew what you were doing your fingers had begun shifting toward your already hard nipples, one hand covering your t-shirt clad breast. You squeezed softly, head falling further back against the sofa with your eyes now tightly shut. Your free hand skimmed lower, tugging the hem of your oversized shirt to cup your bare flesh. The action of your open palm squeezing against your clit and dampening hole was enough to have your thrusting gently upwards. What a dilemma that the very person who was supposed to be helping you pleasure yourself had become the object of it. The mere thought had you huffing in disbelief–just your luck. 

Deciding to distract yourself you seized the opportunity to do the homework you’d been assigned. Getting up, you trudged the short distance to your desk, grabbing your laptop and the vibrator before returning to the sofa in haste. Your fingers continued tugging at your nipple, electric sparks travelling straight to your core. You kept the drone of the tv on as you clicked play on one of the videos, muting the sound to focus on the girl's actions. That earlier worked up feeling died down somewhat as you mimicked her movements. Taking the vibrator in your mouth you sucked on it stiffly, allowing your tongue to press against the base of it as you wet the velvet soft device. You should’ve known better though, then to think your mind could focus just because you willed it to. Instead, you began to wonder, deliberating whether Chan’s hard cock would feel this heavy between your lips; the thought drawing a hum from your stuffed mouth as you tried to concentrate on the video.

You felt yourself grow soaked at the image of your sex therapist pushing his member further past your lips, the tip of it entering your throat while he exhaled grunts. You thanked the heavens when the actress removed the toy from her mouth, switching the vibration on to press it against her clit. You did the same, body jolting at the unfamiliar feeling. You tried to keep up with her motions, alternating between teasing your soaked entrance with the toy and rubbing it against your clit. Your pleasure came and went as you did so, your clumsy movements trying to keep up with her own. You felt yourself grow frustrated as you did so, mind aching to return to the image of Chan using your mouth. 

Your head lulled back at the thought of his hand clutching your hair with those big, veiny fingers, pushing your head down against his cock until your nose met his muscular flesh. Your eyes glazed over, the video no longer in focus as you fixated on the memory of his slender digits. They were so long and shaped in such a way that you were certain, in your imagination at least, they’d have no problem fucking you open. Neither an issue finding your g-spot; bringing you to a satisfying climax again and again until your body begged him to give you a moment to recover. You could picture it now: his large body hovering above you, one hand pushing you against the mattress to keep you still while the other pistoned his skilled fingers in and out of your gushing pussy. You knew you’d surely be convulsing like the girls in porn did, hips unable to keep still despite his heavy palm.

The movie playing behind your closed lids was enough to have you more worked up than you’d ever been before. You pressed the vibrator into your entrance letting it linger before you thrust it past your walls, leaving yourself no time to prep like the man in your imagination refused to. He touched you with an air of impatience, desperation even, as if he’d deprived himself of you for too long; torturing himself with the thought of how you’d feel constricting around his rock hard length. You marvelled at the way his cock would feel spreading you open deliciously. You imagined his member to be as veiny as his arms, the ridges pushing against your spongy walls sending a new type of wave throughout your body. No disconnection, no retreating. Just the crashing of ecstasy that was building up with every desperate push of the vibrator. Moans fell from your lips as you thrust the toy in and out, the length of it brushing blissfully against your clit every few motions. You pictured the push of his hips against yours, the feeling of his breath against your clammy skin and the melodic muse of his groans. You just knew your moans would sound perfect together; as harmonious as your chorused laughter.

It felt so fucking sinful fucking yourself with the toy he’d given you, imagining him in place of it. The revelation had your high approaching and your walls tightening as you tried to push yourself over the finish line. It felt like a knot, or a rubber band, constricting and pulling until it threatened to snap. You tried to imagine him circling your clit with his soaked fingers, his teeth latching at your throat as he painted plum coloured hues against your skin. You kept your frenzied motions up–thrusting and rubbing in desperation to cum–but the band never snapped. The knot coming undone as your stamina reached its limit. You felt overstimulated, but without the post-orgasm floods of pleasure that should surely be wracking your body. Instead, you just felt tired, defeated even. 

You’d usually give up, the magic of the moment gone with the disappointment that overtook it. This time around, though, you were still endlessly frustrated. You wanted release so badly. Your hand pushed the toy back into your needy pussy as you let your mind wander back to the therapist clouding your mind with lust. This time, he coaxed you through it sweetly, whispering reassuring words in your ear as he took his time thrusting his fingers in and out of your hole. That dark gaze captivated you again. You imagined the way it would scrutinise you once more, peering up at your spent form as he trailed kisses down the valley of your plump breasts; close to where his busy fingers worked you open. Your imagination had you near sweet release again, the image of his plump lips latching at your clit was enough to have your back arching as you tried desperately to cum. 

Cruelly, despite your best efforts, the blissful feeling died out like the embers of a long forgotten fire. The feeling becoming duller and duller till the pleasurable light flickered out for the last time. You let out a whine of defeat, chest heaving as you caught your breath before trying again. You tried, and you tried, but no matter how many times you thrust the vibrating device in and out of your puffy cunt you ended up exhausted and disappointed. Realising it wasn’t going to happen, you got up with glossy eyes, tears lining their brim as you wobbled over to the desk. You found your phone discarded by the vibrators packaging, the sudden igniting of the screen reminding you of its presence. Reminding you of your plan b. 

You didn’t expect him to pick up, thumb between your lips as you chewed anxiously at your nail. By the third ring he did, though, your eyes widening not only at his quick response, but how real the situation suddenly felt. What were you doing? Had you actually called him? You had. That became abundantly clear the moment his voice filled the silence the call tone had left behind. “Hello?” The octave sounded a little rougher than it had during your appointment, leaving you suddenly panicked that you might’ve woken him up. Your eyes darted towards the time on your laptop’s screensaver 8:12pm visible in big letters.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, did I wake you up?” You quickly blurted out, back straightening in anticipation of his response.

“Oh hey, no you didn’t don’t worry. I was just listening to that podcast actually.” The strain in his voice dissipated, replaced instead by an enthusiastic tone. 

“Really?” Your hesitance was gone, the swirling of something close to affection beginning to churn in the pit of your stomach. It reminded you of that prior unseen tension between you, the kind that felt like a perfect storm; a destiny playing out in a beautiful collision.  

“Yeah, shit’s insane…” He trailed off, the muted clattering of background noise leaving you no clues as to what he could be up to. You wondered briefly how he spent his time when he wasn’t cooped up in his office. Did he frequent a bar? Maybe the gym? Did he have a favourite takeout spot? Or did he have a book of recipes he flicked through every night? Maybe he spent his time much the same way you did, curled up on the sofa with a show you only half-paid attention to. 

“I know right, it’s wild.” You agreed, pushing the far-too-domestic thoughts out of your mind. 

“Right? He just disappeared off the face of the earth.” Chan exclaimed, the distant, indistinguishable noises fading to a settled silence. “So, are you okay? Did your homework go okay?”

“Actually, that’s why I’m calling.” You admitted, growing a little sheepish at the turn in conversation. You couldn’t tell if you were flustered because of the subject matter, or because your cunt still throbbed and ached in desperate anticipation of something that would seemingly never come. 

“Sure, what’s the matter?” He spoke, voice level as always.

“I tried to do the porn thing but I don’t know, I just felt way too uncoordinated and ended up getting distracted. But, like, this time it was a good kind of distraction and I got close so many times but I just couldn’t cum.” The recollection of your disappointing evening had you shuffling in your seat, the friction of your bare clit against the couch setting your over-sensitive body alight. You got a bit more comfortable, squeezing your legs together in the hopes the pressure would lull the ache. It didn’t, it seemed nothing would. Nothing except an outcome that you couldn’t attain. 

“Okay, well that’s a positive development, right? You tried something new, it didn’t work but you gave it a really good go, yeah? You should feel proud.” His positive disposition had once filled you with so much assurance, but right now, it did nothing but taunt you. No shit it didn’t work, you were practically throbbing with desire, desperate for release. 

“Right, yeah, I guess so.” You muttered.

“Did you try the toy?” At the mention of the vibrator–still close to you on the sofa–you felt a knot form in the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure how, in your frantic mind, you’d figured that having a sexually-charged conversation with your very attractive sex therapist was going to help your situation. Right now, it only worsened it tenfold. 

“I did.” You retorted shortly. 

“Did it feel good?” You felt like your ears were playing tricks on you. Could’ve sworn his usually balanced voice wavered with something unknown. You wanted to call it restraint, but you knew that was surely your desires playing out in your mind; your current disposition plaguing all reason. He was good at that–consuming every part of you–and you were starting to think that was exactly what you needed. To be consumed. To not be able to have a single sense focused on anything but him. 

“Uh, umm, yeah.” You felt your situation growing exponentially worse, body shifting again in a fruitless attempt at distracting yourself from the heavy throb between your thighs. You hadn’t even realised you’d managed a response, not until he was talking again, offering that same assurance that still held little weight. 

“That’s another positive step, maybe we can give you more toys to try out to see if there’s one that can help you finish.” 

“Uh huh.” You hummed, head pressing against the sofa, free hand skimming your bare thighs. You knew you couldn’t do anything about your situation, not with Chan on the phone, but frustratingly, you knew you couldn’t do anything about it without him either. It was a cruel catch 22; sit here and squirm beneath the mundane distraction his sentiments provided, or try and get yourself off again and again to the image of him in your head. 

“Are you okay?” He seemed to pick up on your absentminded demeanour, pitch raising in slight concern.

“Just… frustrated. I’m open to trying more things but, like, I’m just… what about now?” You admitted, perhaps if you were honest about his situation he’d know the right thing to say. The perfect affirmation that would finally have you climaxing after years of pent up frustration.

“Oh… right. So when you say frustrated…?” He attempted to connect the dots, your eyes squeezing shut as you released a huff.

“I’m really fucking desperate to cum.” You spoke bluntly, the hand that sat at your thigh itching to circle your clit. The thought alone had your hips rising in ecstasy, eyes rolling back as you imagined your fingers strumming your sensitive nub in a frenzied attempt to cum. You’d have to keep quiet, you wouldn’t want your sex therapist to know you were trying to orgasm to the sound of his perfectly innocent intimate questions “Chan?” You questioned, when silence followed.

“Yeah, sorry, umm, just thinking.” He seemed distant now, and you suddenly regretted being so honest. Had you crossed a line? Well of course you had, many in fact. You hated that justifications followed suit; so surely you can cross one more, right? To give your clit that attention it so desperately wanted.

“Am I hopeless? Is there nothing I can do right now?” You asked in defeat, the ache almost painful beneath your continued resistance. 

“You’re not hopeless, no– okay…” He started to speak, still sounding much different than he had moments ago. “I don’t usually do this, I’m not supposed to do this, but, if you want I can, umm, I can help you?” There was hesitance in his tone, uncertainty wrapped up in every syllable; leaking through each word the same way your cunt gushed at the prospect of his statement.

“Help me?” You uttered, not daring to believe he could mean what you thought he did. 

“Like guide you.” Oh, you thought. So he meant exactly that. The man of your prior fantasies wanted to talk you through your masturbation. If you thought your desperation had reached maximum capacity before, then you were certain you were at the breaking point now. Your pussy clenched around nothing, whole body suddenly heavy with thick hot lust as you managed a response.

“O-Okay.”

“Yeah, you want that?” He was back to sounding level again, and how he could be in this situation you didn’t know. You didn’t care, though, not when your deprived cunt was about to get abused once again.

“Yeah, so bad.” Your voice no longer hid your frantic state, hips rising from the sofa, hand reaching between your thighs to ghost over your sensitive clit in an attempt to feel any relief.

“Mm fuck, okay.” Whatever professionalism he’d mustered up had quickly faltered, something close to a groan falling from his lips. “We can stop whenever you want to, I only wanna help you with this if you’re comfortable with it.” Before you could register his new state, however, the collected therapist was back. You questioned your sanity, were you hearing things now? Your mind conjuring mirages of your hot therapist moaning in your ear as he got you off. Fuck you wanted to touch yourself so bad.

“I want your help, Chan.” You confirmed, gnawing at your bottom lip as you ran a finger through your soaked folds, digit quickly growing sticky, body jolting from the small amount of contact.

“You sound so strained, gonna help you okay?” His voice held promise, and your eyes practically rolled into the back of your head at the prospect of finally cumming. 

“Please.” You begged, restraint completely vanished along with any shame you might’ve felt about sounding so unbelievably desperate.

“You still wearing that pretty little dress?” His voice dropped an octave, his ability to stay unphased broken up by bouts of what you could only surmise was his body betraying him. 

“No, just a t-shirt” You responded, mewls falling from your lips at the prospect of him being affected by your insatiable lust.

“Nothing else?” Chan questioned.

“Just the shirt.” You confirmed, finger circling your gushing hole as you awaited your sign to begin pleasuring yourself properly. 

“Take it off for me, drag the fabric against your skin nice and slow. You doing that for me?” To your dismay, he had other plans, his request to take your time sending every one of your nerves into overdrive. You did as you were told, though, too turned on by the current events playing out to rush through it.

“Yeah.”

“Good, give your breasts special attention; squeeze them together, let the rough part of the fabric stimulate your nipples.” You followed his commands, putting your phone on loud speaker by your head to squeeze your breasts together; the fabric against your sensitive nipples sending waves of pleasure straight to your desperate pussy. 

“When your shirt is off, bring your fingers to your mouth and get them nice and wet. You doing it baby?” Behind closed lids your senses were heightened, the sound of his voice from the speaker–so close to your ear–jolting your forward. Leaving your breasts alone for the moment, you removed the thin clothing, the air of your cool apartment stimulating your bare skin in a way that had your head spinning. 

“Mhm.” You moaned loudly at the nickname, mouth stuffed with your fingers as you sucked on them. You were reminded of your earlier imaginings, the thought of his cock between your lips instead of your fingers pulling another pitchy groan from you.

“You like it when I call you that?” He asked, not waiting for a response before he continued. “Good, such a good girl, so responsive. Suck on your fingers till they’re nice and coated then I want you to play with your nipples okay?” You were frustrated at the pace he’d set, brows furrowed as you let strings of spit coat your fingers, hips continuously jolting as if trying to beg for your attention. 

You couldn’t help the moans that spilled from your lips at the state you were in, cool air stimulating your already needy clit as you rubbed your soaked digits over your nipples. You played with them harshly, almost annoyed at the pent up feeling that grew and grew. With each pinch your pussy clenched around nothing, the emptiness reminding you of what you wanted there most; his cock. 

“You sound so good, fuck, doing so well.” His resolve crumbled again, a huff of air the only release he could manage. “Take your time with yourself, okay?” Chan sounded strained now, the level part of him gone, replaced only by a man pushing his patience to unseen limits.

“It’s too much, wanna touch myself properly.” You whined, wetting your fingers some more to continue playing with your breasts. 

“You’ll get there baby, don’t worry, not gonna leave your pretty pussy neglected.” Another desperate moan fell from your lips, noises carelessly flowing from you with complete disregard for your neighbours let alone the man on the other end of the phone. “You like that? Like me calling your pussy pretty? Mmm, I bet it is. I know it is.” 

“Hmpf, Chan, please.”

“Ohmygod.” His ability to maintain level-headedness was slipping with every sound that fell from your lips. You sounded incredible, mind racing with vivid images of your legs spread, pretty fingers prying feverishly at your swollen nipples. “How does it feel baby?” He questioned, feeding his own thoughts more than yours with this request.

“Good but not enough, want more.” Your hips rose and fell, so unable to continue just playing with your plump tits when your aching, needy cunt was pleading with you to touch it.

“Okay baby, go slow, leave one hand playing with your nipples and let the other one start trailing down your body. Make sure you give every part of yourself attention, squeeze at your thighs, graze your tummy with your nails; do whatever feels best.” You released a sigh of relief, glad to finally be moving on from your top half. 

“I’m doing it.” You murmured, trying to follow his direction as best you could. However, your hand skimmed your flesh clumsily, hurriedly, squeezing at your thighs to keep them pressed against the couch.

“Good girl, brush over your clit when you get there, okay? use your finger to push through your folds and spread your juices over your clit.” You did exactly that, digits instantly drenched in the sticky, wet mess soaking the sofa beneath you. Your entire body moved in haste, pushing your fingers between your pussy lips and up to your clit over and over, hips thrusting with them. 

“Ah, fuck, that feels so good Chan!” You couldn’t control yourself anymore, moan after moan spilling from your gaping mouth as you repeated the motion.

“Yeah? fucking hell– sound so pretty, darling. Start circling your clit when you’re nice and soaked and make sure to give your entrance some attention too, okay?” 

“Yeah, okay, god so good.” You mewled when the tips of your fingers prodded teasingly at your clenching hole. With every tightening of your pussy a new stream of sticky cum would gush onto your fingers, coating them deliciously for your sensitive clit’s unquenchable thirst for more.

“You doing that?”

“I think so.” You whined, near sobbing by now. 

“Describe it for me.” He insisted, tone low with a growing impatience.

“I’m rubbing my clit with two fingers, now I’m moving them down and pushing the tips in.” You recited your motions, repeating each step with a thrust of your hips and a squirm of your limbs.

“Good, that’s good. Keep doing that for me until you’re ready and then I want you to get the toy I gave you.” His commands continued, the only thing keeping you grounded in this moment of uncontrollable, desperation for release. 

“Alright. I already f-feel close.” You moaned, that tight feeling growing expanding, filling the empty place you wanted Chan to most.

“Drag it out baby, take your time.” His words drew a frustrated sob from you, eyes screwing even tighter shut as you circled your clit furiously. 

“I wanna cum so bad though.” You cried, tears streaking your cheeks as your hips moved at their own accord.

“You’re gonna cum, baby, i’m gonna make you cum– fuck.” At his promise, you reluctantly pulled your hand away, blindly reaching for the vibrator. The moan that punctuated his sentence had a wave of arousal washing over you again. 

“Are you touching yourself too?” You asked, the mere thought causing your cunt to clench in a way it never had. You bet he looked incredible with his fist wrapped around his cock, fucking his closed hand with the same amount of disregard you showed your sensitive nub.

“No. This is about you.” He broke your illusion, a whine falling from you lips. 

“I’m getting the toy, what should I do with it, sir?” You clutched the vibrator, pressing it against your clit in anticipation of his next request. “Chan?” You spoke after a beat in time. 

“Uh huh, yeah, fuck, sorry I’m still here.” Whatever thread of resolve he’d been clinging onto desperately was audibly gone. He sounded like a man starved. As if he himself was beginning to understand the torture you must be feeling to be deprived of sweet release the way he currently was. 

“You sound good when you moan, can you do it again?” You pleaded, using the toy to circle your clit as you waited for him to comply.

“Mhm, yeah like this baby?” Chan didn’t disappoint, the sounds spilling from his lips sending jolt after jolt of mind-numbing pleasure straight to your core. “You like that, huh?”

“Yeah so much.” You moaned, rubbing the toy up and down your soaked folds; punishing your neglected hole with the velvety tip.

“God, so fucking hot, bet you look so good right now.” Chan seemed on a not-so-slow descent into madness, his palms no doubt twitching in place as yours had earlier, wanting nothing more than to palm his hard cock through his clothes. “Turn the vibrator on and do the same as earlier; give your clit and your hole special attention.” 

“I’m so close, sir” You moaned, fingers fumbling with the button until the default vibration setting turned on. “Please can I fuck myself with it? Feel so empty clenching around nothing.” 

“Fucking hell, your tight little pussy wants to get fucked so bad, yeah?” He moaned, so loudly that it almost felt like he was right there in the room with you.

“More than anything, please.” You pleaded, hips back to moving at their own accord as you circled your entrance with the vibrating toy.

“You sound fucking incredible begging for me like this baby–such a good little slut–so obedient.” his growls filled the air around you, cunt clenching at the image of his gritted teeth and clenched jaw. Gone was the pretty smile and the dimpled cheeks, no doubt replaced by a solemn expression and distant stare as his own mind busied itself with visuals of your submissive form.

“If I keep being good will you touch yourself with me?” You pleaded, tone wavering beneath the chorus of moans that flew from your lips with every exhale of breath.

“A-are you sure?” He stuttered, caught off guard by your comment. If you’d asked him to do this at the start of your call, he’d give you a categorical no. Now, though, beneath the heavy haze of lust, and battling with the feeling of painfully stiff cock confined beneath his work clothes, he could only comply eagerly. 

“Yeah, please, wanna hear you moan some more.” Your voice was starting to break now, tip of the vibrator pushing further and further past your walls with every flick of your hand. You pictured how he must look, strong hand clasping desperately at his poor neglected cock; not even bothering to remove his clothes entirely before he was circling the base with his first.

“Fuck this is so wrong. God if only you could see what you’re doing to me.” Chan sounded like heaven, puffs of air exhaling from his lips as small grunts filled the room. He was no longer moaning for your entertainment alone, no, instead the noises were accompanied by the wet sounds of his fist stroking his length feverishly.

“Mmm I wish, wish it was you fucking me right now.” Not a lie, either. Your head couldn’t settle on one script to stick to: him jerking off uncontrollably or you bouncing on his cock. The latter would be quite the scene, pussy gushing around his pulsing member as you rode him with haste. His hands planted firmly at your hips to spur you on. You imagined it must feel blissful to feel his palms clasping at your body, keeping you grounded, reminding you the best things weren’t hiding in the corners of your mind but right here in reality. 

“Baby, fuck, don’t say that.” Chan grunted again, sounds broken up by moans and curse words. “You fucking yourself nice and slow, yeah?” 

“Yeah, not enough.” You sobbed, drying tear tracks repainted with fresh salty tears.

“So greedy, such a spoiled little pussy, does it wanna be fucked hard and rough?” His voice couldn’t find an octave, one moment it was deep, controlling almost in its approach to commanding your every move. The next it reached new heights, pitchy moans interjecting each breathless word. You liked this, felt like you were adding new polaroid pictures to a scrapbook keep-sake. Finding new things to add to a growing collection of moments you’d replay over and over again in your mind. You were good at that, fixating on one situation good or bad, thinking about it from every angle until the edges of it became frayed and aged. Until it lost all meaning; all feeling.

“Want you to ruin it.” You could barely form words by now, you wanted nothing more than to quicken your pace. You wouldn’t though, not without his word. There was something so hot about doing what your therapist told you to, even if he couldn’t see you, nor hold you accountable if you misbehaved. You wanted to be his good girl, his favourite patient; the only one who could corrupt him into breaking every rule he swore he’d keep. Maybe it was the power in an otherwise powerless dynamic that had you so hot on bothered, but really, truly, that didn’t feel like the perfect fit. 

There was something about him, you couldn’t describe it. You could only remember how electric the air around you had felt, how badly you wanted to let yourself be pulled into his orbit, to centre him in every aspect of your life until he was the only thing that remained. All consumed, entirely taken up by him. Every crack in your broken mind filled with him, and his voice, and his promises to fix you. It was so undeniably unethical, let alone wishful thinking. You knew you were latching onto him, your next fixation, your special interest.

“Shit, you know I can’t do that, gonna have to learn to do it yourself.” His words reminded you just how hopeless your new infatuation was. Lust and affection were two different things, not mutually exclusive, in fact rarely hand-in-hand. Chan was trying to help, he took pity on you, right? Sure, somewhere along the way his cock had ended up in his fist, moans spilling from him like a pot left to boil too far too long. But that was a happy accident, an inevitability when you were moaning like a pornstar in his ear. 

You were losing focus again. God, who knew your distraction would become a distraction from himself. But just as you’d begun to run out of momentum, mind conjuring up anxious thoughts and momentary bouts of shame intermingled with embarrassment, his voice sliced through the noise. “Pick up the pace for me, keep going, keep fucking yourself like a slut if that’s what baby girl wants.”  

“So close. I-I’m fuck, fuck, so close.” You clenched around the vibrating device, the loud groans emanating from your phone’s speaker pushing you closer and closer to the edge. An edge… now that was new. Usually you felt a tightening in the pit of your stomach, an indescribable pressure that wanted to be released. But this felt more like a building of something that was destined to end in you reaching an undiscovered depth; the deepest darkest part of an ocean you’d yet to explore. 

“Yeah? You sound so fucking hot baby, you gonna cum for me? gonna cum for sir like an obedient little whore?” The filth that was spewing from his lips so easily had your mind racing in an entirely new way. You couldn’t keep up with your body anymore, vibrator plunging in and out of your abused hole as if running on a motor. The space around you smelled like sweat paired with the sweet scent of your cum; the sounds of your wet pussy battling to be heard above your shrill moans.

“Want you to cum with me, you gonna cum with me sir?” You spoke between pants.

“I’ll cum with you, yeah, that’s so hot– I can hear how soaked you are, bet you’re making such a mess baby.” His groans did indeed sound perfect in harmony with your own, you’d been right about that. 

“Would feel so good creaming your cock with my cum.” you murmured, biting down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from screaming. 

“Ahhh, fuck, fucking hell I’m gonna cum.” He stammered and you could hear so clearly the sounds of skin slapping against skin. You could tell, even through the phone that his release was already leaking from the top of his angry head, every thrust of his fist wet. You could practically taste the salt of his cum on your tongue, the image of him dumping its entirety in your wide, eager mouth enough to have your hips spasming uncontrollably. 

“Yeah? Me too, please, please.” You felt your body teeter so close to the edge you almost lost the ability to thrust the vibrator in and out of your desperate hole.

“That’s it, good girl– fuck– fuck yourself so good like you know I would.” It would appear that in his near-climax haze Chan had given up on the idea of not buying into your fantasy of fucking him. You liked to think he’d reached the point of complete inhibition, no longer able to keep up the facade. That perhaps he wanted your cunt just as badly as you wanted to feel his cock rammed deep inside you, tip prodding against your cervix with every well-timed thrust. “Would treat that pussy so well, yeah, would fuck you so well baby, fuck.” He was babbling now, barely indistinguishable beneath the sounds of wet fist fucking.

“Please, please.” Was all the words you could muster, so close now that you felt yourself being pushed from the edge you’d been almost afraid to fall from, vibrator hitting your spongy walls at just the right angle to have your toes curling and your body heaving. 

“Keep going baby, keep going. Imagine it's me, yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” Chan kept talking, seemingly unable to keep his desires pent up any longer as he too reached the edge. “Bet you’d love it, fuck such a good girl, taking my cock so well–you’d feel so good, tight cunt wrapped around me.” He was relentless now, words sending jolts of hot pleasure straight to your already overstimulated pussy. 

“Be the only man to make you cum, you know I can.” He continued, barely able to get the words out between broken moans, each one louder than the next. “Gonna make your cunt mine baby, yeah, you want that don’t you? I’ll treat you so good don’t worry; i’ll take good care of your desperate little pussy.” The possessive growl he let out, paired with the absolutely sinful rambles he couldn’t seem to stop from spilling out of him, was more than enough to send you tumbling from the edge. You were rendered near immobile, white light breaking through the darkness behind your closed lids. Your hips shook, every limb twitching and seizing until all feeling returned. 

You hadn’t even noticed you’d been moaning his name, over and over until your voice was hoarse and your throat felt raw. You could feel every part of you grow stiff, chest heaving as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. One second you were pushing the toy in and out of your clenching hole, the next you lost all control of your body. It was easy to see why they called it little death, that feeling of going into a place filled with light, a place that threatened no return. No way to flee back to the safety of normalcy. It was a contrast to his dark gaze, the one that consumed you in the same way. It was like fire and ice, light and dark, yin and yang. So entirely wrong but right.

“Ah, you came, fuck, yeah, you’re so– god, I’m cumming too, fuck.” You realised then, as you caught your breath, listening to the sounds of his own release play through the speaker, that you didn’t want to return to normalcy at all. You wanted the light, you wanted the dark, you wanted both of them at once. No, not want; need. 

You needed the dark to find the light. You needed him. 

<< back to dash // next episode >>

tag list: @mangojellyyy • @diekleinesuesse

A/N: this was made to celebrate the 100 followers milestone so thank you so much to everyone who has been a part of that. this one's for yous <3

hope you enjoyed my first written fic! this was semi-unedited so if there are any major errors let me know. haven't done smut in a long time so fingers crossed it was okay lmao. there will be another episode but not any time soon, please see "genre" for more details.

[gldrushh]

GUILTY AS SIN | JK

"You are stuck in time, and Jungkook doesn't stop running from it until he eventually does, and you learn that grief doesn’t wait for death, that love isn't all that dignifying."

→ Pairing brother in law!Jungkook × widowed fem!reader

→ Genre forbidden love! au, childhood friends to lovers, angst, smut

→ W.C 17. 32k

→ Warnings unrequited love :(, oc is in love with his older brother, early character death of the said older brother who is haunting the narrative, cute childhood sweethearts who are doomed by me, mentions of dealing with grief and acceptance, mention of cancer, a minor scene where harassment is attempted,emotionally troubled! oc, emotionally troubled and detached! jk, simp jk, pathetic man in love, he's so so lovesick, ceo! jk, protective jk, yearning, pining, loads of angst, fluff if you squint, breif yoongi mention, namjin yay!!,rich people party, mentions of anxiety,sexual tension,slow burnish,smut (omg everyone look away), kissing, unprotected sex (raw and deep, next question),dirty talking, oc is insecure,hickies,oral (f! Receiving), he cums in his pants,big dick jk, soft Dom Jungkook, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie, praise, cuddles if you squint again

→ Playlist Guilty as sin, control, killing me softly with his song, do I wanna know?

→ A/N the idea of this one shot came to me at 1 am when I was supposed to be studying for a test that probably my future depends upon and after much much complementing I'm finally posting it. To me, its very experimental and I was just trying to explore my writing style and writing things that I haven't before, like smut 🫠 so please please bear that in mind!! I hope you enjoy reading and if you did please comment!! It makes my whole day 🥰💕💕

P.S: cross posted on wattpad.

It is a believed fact that it takes three to four short months to fall in love. 

For you, it took one summer. The summer spent watching him sketch galaxies in the dirt with a twig, summer spent learning the way his laughter sounded after stealing popsicles from the freezer, summer spent holding his hand as they made paper planes under the blazing sun. It was the kind of love that grew roots so deep, you couldn’t separate where he ended and you began.

That summer, you met Minho. The boy next door with a mind as wild as his curls and a heart so warm it seemed to shine blindingly bright. He showed you how to climb trees, told stories he'd crafted all by himself, convincing you that the universe could be held in the palm of your hand. He shared his world with you, and you fell in love with it.

You kissed his cheek on the porch of your house one late July evening, bold and brimming with the kind of confidence only childhood summers could bring. “Now you’re gonna have to marry me, Min Min,” you teased, hands behind your back, your toes curling against the wooden floorboards.

He blushed, a shade of red that rivaled the setting sun, but his grin mirrored yours.

The porch of your house was a witness to many things. Your first steps, held your first scraped knees, your first dog and Minho's new brother; your new friend.

A boy of your age, younger than Minho had appeared from right behind him, his hands clutching onto Minho's flannel, his watchful eyes going everywhere all at once. The kind of boy who never spoke unless he had to, the kind who was more familiar with loss than comfort, lingering on the edges of things, unsure if he belonged.

Jungkook.

Now, Jeon Jungkook.

You and his brother had taken it upon themselves to bring him into your fold, turning your duo into a trio. With time, he laughed with you both, trusted you both, became one of you both.

The three of you were inseparable— in the backyard of your house, in elementary school, in high school. How could you not be? You had tied the promise in the form of handmade friendship bracelets around the wrist of both boys.

Even though what you wanted with minho was far from friendship. A bold dreamer, you always have been. But not so much when you turned sixteen. Sixteen; what a awkward age.

An age of overthinking haircuts, dreams, and the lives your peers are gonna live all at once. Visits to the school councilor are doubled. Relationships happen; Friends part.

But you only grew closer with Jungkook. He didn’t seemed interested in making a move on the timid, short haired girl who passed him notes in chemistry class, neither did he talk much about the future. When you asked him what he wanted to do, he’d shrug and say something like, “Whatever makes sense at the time.” He wasn’t aimless, exactly—just grounded in a way that made you think he didn’t feel the need to plan everything out.

Minho, though, was spiraling.

He now spent more time with the councilor that he spent with you both. Had this bitter look on his face every morning you saw him on the bus stop that will have you sharing a knowing look with Jungkook—Minho had been having a lot of fights with his dad, had been overthinking a lot more because the world seemed so much bigger than he had imagined.

Maybe for the eldest son and heir to a family that ran a company as old as the town itself, the world really was big. But to you, he was just a hopeful boy with all the colors in his eyes. The colors that you loved. The colors that didn't belong in a office, crunching numbers.

Your heart ached for him, but you didn’t know what to say. At sixteen, nobody has the answers.

Seventeen is a different story. It's a starlight dream. It's you acing the college entrance test. It's Minho surfacing back. It's Minho kissing you on that very same porch, promising, “One day, we’ll have our own porch, and I’ll kiss you there every day.”

And he was one to keep his promises.

You married him at twenty-five, in crisp autumn. To your family and friends, it was "About time." To you, it was nothing short of a dream as you walked to promise forever to the man you love, a vision in white. It was nothing big, just a dreamy intimate affair with soft twinkling string lights. Something you both agreed on. Because you were content with what you had, overjoyed actually after picking out a quite cozy apartment for the both of you and landing a job as a humanities professor in a university that wasn't too far from the said apartment. Minho was too and while things weren't the same with his father now, he did what he loved. Ever the artist at heart.

It was like everything you ever wrote in your middle school diary, everything you wished for was now laid under your feet like a carpet unfolding.

You were given a good time before it started pulling away from your feet.

At first, it was subtle. A missed dinner here, a canceled hangout there. Then he told you both he’d taken up an opportunity abroad to manage the family business, something Minho had no interest in, just on the night of your wedding after he had fulfilled his role of the groom's best man, watched you walk down the aisle.

You hadn’t seen the decision coming—not that night, not like this—but you couldn’t deny it either. Jungkook had seemed restless here, especially after finishing college.Conversations with him in those days had been brief, distracted, his eyes darting to the distance even as he smiled at you. It felt as you were trying to talk to the Jungkook who had appeared on your porch the first time. He hadn’t asked for understanding, and you hadn’t known how to offer it. His reasons were vague, more like placeholders for something unsaid. And so he left, quietly, with little fanfare, and though Minho seemed sad to see him go, you could tell he understood.

“It’s good for him,” Minho had said. “He deserves something for himself.”

Relationship happened; Friends parted.

You weren't sure if you understood. While you agreed with Minho, you couldn’t help but feel the loss of a friend now that his calls became less frequent until they stopped altogether. One day, he was simply gone, leaving behind only the memory of the boy who had once trusted you with his rare, precious smiles.

"You’d laugh if you saw me right now. I tried to fix the leaky sink in the kitchen, and now the entire floor is flooded. Minho’s being no help—just standing there laughing."

"Hey, stranger. Our anniversary is next weekend. We’re just doing a small dinner. You should come. Seriously, koo, don’t make me guilt-trip you."

"Saved you a slice of cake, but Minho ate it. You’d better show up next year, or I’ll stop saving you anything."

"Hey, Koo. Just checking in. Hope you're healthy and happy. Would love to hear from you"

You'd text him timely, in hopes that he still knows how to use a phone. But apparently, not.

Still, you had Minho. Your husband, your best friend.

Until you didn't.

Until the carpet was at last, snatched right down from your feet.

The diagnosis came in the spring. It started with a faint weakness in his voice. A shortness of breath he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Just tired,” he’d say, smiling that same easy smile. But tired turned into tests. Tests turned into results. And results turned into a diagnosis that was oh so cruel.

Leukemia. Early stages. Aggressive.

The months that followed were a blur of hospital visits, treatments, and quiet nights where you held him as he cried. You tried to be strong, for him, for both of you. Told him what the doctor in the sterile white office will tell you. "They've caught it early so we're not at a great risk here." You'd reassure him. "You have yet to get away from me, min min." You'd try making him laugh but he had always been better at that.

Now, suddenly he wasn't. The next two years, your life was just the slow, agonizing process of watching the man you loved fade away, losing every bit of his lively soul to the cancer, holding his hand when he was too weak to hold yours back.

Perhaps it wasn't only Minho who was chipping away. It was you too.

You turned into the woman who knew exactly how to track medication schedules, who could list every side effect of his treatment in order of severity, who spoke with doctors as if reciting a memorized script. You learned how to bite back the frustration when he snapped at you because he was in pain, and how to smile when all you wanted was to scream at the unfairness of it all.

You started to measure time not in days or months but in cycles of chemotherapy, in percentages of remission and relapse. Life was divided into hours spent in sterile hospital rooms, waiting for results that were never as hopeful as you needed them to be, and hours spent at home trying to pretend those results didn’t exist.

You had stopped dreaming. And minho had stopped painting.

Grief doesn’t wait for death— or so you've realized as you often found yourself grieving the life you had built together, the one you knew would never be the same. You grieved the sound of his laugh, which became quieter as the months passed. You grieved the way he used to tease you about your love for terrible reality shows, You grieved the mornings spent tangled together, talking about everything and nothing.

By the time the end came, you had already lost so much of him that you thought you might be prepared.

You weren’t.

And then he was gone.

With an, "I'm sorry. I love you." He was gone.

The house was too quiet without him, the days too long. You withdrew, not just from the world but from yourself, letting grief shape the edges of your existence.

The world moved on, even if you didn’t. They tell you how long it takes to fall in love but not how long it takes to get over it.

2 years, 240 days. And you're still counting.

Time passed in pieces—fractured and unrelenting.

Your family, Minho’s family, even well-meaning friends—none of them knew what to do with the mess you’d become, so they did what people often did. They tried to fix it. To fix you.

Blind dates were their answer, little nudges toward what they called healing. The word had been said so many times it began to lose its meaning. Healing. As if it were something—a destination you could stumble upon.

You didn’t have the energy to argue anymore, so you let them dress you up, hand you phone numbers, and convince you that this—whatever this was—was what you needed.

But your heart wasn’t in it.

Because as the man sat in front of you in the dimly lit bar continued to talk about how his ex couldn't handle his success, the trials of being a man with ambition, you really couldn't even bother to pretend you were interested. He was nice enough—tall, well dressed (consdering the dingy bar) with a confident smile but your thoughts kept drifting, as they often did.

2 years, 240 days since Minho had died.

2 years, 240 days of waking up alone in your bed, his side untouched.

2 years, 240 days of trying to find your way back to the woman you used to be.

“Hey,” the man interrupted your thoughts, leaning forward with an eager grin. “I feel like I’m talking too much. Tell me about yourself. What do you do for fun?”

You forced a smile, your stomach twisting. “I paint. It’s... therapeutic.”

“That’s nice,” he said, reaching across the table to touch your hand. You pulled back instinctively, your stool scraping against the floor. His brows furrowed.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I just—”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said, but his tone was tighter now. He leaned back, shrugging as if trying to dismiss the moment. “You know, you should loosen up a little. You’ll never find anyone if you keep acting like you’re still married.”

The words hit you like a slap, your chest tightening as you struggled to process the audacity of his statement. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring the warning in your tone, “you should give people a chance. I mean, you’re here, right?” He smirked and stood, coming around the table. “Let me take you home. We can—”

“Stop,” you said sharply, rising to your feet.

But he didn’t listen. His hand reached for your arm, his grip firm.

Then, just as suddenly as he’d grabbed you, he was gone.

The man stumbled backward, a hand jerking him by the collar. The force was so swift, so unexpected, that it took you a moment to register what had happened.

And then you saw him.

“..Jungkook?” The name caught in your throat as you turned.

You took in the man standing before you, taller and broader than you remembered, the years etched into the sharp lines of his jaw and the set of his shoulders. His dark eyes were fixed on the man who had dared to touch you, glinting coldly.

His voice was low, dangerous. “She said stop. I suggest you listen.”

For a moment, the world tilted.

You weren’t in a dingy bar anymore.

You were standing at the edge of a memory—the first time you’d ever seen Jungkook, the quiet boy who clung to Minho’s shadow.

And the last.

The last time you’d seen him, a looming figure in an ocean of black suits. A barely recognizable shadow among the mourners at your husband's funeral.

Now, standing before you, he was real, tangible—and so was the flood of emotions crashing over you.

It was so loud, you could barely hear as the the man stammered out an excuse, something about a misunderstanding.

“Leave.” Jungkook snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut and bring you back to the moment.

The man hesitated, his mouth opening as though he wanted to argue, but one glance at Jungkook’s expression and he decided against it. Without another word, he turned and stalked out, muttering something under his breath that neither of you caught.

Silence followed.

Only then did you felt his gaze on you. His presence was larger than life, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of how much had changed. How much he had changed. You hadn’t registered that at the funeral. Now, you didn't know what to say, you could hardly manage to look at him. While he wasn't Minho's real brother, didn't share any resemblance with him, it still hurt you, sucked you back into those times when it was the three of you, when it wasn't.

He too didn't reply right away, his gaze searching your face, as though he was also trying to piece together the version of you he remembered with the one standing before him now. When it landed on the arm you were clutching, the arm that dipshit had grabbed, you saw his eyes glint again.

"Did he hurt you?" It sounded more like a demand rather than a question but you couldn't even deciper the words, too focused on how his boyish tone had turned sharper, harder.

"W-What?" You fumble out like a fool.

"Did he hurt you, y/n?" This time, you heard him.

Letting your hand fall, embarrassed, you shook your head, finally managing to utter something sensible out. “No—yeah. I’m fine.”

He glanced back at the door that man had fled from before looking back at you. Finally, he exhaled, his voice low and quiet.

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

You blinked. “My phone?” You don't remember getting a call from anyone but then you realize your battery had died down as you looked down to see your dead device laying flat. "Oh. I didn't realis—"

“Mom said you’d been gone a while. Told me where you were.” He interrupted. There was an edge to his voice now, faint but undeniable.

You feel more embarrassed now that you know it's because of your mother in law's anxious nature that he is here. Your fingers brushed against the strap of your purse, desperate for something to do, something to hold onto as he speaks again. "Are you ready to leave?"

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out before you could think them through. “I can get a cab.”

His brows furrowed, just slightly, and you noticed for the first time the faint shadows beneath his eyes, the hint of weariness in his expression. “It’s late,” he said simply.

"So?”

“So,” he echoed, his tone calm but unyielding, “I’ll take you.”

You hesitated, your pride and your exhaustion warring within you. Finally, you exhaled out in defeat, reaching for your coat. It's just a thirty minute ride. You reassured yourself. It'll be fine.

The cool night air wrapped around you and so did your coat as you stepped outside, and the streetlights cast long shadows that flickered as you walked toward his car. He opened the passenger door for you, his movements deliberate, and waited for you to slide in before closing it softly behind you.

The drive started in silence.

It wasn’t the silence of old friends, the kind that felt easy and safe. This was different—fraught, taut, like a thread stretched too tight.

You stole a glance at him as he started the engine, too aware of the small space you were packed in with him.

“I didn’t know you were back,” you said finally, your statement sounding more accusatory that you or he would have liked.

“Just for a little while,” he replied, his tone ofcourse, unfazed. “Business.”

Buisness. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the word. If someone could look like that word, you thought, it'd be the man in the fine tailored suit with eyes fixed on the road ahead and a rolex that didn't look any more cheaper than the car he was driving and you wondered.

Wondered if the lines of his palms—the callouses from late-night basketball games, the way they had felt solid and familiar when he held yours to steady you on the wobbly bike Minho had convinced you to ride—had changed too.

Had they turned forigen, unyielding? Had time eroded their familiarity?

When the car slowed, you glanced out the window, expecting to see the acquinated sight of your apartment building. But instead, the streetlights gave way to a quieter, darker road. You frowned, turning to him.

“This isn’t the way to my place.”

“I know,” he said simply, not bothering to elaborate. "You're coming with me."

You felt your chest tighten, your pulse quickening as unease prickled at the back of your neck. “Jungkook,” you started, the word heavy with protest.

"Y/N." He ends, sparing you a glance that has you sinking back into your seat, arms folded across your chest like a petulant child that you could swear made his lips twitch at the corner, you could swear you saw your old friend who had grown a sassy tounge at the age of fourteen that'd earn smacks at the head from his older brother for a fleeting cruel second there. But that was it. It was gone as fast as it had appeared, summoning the return of the silence that felt like its own living thing.

The house was still the same.

That was the first thing you noticed as the car slowed down in front of the building that loomed at the end of the road like a memory waiting to consume you.

The overhead lights still flickered faintly, casting shadows across the steps where you and Minho had once sat, daring each other to stay outside until the stars disappeared. Even the smell was the same—faintly woody, with the comforting hint of whatever candle Jungkook’s mom always lit in the hallway.

You hesitated in the doorway, the memories rushing in too fast, too loud. It's not like you haven't been here in ages but since the year you celebrated your first marriage anniversary with Minho here, it felt like you have lived a thousand lives.

Lives that haunted you still, made you randomly pause in the grocery aisle and now before this house until you felt Jungkook’s presence press behind you as if silently urging you on.

Clearing your throat, you slipped out of your heels that have been as much as pain as the man you had been on a date with. The floor creaked softly beneath your feet as you stepped inside, the sound jarring. The same hardwood floors, polished to a faint sheen. The same floral wallpaper lining the hallway. The same photo frames arranged along the wall—a collection of childhoods captured and frozen in time.

But as you glanced toward the corner of the living room where the three of you used to pile up pillows and blankets for makeshift forts. The corner was bare now, save for an old armchair, but in your mind, you saw it vividly: Minho’s determined grin as he shuffled the pillows, Jungkook, always following the lead but never quite competing for it. You would snuggle a pillow to your lap, nestled between the two brothers, peeking from behind your fingers and giggling at the the way Minho’s face would light up in triumph when he won another round of rock-paper-scissors.

A type of smugness that came from knowing he’d get to flick Jungkook’s forehead next. But your smile would fade as soon as you would realize that it's your turn next. “Wait, wait!” you’d plead, wide-eyed, deploying the best puppy-dog look you could muster. It was the same look that had, on occasion, earned you extra TV time with your dad. Jungkook would glance at you and chuckle. Relent like your father would and sheild your forehead with his palm that'd have Minho pouting. "Hey! That's not how you do it!"

"Y/N?" A well recognized voice pulled you back to the where you were supposed to be, back from the fort of pillows and blankets.

You turned around and instantly found yourself wrapped up in a tight hug. You managed a small smile, letting your arms wrap around the warm frame of your mother in law, the scent of her jasmine oil and apprehensive energy pulling you in. "Mom." You greeted back.

Mrs Jeon hadn't always been this.. overbearing. Though after the passing of your husband, she had teamed up with your mother and been on a determined mission to make sure you are well and on a road to healing.

The next few minutes, she did what she had been doing best—fussed over you, asking how you’d been, if you’d eaten, if you were warm enough. In that time being, Jungkook had resigned to wherever his room was.

You planned to do the same, especially now that you could see on her face how she is on the brink of asking about the disaster tonight. You showed some obvious sign of weariness, in hopes she'd let it go for the night and tell you where you're supposed to go to bed for.

"Third on the left, my dear. And I'm gonna need you to stay for breakfast, okay?" You wondered if stubbornness was a running streak in this family.

Hours later, sleep had yet to come.

You lay awake, staring at the ceiling, counting the faint grooves in the plaster as if they could somehow lull you into rest. The trick didn't work. It hadn’t worked in your own apartment either—the one you and Minho had picked out together, picked the colors of the walls together, and argued over where the bookshelf should be. Yet, it was still your space. You could control how you faced the memories there, pacing them, deciding when and how to confront them.

There, at least, you’d managed four or five hours of sleep on a good night. Here? In this house that held so much of him, so much of them, you weren’t sure you’d manage even one.

The room you were led to was neat and welcoming, the kind of space that had been carefully prepared for guests. But there was no comfort to be found in the knowledge that two doors down lay Minho’s childhood room, untouched, a shrine to a boy who grew up into the man you loved and lost.

At some point, you gave up.

Sliding out of bed, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you padded quietly downstairs. The house was silent as you made your way downstairs, the faint hum of the refrigerator the only sound, the indistinct glow from the kitchen spilling into the dimness. You didn’t expect to find anyone there, but as you rounded the corner, your steps faltered.

Jungkook stood by the counter, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, his other resting on the marble surface. His jacket was gone, abandoned somewhere, leaving him in his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Tattoos.

They sprawled across his skin, intricate designs etched into muscle and sinew, that you didn't think you'd ever see on him.

Perhaps you thought wrong. Perhaps you never knew. Never knew him.

He glanced up, his dark eyes meeting yours that looked just as caught off guard as yours did. For a moment, you didn't feel comfortable moving from your spot until he eventually spoke.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice quiet.

You shook your head, stepping into the kitchen. “Needed some water.” You said and opened a cabinet, finding the glasses exactly where you remembered, and filled one with water.

Behind you, Jungkook leaned against the counter, his presence impossible to ignore. Funny, how he always preferred to blend in the background as a child, now his mere cologne—earthy and warm—demanded attention, filled the room before he had even entered.

“Do you… do you drink often now?” you asked hesitantly, glancing over your shoulder, at the way his fingers curled around the glass, the tattoos on his hand shifting as he tilted it.

“Sometimes.” he said, his tone vague.

If things were anything like before between you two or anything like before at all, maybe you'd have pushed further, asked him if this was growing to be a unhealthy habit.

Now, it didn’t seem right when there was an ocean between you—a chasm of time. Felt intrusive. And you know it would only sound hypocritical from your mouth—talking about unhealthy mechanisms. Hah.

You ended up only nodding and put the washed glass back so you could go back to counting the grooves in the plaster. Resume your restless attempt at sleep.

But Jungkook spoke again.

"How long have you been going on.." He started suddenly, setting his glass down with a quiet clink. His voice was calm, but the muscle in his jaw twitched as he spoke. "These dates?"

You blinked at him, taken aback by the question. "Uh—for a while now, I guess?"

“Are you willing, or are they forcing you?”

The question, the way he asked it—sharp, direct—left you off balance. So did the way he was looking at you now, his eyes no longer holding the casualty as they once did when he had the glass of alcohol in his hand.

“I—” You faltered. “They just want to help. They think it’s time.”

“And what do you want?”

To go back to your room. To ask him what did it even matter to him, after all this time.

But what came out was forthright honesty. “I don’t know,” you admitted, “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

He stepped closer, his feet padding softly against the kitchen floor—a contrast to his rigid frame that now towered just close enough. Close enough to see how his chest rose and fell with every breath. Close enough to see how his eyes lingered on you, like he was trying to unravel something he didn’t understand.

“You don’t have to do anything for them or anyone,” he said, his voice soft but no less rough. “Not if you’re not ready.”

You opened your mouth to respond, to deflect, to do something, but his gaze held you in place, tracing down from the dark circles that weighted your eyes to your parted lips. All you could feel was his gaze burning on you and hear your own pulse in your ears.

“Jungkook…” His name escaped your lips in a whisper, barely audible.

He lingered for a beat longer, his eyes searching yours, then he stepped back, his jaw just as tight. “Get some rest.” He clipped out before he turned and walked away, leaving you alone again.

You didn't got any sleep that night.

8:00'o clock. The time's a etched number in your brain ever since you started your job at the university.

It's a routine that needs no alarm clock. It's a number you keep waiting for as you blink at the time passing. And you're more than eager when the morning comes softly along with smaller needle stopping at 8, sunlight slipping through the curtains in streaks too gentle to match the weight in your chest.

With Minho, you were the one to wake up first but here you find that the house was awake before you.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee drifted through the air, mingling with the faint sound of voices coming from the dining room. Breakfast was warm and lively, much like your mother in law. She greeted you with a brightness that almost made you feel guilty for your somber disposition.

“Good morning!” she said with a smile that could have been plucked from a painting. Reaching for a plate of toast, setting it down in front of the empty seat beside her.

“Good morning.” you murmured, sliding into a chair.

Across the table, your father in law sat at his usual spot, his attention fixed on his phone, only looking up to give you a nod of acknowledgment. You had never fully understood him, not as Minho’s father, not as a man.

Perhaps, It had always been because of the sore spot between him and your husband, the way his father disapproved of his wishes—choosing art over business, passion over practicality. You remembered the arguments you thought would never hear after the age of sixteen, the way Minho would come home, his face tight with frustration. “He doesn’t get it,” he’d say. “He never will.” You saw the way it wore on him, the way he carried the weight of his father’s disapproval like it was stitched into his very skin.

Even now, as you sat across from him, you wondered if he ever regretted it—if he ever wished he had spoken softer, loved louder. But his face was as impassive as ever, his thoughts a mystery.

“Jungkook left early this morning,” his mother said, breaking the silence. “Something about a meeting downtown.”

You nodded, relief washing over you in a way that felt almost shameful. You hadn’t realized how much you were dreading seeing him until you knew you wouldn’t have to.

“Busy as always,” you said lightly, reaching for your coffee.

The conversation drifted into familiar topics—neighbors, extended family, stories you half-listened to with polite nods. The table felt both too full and too empty, the gazes of all the people that sat there never straying to the right one in the left corner, just right beside yours.

The older woman turned to you, her tone bright with enthusiasm.

“There’s a party this weekend,” she said, her smile widening. “Just a small gathering with some friends and business partners. It would be lovely if you came with us.”

The suggestion made you squirm uncomfortably in your chair. “Oh, I don’t think—”

“It’ll be good for you,” she interrupted gently, her gaze soft but insistent. “Everyone would love to see you.”

You hesitated, the thought of mingling with people, of putting on a brave face for strangers already making you want to go back to bed. “I’m not sure I’d be good company,” You glanced towards your father in law, half-hoping he might say something to discourage the idea, but he couldn't be any less bothered.

“Nonsense!” she pressed. “You don’t even have to stay long. But it would mean so much to us.”

There was no malice in her persistence, no attempt to guilt you, just a genuine desire to include you in their lives. You couldn’t bear to disappoint her.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”

Her face lit up with a smile. “Wonderful. Jungkook will pick you up and bring you there. That way, you don’t have to worry about driving.”

You froze, cup midway to your mouth. "There's no need for that, mom."

"Oh hush." she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He’ll be coming from the office, so it’s no trouble.”

You nodded slowly, your appetite not too great or you just wanted to get out of here.

8'30. You glanced at the rose gold wrist watch, your first anniversary gift. Your first class is due in an hour, the perfect excuse wrapped around your wrist which you use to excuse yourself from the suffocating walls that always feel like they are closing in on you.

You have come to prefer the morning buzz of the university more—the hum of young adults chatting in the hallways, the scrape of chairs against tiled floors.It was a rhythm you found comforting, predictable in its own way. Here, you were just a professor, the one who explained history and philosophy with hands that only shook sometimes.

The teenage year you would have thought predictable as boring but you— a woman gone through a dubious sets of events found a fellow feeling in it.

Found the task of grading thesis, making power point presentation better than you would have ever imagined.

But Gods, your students need to realize that they can't dump about their toxic ex in every essay. A woman can only take so much.

You were sorting through the said papers in your office when the door creaked open, and a woman peeked her head in, the light from the outside catching in her curly locks.

“You busy?” she asked, her voice light and familiar.

You looked up to see Mira, the economics professor and one of your closest colleagues, walking toward you with her usual warm smile. Mira was more than just a coworker though—being practically family, the wife of Minho’s dark haired cousin who didn’t talk much in family gatherings, and over the years, she had become a friend you could rely on and share lunch with.

“Not for you,” you said, smiling as you waved her in.

She dropped into the chair across from you, setting her bag on the floor. “You look like you didn’t sleep a wink.”

Was it that obvious?

“I didn’t,” you admitted, sighing softly. “I stayed at the Jeons’ last night.”

Her eyebrows rose, but there was something in her eyes—a softness, an understanding—that made you look away for a second. “How’d that go?”

You hesitated, picking at the edge of a notebook on your desk. “It was… fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Jungkook’s back,” you said, and her eyes widened slightly, the topic seeming to catch her attention.

“Really? I didn’t know he was in town.”

“Neither did I, until yesterday.” You shrugged, leaning back in your chair. “Just for a while, though. Business stuff, y'know?”

Mira tilted her head, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. “And how’s that going?”

You frowned, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, but her eyes stayed on you, curious. “I mean, it’s been years, hasn’t it?"

“Yeah,” you said slowly. "It's fine, I suppose. We didn't talk much."

“Hmm.” Mira hummed thoughtfully as if tasting the question she was gonna ask on her tounge. “Are you okay with him being back?”

Were you okay with him behind back? Okay with him stepping in your vicinity after years of acting like you were not even family, let alone a friend?

“I don’t know,” you admitted finally. “It’s strange seeing him again after all this time. But he’s been… kind. Quiet, mostly.”

Mira didn’t press further, but there was something in her expression that made you uneasy, as if she knew something you didn’t.

You cleared your throat, desperate to change the subject. “There’s a party this weekend. His mom invited me. Please tell me you’re going.”

Mira winced, her smile apologetic. “Date night with the husband. Non-negotiable.”

"Oh." You tried not to show the dejection on your face but it was there. "Lucky you."

She studied you for a moment, her expression gentle. “Are you okay with going?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I feel like I have to.”

“You don’t have to do anything for them. Not if you’re not ready.”

If only he understood how much easier it was to do things for others than to face yourself.

“Y/N…” Her voice softened, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to say more. Instead, she reached out and squeezed your hand. “You’ll be fine. And if you’re not, you can text me. I’ll make up some excuse to get you out of there.”

You smiled, grateful for her before bidding bye to her for her next class and focusing back on the pending work spread across your desk while simultaneously going through your closet in your mind.

Minho had always said red made the brown of your eyes excel more.

And you have really tried to believe it, looking at yourself from above your shoulder, from the side of your arm in the mirror but perhaps it's not only this red, off shoulder dress that's not doing your eyes justice. It's every color you have once known, once loved.

It's like, it's you that's not doing them justice.

As you stared into the mirror, your eyes flitting from one detail to the next—the slightly uneven tuck of fabric, the exposed skin of your collarbone—it felt wrong.

The little things were missing—his hands fixing the clasp of your necklace, his voice telling you not to overthink it, that you looked beautiful. That it didn’t matter what you wore, because it was you who wore it.

But he wasn’t here.

With a sigh, you adjusted the necklace you had chosen yourself, a simple silver chain that rested delicately against your collarbone. The mirror wasn’t forgiving, but you looked anyway, searching for something familiar in your own reflection. You smoothed your hands over the fabric, told yourself this was just another party, and dodged the doubts of this being a mistake.

The knock at your door came too soon, sharp and punctual, like everything Jungkook had become.

You felt your stomach clench, nerves twisting with something else you couldn’t name. Smoothing your dress one last time, you crossed the small space of your apartment, pausing just before the door.

When you opened it, Jungkook was standing right before you.

He had stood on the edge of cliffs where oceans met skies too, in countless countries at that, walked through streets that droned with history. Scrawled through the wonders of the world—the kind that made poets immortalize them in verse—but nothing—nothing—would ever measure up to this.

To you.

You, standing in the doorway, framed by the soft glow of the hall light, your hair falling in waves that he had memorized long ago.

His chest tightened, the memory of another doorway bleeding into the moment as gaily as if it had just happened. He had been in the room meant for waiting, where your parents had sat moments before, your mother sniffling into a tissue, your father pacing in his polished shoes. Now it had been his turn.

The thought alone of being the second person to see you before you walked away from him for good had made his tie that he had been trying to get the hang off felt too stressed around his neck, his palms clammy despite the air conditioning. He rubbed them on his pants, glancing at the small clock on the mantle every few seconds. The minutes dragged, each one seemed longer than the other.

What would you look like?

The thought ran circles in his mind, only for a creak of the door to startle him back.

Footsteps had echoed in the quiet, minimizing the distance until he could practically feel the nervous energy of a bride bounce against his. "Okay. You can turn around now." He had heard you speak, had seen the skittish smile on your face before he even turned around.

And when he did, he felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room.

The dress hugged you like it had been designed with only you in mind, its soft fabric flowing as if in defiance of gravity. Your veil cascaded behind you, catching the light, and your smile was small, almost shy, as you looked up at him, waiting for his reaction.

“Well?” you prompted, turning slightly, your hands brushing the fabric at your sides. “What do you think?”

What did he think? He thought the universe was wicked for allowing him to witness this and still expect him to let you go.

He had swallowed hard, forcing his voice to steady when he finally said, “You look—” His tongue had faltered over every adjective that came to mind. Beautiful wasn’t enough. Breathtaking felt like a cliché. “Perfect.”

You—Beautiful, Devastatingly, so.

You—who weren’t his to look at this way.

He feels his breath catch, his hands clenching at his sides to keep himself from reaching for you.

Because while that version of you had been a dream, this version—worn, weathered, but still so unmistakably you—was real. And the reality of you had always been what he wanted most.

Fuck. He shouldn’t be here.

He shouldn’t have agreed to pick you up, shouldn’t have stepped into this space, should have kept the distance he had spent years bridging.

But he has always found himself hopeless and running back to wherever you were concerned, hopeless in a way that had him studying for a test he didn’t even have to keep you company or show up.. here. Content to be near you in whatever capacity he could. He told himself it was enough. That it would be enough to watch you from the sidelines, to sit across from you at family dinners.

It wasn’t.

Because Jungkook wasn't a virtuous man. He never had been.

Virtue belonged to his brother—the one who could weave dreams out of thin air, who saw the world in colors Jungkook had never learned to name. His brother—Minho—who had been the light, the warmth that people, he gravitated toward. He had admired Minho, even envied him, resented him in ways he never admitted aloud and kept it in shadows.

When Minho died, the shadow became a man. And that man had spent years running.

Running into work, into unfamiliar cities, into the kind of purpose that left no room for thought. No room for the times when everything was right, when he tasted family and friendship for the first time ever, no room for the last time he tasted it when you walked down the aisle to his brother looking at him like he was the sun and how it burned, how he had burned with nails biting into his palms.

And only men with no integrity burn. Men who are cowards, restless, afraid of thier own greed try to run, in hopes that the distance would save them.

But distance didn’t save men like Jungkook.

Because here he was again, standing before you, the fire still smoldering.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice pulling him back, creating a doubt in his belief.

“Hi,” he replied, his own tounge feeling heavy in his mouth.

“You’re early,” you said, your tone carefully light.

He cleared his throat, his hands slipping into the pockets of his slacks in an attempt to keep them to themselves. “Traffic was lighter than I expected. Are you ready to leave?"

You nodded and he stepped back, revealing his sleek Mercedes benz parked just right in front. He let you walk before him, watching how your movements were hesitant, as if the ground beneath your feet wasn’t entirely steady. He wanted to ask you if you were okay. He wanted to tell you it was okay if you weren't.

He settled for opening the car door for you.

“Thanks for this,” you said, your gaze fixed on the passing streetlights. “I know it’s probably the last thing you want to do.”

His grip tightened against the leather of the steering wheel with a force that made his knuckles ache. There was a rancorous way that you spoke to him, carefully restrained, that he couldn't even blame you for.

"It's not." He gritted out. "It's not a problem."

He had earned every inch of this gap between you, had spent years building it brick by brick, mile by mile. He's all to blame for. For carving the space between you with every ignored call, every excuse he made to avoid family dinners where you’d inevitably be.

For the leaving the wreckage in his wake—yours, his, theirs.

It wasn’t fair to hate the consequences of his own choices.

But hell, if he didn't outright loathed feeling like he was staring at a wall of frosted glass when he looked at you—where he could see the outline of you, but the details were blurred, distant. Like he had lost the privilge of knowing you from one glance, lost the privilge of having you speak up to him whenever you wanted, call him out, intoxicate him with your laughter that lightened up a room he wasn't even aware was dark. Found it fucking unbearable.

So much that he felt relief washing over him when the venue of the gathering came in view. A grand mansion, framed by manicured gardens and sprawling oaks that seemed to whisper old secrets to one another. It had a timeless elegance that made you wonder how many lives it had seen pass through its doors.

Small gathering, she said. You scoffed internally at rich people and their definition of small.

“Nice place,” you murmured as you walked beside him, your steps careful on the stone path after the car was eased into a parking spot.

“It’s the Kim's family home,” Jungkook said. You nodded, though the name didn’t spark much recognition. The Kims had been mentioned here and there at family dinners—names dropped in passing between sips of wine and shared laughter. You had barely paid attention then, too busy suppressing laughs at the jokes that Minho whispered near.

The front doors were open, the faint scent of fresh flowers and expensive cologne wafting out to greet you. Inside, the space was as opulent as expected—high ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers, polished floors that gleamed under the soft light, and clusters of well-dressed guests milling about with drinks in hand.

A tall man stood near the entrance, his broad shoulders and sharp jawline making him impossible to miss. Beside him, another man stood with a softer air, his eyes crinkling with warmth as he leaned into the first man’s side.

The taller of the two men turned, his expression lighting up as he spotted Jungkook. “There he is,” He said, his deep voice carrying effortlessly.

"Hyung." Jungkook softened, clasping hands in a firm shake before pulling each other into a brief hug, the kind that spoke of collaboration and respect.

You shifted awkwardly on your feet, your fingers curling around the strap of your purse as you wondered whether to step back and leave him to his conversation or stay and risk being out of place.Would it be rude if you chose the former?

You were saved from your uncertainty when the two of them pulled away from Jungkook and took you in, a gleam of recognition passing through their face. Recognition, shock, then pity. You know how it went.

“You must be Y/N,” the taller one said, his gaze shifting to you with a warm smile.

You blinked, clearly caught off guard by the direct attention. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Kim Namjoon ” he said, offering his hand. “And this is Seokjin, my partner.” You smiled, nodding in acknowledgment before taking the hand of the charming one in the beige suit. “It’s nice to meet you, both. This is a beautiful venue.” You assume that they're the hosts of the party. The Kims that this house belonged to.

“Thank my father for that,” Namjoon said with a chuckle. “Sixty years old and still insists on hosting the most extravagant parties. He’d never let me live it down if I didn’t pull out all the stops.”

“Extravagant is an understatement,” Seokjin chimed in, his tone playful as he glanced at Namjoon. “I’m pretty sure half the flowers in the city ended up here.”

You smiled again, but it faltered when Seokjin's expression changed in a beat.

“We’ve heard a lot about you too,” he said gently, his gaze dipping briefly to Jungkook before meeting yours again.

You tilted your head, curiosity flashing across your face. “All good things, I hope.”

“Of course,” Namjoon assured you. “Your family is well-regarded, and we-we're sorry about Minho. He was brilliant in every sense of the world. We can't even imagin—"

“Thank you,” you said softly, trying really hard to not let the tightening of your throat strain your voice. “He was.”

Jungkook watched as your smile faltered, just slightly, at the mention of Minho. He decided to steer the conversation away but you recovered quickly, offering a polite nod and beat him to it.

There was a brief, loaded pause before you glanced at Jungkook. “I should find mom. She asked me to join her earlier.”

"Yeah, right.” Jungkook said, his voice steady despite the way his chest tightened again when he looked at you.

You walked by Jungkook, brushing close enough that your shoulder brushed against his chest, the faintest hint of your vanilla perfume that was so maddeningly you lingered in the air. He tensed, his breath catching before he could stop it. His fingers twitched at his sides, an almost imperceptible motion, but it was enough.

Subtle as he tried to be, he caught himself leaning slightly, his chest rising with a quiet inhale as though he could take the ghost of your scent and keep it for himself.

"Not as subtle as you think." Seokjin snickered by his boyfriend's side who also raised an eyebrow, his expression knowing and somewhat giving away his discomfort. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

Shit.

Jungkook straightened, his jaw clenching as he avoided their eyes, fixing the collar of his shirt hoping they won't catch on the heat creeping up on his neck too. “Don’t.” he said quietly, his tone low and edged with warning.

"Maybe you don't sniff her like a dog in public? Maybe you have some decorum?" Seokjin judged, proud and loud.

"I have plenty, hyung." The younger male side eyed the older one, his eyes narrowed and the tips of his ears already crimson red like he was a boy caught watching porn for the very first time.

Namjoon sighed, though there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Let him be, honey.”

But the look he gave Jungkook was far from dismissive. It was the kind of look that saw too much, that peeled back layers Jungkook wasn’t ready to confront. Gods, he needed new friends.

He turned his attention back to the crowd where you disappeared.

The soft hum of conversations and the faint clinking of glasses followed you as you weaved through the grand hall, your eyes scanning for your mother-in-law’s familiar figure. The air in the mansion was heavier than it had been when you arrived, the brush of silk against silk, the way every movement seemed calculated, observed, and weighed.

You navigated through the crowd like a ghost in a gallery, your steps measured and slow, eyes flicking to the floor more than once to avoid the speculative stares. With rich circles came dirty gossip—whispered words disguised as laughter, false smiles that hid daggers. You’d learned to let them roll off your back, like rain on stone.

The Jeon matriarch had mentioned being near the back, closer to where the banquet tables were set. You followed the direction she’d gestured toward earlier, passing servers who moved seamlessly with trays of sparkling champagne.

Halfway through the journey, your steps faltered as your gaze landed on the centerpiece of one table—a chocolate fountain. Warm, rich, and cascading like liquid satin, it stood surrounded by an array of treats. Strawberries gleamed like rubies in the low light, their surfaces polished and inviting.

You hesitated, glanced around as if expecting someone to berate you for indulging in something so ordinary, but eventually, you plucked a strawberry and dipped it into the cascading chocolate.

You let the sweetness settle on your tongue, closing your eyes for a brief moment. For the first time all evening, you found this place somewhat tolerable.

Free food always making things better.

“Excuse me, miss.” a small voice piped up beside you, tugging on the flowy end of your dress.

A boy, no older than six or seven, stood by your side, his wide eyes flicking between you and the fountain. He looked as if he had stepped out of a luxury children’s catalog, his little suit tailored perfectly, his bow tie slightly askew. “Can you grab one for me? I’m not allowed to reach it by myself.” he asked, pointing at the fountain. His voice was polite, but there was a hopeful edge to it, as if he wasn’t used to asking for things twice.

“Of course, love.” you said, your lips curving into a small smile. You picked another strawberry, dipping it with care before crouching slightly to hand it to him. "There you go."

“Thank you!” he chirped, grinning immediate and radiant, the kind that softened the edges of a hard day.

"What's your name?" You asked him, crouching down to his level.

“Do-yun!” came a sharp voice, the kind that turned your stomach before your brain even processed it.

Who you assumed was the boy's mother stepped forward, her elegance severe, her lips painted in a red that matched the strawberries. She took her son’s hand but not before her eyes raked over you, head to toe, with an expression that left no room for interpretation.

"What did I tell you about bothering strangers?” she scolded do-yun who stared at the skewer in his hand apologetically.

“He wasn’t bothering me,” you said gently, straightening up and having the woman’s eyes flicker to you again, assessing.

“He just wanted a treat.”

Her eyes flicked to the chocolate fountain, then back to you, her lips pressing into a tight smile. “how kind of you.”

There was no warmth in her tone, no hint of gratitude. Just a faintly dismissive air. And with that, she turned, her child in tow, leaving you with the faint scent of something floral and the taste of bitterness on your tongue.

You'd learned better than to expect warmth from people bound by history.

You'd learned not to mind it. To overlook it. To not pay attention to them at all.

"That's her, isn't she?"

“Such a shame, losing her husband so young.”

“Yes, but you know, they weren’t exactly power players, were they? He was an artist, wasn’t he?”

The words hung in the air like cigarette smoke, acrid and inescapable.

A laugh, soft and cruel. “I suppose she’s lucky the Jeons still keep her close. Poor thing, all alone now. Must be awful.”

You stopped in your tracks. The sharp sting of their voices cut through the party’s hum, louder than the music, louder than your own heartbeat.

You could feel your palms start to get sweaty, eyes suddenly unable to meet anyone's.

Breathe. You reminded yourself.

One: Find your breath.

Two: Focus on something neutral—the fountain, the floor, the chandelier above.

Three: Remind yourself: They don’t know you. Their words are weightless.

But weightless wasn’t the right word.

“Though, you’d think she’d be a bit more modest. That dress isn’t exactly… widow-appropriate, is it?”

You tried to focus on your numbers but you lost it.

You turned, your fists clenched, your lips thinned, the polite demeanor cracking away from your face under the weight of your frustration.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended. “Was there something you wanted to say to my face?”

The women froze, their eyes widening in surprise. One of them, a younger woman with a nervous smile, tried to backpedal. “Oh, no, we didn’t mean—”

“Because if you have an issue with me or my dress, feel free to say it outright,” you continued, your voice clear despite the way your heart hammered in your chest. “I’d hate for you to waste any more time whispering behind my back.”

The group exchanged glances, communicating in a language of their own, you couldn’t care less about. Atleast not in this moment.

“We didn’t mean to offend,” one of them muttered, her tone brittle.

“Of course you didn’t,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “How could I possibly take offense to strangers dissecting my life as if it’s some dinner party entertainment?”

Stupid old hags with no life of their own!

You kept that to yourself.

Then, without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and stormed away.

The chandeliers above blurred as tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now.

You weren’t looking for anything specific—just distance, just air that wasn’t thick with judgment and whispers. A bathroom, maybe, though you weren’t going to ask for directions not when your voice felt like it would crack the moment you opened your mouth.

People brushed past you, their scents of expensive perfumes swirling in the air, their muted voices blending into a hum you couldn’t quite focus on. One or two bumped into your shoulder, but you didn’t apologize, didn’t bother looking back.

You just needed to get away—you just needed out of here.

And then, as if the universe wasn’t finished testing you, a firm hand of another one of a frame you jerked into, closed around your wrist, halting your momentum.

You looked up, brows scrunched, eyes glossy and mouth parting, ready to snap but then you were met with a amicable pair of dark eyes.

A crease of his own wrinkling his forehead as he looked down at you. "Is something wrong?" He asked and you almost wanted to laugh mockingly.

Instead, you did what you initially wanted to do. Your eyes flicked to his hand, then back to his face. “Let me go.”

He hesitated for a moment, tounge poking his cheek, grip on your hand loosening but not releasing entirely. "What's wrong, y/n?"

“I said, let me go,” you repeated, your voice firm, frangible at the edges before you pulled your hand away from him and pushed past to walk away without another word.

The next random hallway you stumbled into was quieter, emptier, and for that, you were grateful, stretched ahead like an endless corridor of polished wood and muted gold accents. The noise of the party faded into the background, muffled by the thick walls and heavy doors.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to roam around mindlessly any further. This should be good enough, you told yourself and leaned against one of the walls, your forehead pressing against the cool surface as you tried to breathe through the wave of vehemence emotions that crashed through you.

One: Inhale.

Two: Exhale.

Three: Forget the words they said. Forget them.

But they echoed, persistent and savage, circling in your mind like vultures.

Poor thing, all alone now. Must be awful.

You’d think she’d be a bit more modest. That dress isn’t exactly widow-appropriate, is it?

Your chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, your hands clutching at your dress as if the fabric could somehow hold you together. But nothing could, nothing had. You had tried and tried and tried.. and fuck you didn't wanted to do it anymore.

Turning around, your head tipped back against the wall, the ceiling swimming in and out of focus as your vision blurred.

You shouldn’t have come here.

You should have stayed home, buried yourself in the comfort of your quiet apartment where no one whispered behind your back or looked at you with pity thinly disguised as deference.

Why did they care? Why did it matter to them how you dressed, how you existed, how you grieved?

It shouldn’t have mattered.

But it did.

You pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes, trying to will the tears away. Crying wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t change anything.

Your hands gripped your clutch tightly, the edges digging into your palms, and for a moment, you considered throwing it—hurling it across the hall just to feel something break.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Because even here, in this quiet, empty hallway, you felt the silent expectation that you hold yourself together, that you keep smiling, keep nodding, keep existing in a way that made other people comfortable.

You hated this. You hated being you. You hated being the one who was left behind. And God you hated being alone. No Minho to make a quiet joke about the ridiculousness of it all and pull you toward something fun and irreverent.

Just you.

It will be always be just you. You've never admitted that to yourself but now that you did, you feel such panic rise in your chest that you don't hear him at first. Not until his voice broke through the haze.

“Y/N.”

It was soft, tentative, but it still cut through the silence like a blade.

You flinched, your head snapping toward the source of the voice. Jungkook stood a few feet away, his dark eyes searching yours, his expression shadowed with concern.

He had followed you.

“I told you to leave me alone,” you managed, your voice trembling as you turned away, willing him to disappear.

“I’m not leaving,” he said, his footsteps growing louder as he moved closer with a cautiousness that made you feel like a wounded animal. “Talk to me.” He added, the pleading in his voice almost running free.

"I mean it, Jungkook.. go away." You tried putting distance between the both of you again but far too quick for your slowed senses, he was now standing right in front of you, hands hovering in the air as if he didn't know what to do with him while also knowing.

"And I told you, I'm not leaving." His tone had coarsened and your dam had broke.

“Why now?” you cried, stepping closer to him, your fists balling at your sides. “Why do you want to stay now? You’ve spent years acting like a stranger, Jungkook. Years acting like I didn’t exist. And now—”

You shoved at his chest, your fists pounding weakly against him, but he didn’t move.

“Now you want to act like you care?” you yelled, your voice cracking as you hit him again. “Now you want to be here? Why?”

Jungkook stood still, his arms at his sides, his chest solid and unyielding beneath your fists. He didn’t flinch, didn’t step back, didn’t even try to stop you. He just let you hit him, let you pour out everything.His silence infuriated you, and yet it steadied you in a way you couldn’t explain.

"Why do you care now?" you repeated, your voice cracking, trembling like your hands as they hit his chest incessantly. Each word felt like it scraped raw against your throat. "Where were you, Jungkook? When everything fell apart, when I—when I needed someone. Where were you?"

“I don’t need you now!” you snapped, your tears falling freely now. “I don’t need you to come here and act like you care, like you’ve always cared, because we both know that’s not true."

“Because you left!" your voice cracked, the words laced with betrayal. The hurt from the breach of faith weakening you and your punches on his chest until they finally stilled, your hands trembling still as they curled into the fabric of his shirt. Jungkook caught your wrists, his hold firm but gentle, and for a moment, you fought him, your breaths coming in sharp and ragged. But when he didn’t let go, when he didn’t flinch or step back, the fight drained out of you.

Your knees buckled, and his arms came around you slowly, hesitantly, as if he were afraid you might push him away. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You were too tired now. Empty hands that had been holding onto something for as long as you could remember were too tired, have forgotten the feeling of what it felt like to be held instead.

You allowed to let yourself feel that. You allowed yourself to feel someone else other than the woman you couldn’t even recognize in a mirror as you sagged against him, your head pressing against his shoulder as your tears soaked into his shirt, body shaking and shivering from the quiet sobs that you let out.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, angel." You heard him say those words like a mantra against your hair, arms tightening around you, nestling you close against his chest.

For a moment, you heard pain there, raw and unfiltered, pain that felt similiar to your own in ways you hadn’t expected. You clutched his shirt tighter. You didn't wanted to be alone and Jungkook felt and smelled of times when you weren't. Earthy and Warm. Like that one time when he pulled you in to him after the death of milo- your first dog, and didn’t even mind your snort.

You had clung to those memories but it felt better clinging to him. A small, desperate part of you wanting to drag him closer, to cling to what little you had left of the past. The rest of you wanted to push him away, to keep screaming at him for daring to come back after all this time, after all this distance.

The sobs subsided slowly, leaving behind the kind of stillness that felt fragile, as if it might shatter with the wrong word or movement. Jungkook didn’t push you away, didn’t loosen his hold. If anything, he pulled you closer, as though he feared you’d slip through his fingers if he let go.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your gaze searching his face. His eyes shadowed, a stupid perfect strand of his stupid perfect hair falling on his forehead with tension prominent in his jaw and you wondered if there was a time there wasn't.

You wondered if it would make you any more vulnerable that you are right now if you say the words that sit on the top of your tounge, sting in the tears that linger in the corner of your eyes.

“I missed you,” you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. They felt dangerous, like exposing a wound that had barely begun to scab over.

His eyes darkened, a low sound rumbling in his chest—something between a growl and a sigh. “Fuck,” he muttered, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I missed you too, angel."

The rawness in his tone made your chest clench, a part of you craving more, while another part shrieked at you to stop this before it went any further, gather whatever semblance has left of you and walk away, play his cards against him.

But you have never been too good with cards or walking away.

“Then why did you leave?” you croaked. “Why did you stay away for so long?”

His gaze dropped to the space between you before meeting your eyes again, his own breathing now getting uneven. You could feel it beneath you. Rising. And Rising. And Rising.

"I didn’t knew how to look at you and not feel like I'm.. betraying him." His voice trembles as he drews in breath and you're so close you feel the heat of it brush against your temple. "And I can not, not look at you. That became a problem."

Your body stiffened at the confession, the world around you shrinking until it was just the two of you, his voice echoing in your ears.

Your first instinct was disbelief.

This can't mean what you think it does.

This can’t mean what you think it does!

The words replayed in your mind, over and over, refusing to settle. Each repetition twisted something deeper, something buried in the hollow space that had once been you.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, needing space, needing air.

He didn’t move. His gaze followed you, his expression resolute, like he was determined to lay everything bare now that the first truth had slipped out.

But you didn’t even wanted to acknowledge it as something, let alone, a truth. “That’s not—” Your voice cracked, and you forced yourself to start again. "Are you drunk, Jungkook?" You found the thought so repulsing, you could only think of ways to brush this up, put all the blame on the champagne.

From the way his eyes narrowed and brow ridged, you could tell that it was not the champagne.

“Y/N.” he says with a warning. “I’m not fucking drunk.”

“Well, you sound like you are,” you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended. “Because that—what you just said—sounds like something someone says when they’re not thinking clearly. You're not making any sense, Jungkook!"

“It makes sense,” he was starting to get frustated now. “It’s the only thing that’s ever made sense to me.”

And you were starting to get scared. You needed him to stop talking. Anything and everything he said made you physically want to recoil. You took another step back, your arms wrapping around yourself as if you could shield yourself from the weight of unsaid words that are no longer so.

“Don’t,” you said, your voice breaking, hands tempted to cover your ears like a child. His confession felt like a pin pulled from a grenade, and now the blast was unfurling within you. “Don’t do this. It's not fair. It's-It's not fair to him. Or me. Or you."

I know. He admits quietly to himself because he doesn't think anyone knows better than the man who was holding the jagged ends of a once delicate thread. And he hates himself for it because hating you was as unrealistic as the existence of a greater being to him. He had tried. Tried turning to salvation. Tried to despise you for being the one thing that has turned him the best and worst person he can be but he just can't. He prefers hating himself better.

He wants this punishment, that is you. He wants to whisper I'm sorry- I'm sorry for leaving- I'm sorry for coming back in every crook and nook of your body for the rest of his life so you'd feel his expression of regret that could only be a product of love so consuming embedding into you.

Because it's truth. It's his truth, has been for years and years, before he even knew what are the consequences of being a honest person. Now that he is seeing you in front of him—you with a revolting look, a stray tear rolling down your eyes that is nowhere near as angry as it had been before, he understands that it's not a consequence he can take.

He dares to step forward again and even if takes a whole lot of power in him not to pull you into him again, he doesn't and only raises a hand and catches the tear with his thumb.

“You don’t get to do this to me.” you repeat, your voice low and trembling.

And so does his. "I know."

Jungkook didn’t know what he expected you to say, what he hoped for. Forgiveness? Understanding? He wasn’t sure he deserved either.

Yet when you don't pull away, look back at him with the same daring he had stepped forward with, a silence understanding passes between the space that is separating you from him. And he's done being separated from you.

He tilted his head down, his breath stirring your hair when he inhaled deeply, his nose tracing a path down until it rubbed against yours—softly, deliberately—as if giving you time to move away. You didn't and his eyes fell on your inviting mouth again.

Fuck it.

Jungkook surged forward, his hands cupping your face, tipping your face up to him as his lips crashed against yours. The way he kissed you was nothing like the way he had touched you. It was rough, desperate with the way tounge and teeth clashed, filled with years of pent up desire and regret and emotions too tangled to name.

He kissed you like the nights he’d spent staring at the ceiling in places too far from home, wondering if you’d be happier without him there to complicate things, wondering if things had been any different if he said something before. Will you have looked at him like the way you looked at his brother? Would that choice have saved you from years and years of tragedy? Would that have saved him from the weight of his guilt, his love—love that had been a silent, unwelcome presence in his life for so long that it felt like another organ, vital and inescapable?

When he felt you grip him again and kiss him back. Nothing else mattered. The world stopped spinning and he didn't wanted to run anymore.

His hands found your waist, gripping tightly. A low groan slipping from his mouth to yours at the feeling of how you melted against him when he deepened the kiss, tounge proding and exploring all that your sweet mouth had to offer. Gods, he was drunk now.

"Shit." He shuddered as the taste of you finally started to settle in, pulling you closer and closer, then pushing you back until your back met the wall of the hallway.

You should be scared, anxious and pushing him back. The mere thought of someone walking in on you kissing him, your supposed family. Should make you want to end this because you could only imagine the stake they'd pin you on. They'd be not wrong to.

This is traitorous—what you're doing, what you're allowing yourself. But so is a shameful part of you that had always reached for him. Something that whispered to you, so soft it felt like it came from inside your own chest.

It's not so bad. His lips feel good.

But oh, it is. It makes you sick from just thinking how bad it is. Anger, confusion, guilt—oh, the guilt—swirl together and make you so sick.

"W-We shouldn’t.." You gasp against him as your unpracticed lips suck on his in a contradiction.

"No, we shouldn't." He kisses you harder, his mouth only leaving yours to trail a train of kisses along the column of your accessible throat to him, making you whimper out loud that he takes as an sign to nibble and bite.

Your hands find their way to his shoulder and his to your hips. "Legs around me." He licks the length of your neck, narrowing your world down to the feeling of his provoking wet tounge on your skin, his calloused fingers squeezing your hips. It felt all too real now. And despite you being balant enough to start this in the first place, you're not sure if you're still feeling bold. What you are feeling is this sinful, unexplainable craving seeping into your bones, curling around your ribs, making it hard to breath and think. Or maybe it's him.

Whatever it is, you get yourself to pause his eager hands and hungry mouth and speak, your breath coming in short, hot puffs. "Jungkook.. I don't think-" He straightens up and the vulnerability in his voice and eyes is gone as he squeezes your hips tighter.

"Finally gave me that perfect mouth of yours and now you want to walk away? Do you like tormenting me, angel? Do you like knowing that I'd fuck my fist to only the thought of you when you do?" He growls against your ear and you feel yourself flush so hard you're sure he even feels the heat coming off you in ripples.

"Please, baby." He pleads unapologetically, fingers tugging you closer even when all of you is pressed against all of him. "I want you." So bad it hurts.

Gone is the man who had once been so armored, seemed so unreachable and untouchable. And left is Jeon Jungkook, who looks like he will crumble to the ground if you pull away now.

You wouldn't want that. But the words came anyway, right from where shame twisted in your stomach, tangling with the guilt that clawed at your throat. "Do you still want me even if I'm nothing like the woman I used to be?" It came out breakable and in segments, and the second they left your lips, you weren’t sure what to except as a answer.

For a moment, all you could hear was the ragged rhythm of your combined breathing.

You swallowed hard, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. The intensity in his dark eyes was almost unbearable, raw and unrelenting as they searched yours.

"Don't ever say that again." he bit out, every syllable heavy. "I want you always. I want you with my every breath. There's always been only you for me, understand?" He added with a brief grind of his hardened arousal against your front, making you mewl.

The words, though, hit you like a physical forcek, breaking through the walls you’d built around yourself, the ones you’d convinced yourself were impenetrable.

Before you could respond, he moved.

His mouth fell onto yours again and with practiced ease, his hands slid to the backs of your thighs, lifting you like you weighed nothing. "Now. Legs around me, baby." he murmured in the kiss, and though your mind was a whirlwind of what seemed like every single thought you've ever had, your body obeyed.

You could barely figure out to where he was taking you, too engrossed in the kiss that you steered towards a softer, mellow one, fingers tangling in the hair that has grown a little bit on the nape of his neck. Feeling like you both were two audacious college students trying to find a space in a messy party where you both won't be interrupted.

When he halted in his steps, you assumed that he found it as he kicked it open with a firm nudge of his boot, the room beyond dim and quiet but he barely give you time to register anything else, his movements urgent and frantic as he carried you over to the bed in the middle after swiftly locking you both away. You bounced on the silk mattress as he set you down, though his intentions were grave, his actions or the way he held you was gentle, tounge swiping over his glistening lips like chasing the taste of you that made you want to give him once more.

Audacious, you were.

Your eyes on his face, shadows played along the planes, softening the hard edges of his jaw, but his gaze burned. Dark and piercing, it held you in place as if daring you to look away.

You didn’t.

Your eyes followed the sluggish movements of his hands as he reached up, his fingers deftly working the knot of his tie. The fabric slid free, whispering against the buttons of his dress shirt before he cast it aside, forgotten on the nearby chair.

Next came his jacket. He shrugged it off with practiced ease, the broad span of his shoulders rolling beneath the fabric. Your breath hitched as he discarded it, leaving him in the crisp white shirt that clung to his frame, the outline of him barely hidden.

And then his hands moved again, this time to his wrist.

You watched, mesmerized, as he undid the strap of his watch, the silver buckle catching the faint light. He pulled it free and set it down on the nightstand, the movement so fluid it felt almost rehearsed.

It wasn’t until he turned his wrist slightly that you noticed it—the worn thread of a bracelet wrapped around his wrist, faded from time and use but unmistakable.

The one you’d tied around his wrist when you were kids in an action of promise to stay friends for years to come.

But he still wore it.

He still wore it.

Your fingers twitched against the bedspread, the urge to reach out and touch him almost overwhelming.

And as if understanding your anticipation, he soon followed you down, your breath catching as he hovered above you. You waited for him to kiss you again because god help you, you liked a little too much but he only pressed a chaste one, smirking subtly at the pout that subconsciously formed on your lips that soon parted in a gasp when he started to suck on your neck again, this time with the intention to claim the spot with the scrape of his teeth.

He hummed against your skin, the sound deep and satisfied, before he drew your flesh into his mouth again, harder this time. The sharp pull sent a jolt of pleasure-pain coursing through you, thighs clenching together.

"My angel." he said softly, yet nothing was soft about the way he pulled down on the straps of your dress. The fabric slipped, baring the smooth skin of your shoulder, and he pressed his lips there, warm and firm, before trailing lower, his mouth following the path he’d just uncovered. "My undoing."

The red fabric gathered at your arms as he pushed it further, exposing the tops of your collarbones and the swell of your chest. His gaze flicked up to meet yours then, dark and questioning, seeking permission even though his hands were steady, his intention clear.

You nodded, perhaps with too much enthusiasm and earned a chuckle from him that you were sure was the reason for the wetness pooling between your legs.

You had missed that sound. You had missed him.

And he was hell bent on making up for lost time as he dived face first into your chest, humming again when he took in your pebbled nipple in his mouth, swirling his tounge around the roundness of you.

"Oh shit." Your back arched, hands finding their way to his hair again. Pulling and tugging. Urging him on until his hand was fondling the other, abandoned tit. Squeezing under his rough palms that made the heat lowering your stomach worse—all of it felt too much, too soon. And yet, it wasn’t enough.

It had been so long.

Too long since someone had touched you like this, with a reverence that made you feel seen, whole, wanted.

You told yourself it was natural, that anyone in your position would respond this way. That it wasn’t about him—it couldn’t be. But your body betrayed you before your mind could even catch up. Your legs wrapped around his waist once more as you ground yourself against him. Against the print of his bulging length you could feel pulsing against you.

"Fuck yeah.." You cursed low, head falling back on the pillows and Jungkook looked up, his own cock twitching at the sight of you, at the feel of you. Of everything he has ever wanted. Of everything he thought he would never have. But here you were straight from his flithest wet dream that would have him taking more cold showers that he could keep count of.

A goddamn miracle for him, this wasn't a dream.

"This here needs some attention too, hmm?" He rasped, hands slipping down from the curve of your waist, to bunch up your dress to your hips. Wasting no time in finding the wet mess you made of your panties. "Look at this." He grunted, hand cupping your clothed mound. "So wet."

You exhaled out like you'd been freed from shackles that felt too heavy and a whimper followed right after when he disposed you of them, exposing your deprived cunt to the cold air that had you clenching around nothing. "And so fucking responsive." He breathed against your bare sex after moving his head down.

You hadn’t expected that. You breath was bated, cheeks were flushed and heart was pounding at the view alone of his face between your thighs.

Then again, he was all about surprising you today.

Though, it didn't make it any less overwhelming.

The way his hands gripped your thighs, firm yet careful, as if he were both anchoring you and holding himself back. His fingers dug into your skin just enough to leave the faintest imprint, a reminder of where he had been, where he was. Your legs draped over his shoulders, trembling with a mix of anticipation and disbelief, as though your body was still catching up to the reality of this moment.

Never in your wildest dreams, it would have come to this. Come to Jungkook licking a greedy strip up from your folds.

"Jungkook—oh God!" You gasped and he groaned, feeling all of his restraint and the plan to savor this, to savor you, slip away from his tightening hands. One taste of you and he wanted to grasp every drop of like it would be his last.

And so he did.

Burying his face in your wanting pussy like a man with purpose, he lapped. His mouth wrapped around your clit, tounge swiping and licking with a reverence because you were something sacred, something he had put on a pedestal so high, others in his life barely mattered.

"Oh- mhm. Feels so good!" You moan out, mind in a haze of pure fog and he takes it as his cue to plunge his digit inside your dripping core. You're sure you've got no mind now. Grunts of his own leaving him at the thought of your heat wrapping around his aching cock instead.

He felt no shame in that. No shame in what he was doing right now. Because then you moved, your body arching toward him as if to erase every doubt. Your fingers found their way to his hair, tugging as selfishly as he fed on you, flatenning his tounge on your slit to take all he can get, to give you all he can.

A shaky exhale brushing against your folds. The sound was low, guttural, and filled with more longing than he knew how to contain. "Does it, baby? Sweet pussy's feeling good?" His fingers—knuckles deep now—worked you faster, curling and testing ways to get you closer to the edge.

This was more desire that he knew he was possible of as his hips started to rut on their own, seeking friction in a way that was both instinctual and helpless. Brain flat lining. Face drowned in the essence of you. Desperate, as you pulled on his hair. Pathetic, as he chased his own high from just the taste of you, from just how you enveloped his curving fingers. Ecastic, when you finally reached your breaking point from how he alternated between broad strokes and targeted flicks, making you come all over his mouth that kindles his face, that he swallow all because he refuses to let anything go to waste.

"Ah fuck—Oh lord!" You fingers tear in his scalp and hips bucked against his face, eyes rolling back until they whitened.

Oh.

Oh.

It was in this moment, with your thighs braced against his shoulders and his name spilling from her lips, that Jungkook knew.

He would never be the same again.

That he too would be coming in his pants like a high school boy.

It wasn’t enough—nothing would ever be enough—but it was all he had, and it drove him to the edge faster than he would’ve liked to admit. The tension inside him snapped before he could stop it, his body tensing and toes curling because he found everything else secondary to the sheer joy of watching you fall apart beneath him.

"Oh shit, y/n. Shit. Shit. Shit." He whimpers against your cunt, his hips finally slowing down their mindless movement. His forehead pressed against your thigh as he caught his breath. His chest heaved, his heartbeat thundered in his ears, and his entire body felt like it was vibrating, the aftershocks of his release making his muscles twitch.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry, and shifted slightly, pressing a kiss to your clit before leaning back up to feel another wave of release threatening to overcome him when he sees your content expression, hands loosening their grip in his raven hair, half lidded eyes meeting his own before they trail down. "Y-You.." You didn’t know what to say, couldn’t have spoken even if you tried.

A lazy smirk made it's way to his lips that caught the light before he licked whatever remnant what was left of you on his fingers.

"I'm a starved man, angel. Cut me some slack." He panted, pinching your bud in emphasis and moved back up before you could even process it, the warmth of his breath retreating, replaced by the cooler air of the room as he straightened. The absence of his lips against you left you gasping, your chest heaving, your pulse thundering in your ears or maybe it was you still riding your orgasm or maybe it was the knowledge that he came in his pants from just eating you out.

Then he was there again, his hands sliding from your thighs to the mattress on either side of you, bracketing you in like a secret he refused to let escape.

"Hi." He breathed against your forehead.

You felt a shy smile twitch on your lips. "Hi." You reply just as breathlessly.

He presses another kiss, this time to the tip of your nose. "I'm gonna fuck you now, yeah?" You couldn’t reconcile it.

How could he say things that made your cheeks flush, your body respond in ways you couldn’t control, while his lips brushed against your temple with a tenderness that felt like an apology?

How could he make you feel like you were unraveling and being held together all at once?

You wanted to know. "Mhm. Please." You mewl, hands softly going through the beautiful mess that you made of his hair.

"Please, what?" He demanded, lips on your cheek.

"Please fuck me." You whine and he bumped his nose against your face, chest rumbling from a sound so feverish that you can't help but grind against him again. Coaxing his cock back into hardness with your bare cunt against him, from the realization that you shared the insatiable urges with him.

It got his hand trembling when they reached down to unbind his belt, pushing the fabric down his hips to reveal predicament he's made of his boxers that were bounding his hard, leaking cock but hell if he had it in himself to care.

He had been bidding his time for far too long. Waited enough—longer than any man should have to wait for something that felt this inevitable, this right, this his.

Ridding himself of the last piece of clothing on him, other than the white dress shirt that flexed against his coiled muscles, he took himself In a fist, groaning when he pumped himself in one slow stroke. Eyes never leaving your wide ones like you weren’t sure if you should be impressed, intimidated, or both.

Your breath hitched audibly, and your chest rose and fell as your eyes darted from his face to the undeniable evidence of his arousal. Heat bloomed across your cheeks, but you couldn’t seem to tear your gaze away, couldn’t stop the thought that immediately took hold.

"You're too big." Your throat dry, and your fingers fisted the sheet beneath you, trying not too think too much about how thick he would feel down your throat. The sounds he'd make when you would lick him just right.

"And you're gonna take every inch." He said it like a statement, a prominent vein popping in his neck when he finally let go of the locked gaze and focused instead on compressing the tip of his angry, veiny cock to your slick folds.

"Won't you, angel?" He asks with a confident smirk passed your way for a second before his breath wavered again, brows scrunched together and if it wasn't for his tip nudging inside you, you'd thought him endearing.

But once his tip is actually is in, you're left with no thought. Rendered speechless, eyes falling shut when he starts to jab inch by inch.

"Dear lord—" You gasp out loud. The sheet beneath you not providing much semblance so you switch to his shoulders. And you swear, he feel him shake when he is finally all in. Closes his eyes and relishes in your heat stretching around. "Fucking hell." The sensation was overwhelming—heat and softness so consuming it felt like his mind short-circuited, every thought dissolving into static.

But you feel that its your pussy that feels like it's going to split apart any moment now that's stopping him from moving. And partly it is. "You're so..tight." He hisses out and squeezes your hips with great roughness.

"Been long since you've been fucked, eh?" He muses, dark hungry eyes devouring yours when he makes an attempt to move inside you like he was testing your limits. Your mind reels, caught between the sharpness of the initial sensation and the overwhelming desire that followed.

He felt impossibly big, like your body wasn’t prepared for the sheer intensity of him, and for a fleeting moment, doubt crept into your thoughts.

It’s been so long.

The thought came unbidden. Your body had grown used to quiet nights and cold sheets, to the impersonal hum of a vibrator and the absence of warmth.

"Been so long." You confirm, nails clawing at his shoulders, mimicking the roughness that only spurs him on. His lashes fluttered shut, his forehead drops to your shoulder and with a whine of disagreement from you, he pulls back fully just to (to your satisfaction) bury himself back to the hilt.

An unadulterated moan from you broke the silence, a sound so sweet it made him want to come right there and then again. But he'd much rather have you convulse first. Priorities.

His jaw clenched, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he started to move his hips against yours, slow and deliberate, like he needed to feel every inch of your.

Your legs tensed around his hips, pulling him closer. You couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the way your body reacted to him, your mind a dizzy blur of heat and need and overwhelming sensation.

He pulled back again, the drag of him leaving you feeling empty, only to return with the same slow, measured thrust.

“That’s right,” he muttered, his voice rough and uneven, barely coherent through the sounds your free spilling moans and the fact that his face was buried in the crook of your shoulder. “You’re—fuck, you’re perfect.” His voice unrefined at the edges, raw with honesty and disbelief, like he couldn’t believe you were really here, with him, like this.

Your hands slid down his back, clinging to the flexing muscles beneath your palms. You suddenly didn't like that his shirt was still on. Wanting to map out his bare skin with every graze of your nails. But with each thrust, pleasure sparked at the base of your spine and spread outward, your thoughts scattered like autumn leaves.

"Yeah- Oh mphm! Just like that!" He flourished in your cries of encouragement, his grip on your hips tightening, his fingers digging into your skin as he was afraid he'd lose control too soon.

And you wanted nothing more. "F-Faster! Please go faster!" His pace was unhurried but devastating, every pull and thrust deliberate, designed to drag you to the edge and keep you there, teetering. You couldn’t take that anymore.

And Jungkook couldn’t take keeping you unsatisfied. His lips found the corner of your mouth, brushing against it in a fleeting kiss before moving lower, his teeth grazing your jaw. His hands moved to your thighs, urging them higher, wrapping them around his waist as he drove into you with more force, more intent.

“taking me so well, was made for this cock.” Were made for me. he praised, his voice sounding like a backdrop to the obscene sounds his hips snapping against yours as your own body moved with his, meeting him with the same intensity, the same desperate need. "Yeah." He grunted, punctuating his words with a squeeze to your boob. "Fuck me back. Use me. Feel me."

All you could possibly do was feel him.

He felt like fire and electricity all at once, a heat that spread from your core to the very tips of your fingers and toes.

“Jungkook…” you whispered again, your voice catching on the syllables when his head tipped forward, his forehead pressing against yours, his damp hair brushing your skin.

He whimpered in response, a deep, guttural sound that reverberated through you, and he pistoned his cock harder, pulling a cry from your lips that you couldn’t hold back.

"I-I missed you." You can feel tears gather in your eyes again. You don't even know why. Why you're repeating what you've already admitted. Why the words feel more vulnerable now. All you know that you missed him and the coil is tightening in your stomach.

Jungkook, too feels like he will break down any moment when he stares down at you. But he’s got a impending orgasm to deliver.

He kisses your eyelids, is tempted to lick the tears that slowly make their way down to your chin but doesn't. He's not sure he'll be able to handle the taste of your despair without feeling like he has to chastise himself for ever being the reason for it.

"I know. I know." His cock thrusts with renewed vigor. "I missed you too. I missed you." He says through his gritted teeth, feeling how your walls fluttered around him.

"Gonna cum now?" He knows what your answer will be. There's a smug underline tone in his rasps that gives him away. How he takes pride in knowing that he's the one to make you release all this tension; once on his mouth; then on his cock that is pulsing with an reoccurring ache.

You can only manage to nod, lips tightly tucked between your teeth, hands scratching and marking on his once crisp shirt that is now crumpled from the fate of your hands.

"Gonna soak my cock, huh? Go ahead, baby. Go ahead and come with me." He demands, his hand slipping between you to rub tight circles against your puffy clit that is just enough to tip you over at last.

"Koo.. ah..oh god!" The name you've always called him with a fondness falls unintentionally from your lips when your walls tighten for the last time and you release all over his cock that is now stuttering with it's every thrust.

"Oh fuck. Call me that again." He all but snarls. Cock turns firmer inside your heat that hugs him. And balls screw up.

"Koo.." You whine and that's all he needs before thick ropes of white hot cum is spilling inside you, filling you to the brim. "Mhm, take it all. There's my girl. Pussy looks so good stuffed with my cum." He grinds the best his spent body can into yours that still welcomes him and fuck if that doesn't make him never want to leave.

And he doesn't, for a moment, when he collapses onto you. Just not enough to crush you under his weight. Just enough to latch his lips where ever he can find and whisper words of affection. "Could'nt fucking breathe without you." He's yet to get enough of you. This life won't suffice, he thinks. Then finally pulls out his softening cock from your slick hole with a hiss.

You too feel the loss the of the connection that had pulsed faintly between you, leaving you achingly empty.

He moved with the same carefulness, reaching for the tissues on the bedside table. The room was quiet save for your mingled breaths as he knelt beside you, his touch impossibly tender as he wiped at the inside of your thighs. You shivered under the cool press of the tissue against your skin, the sensation making you acutely aware of the aftermath—the way your body still quivered, the way your breaths still came uneven.

You stared at the ceiling while he did so, the edges of your perception blurred as you tried to silence the tingles that still hummed across the length of your legs. A reminder of how throughly he had disentangle you, how throughly his very essence had penetrated into you.

You were ruined by him.

There was no going back from this. You knew that.

What scared you was the realization that you didn’t want to.

You just didn't know how to admit that out loud where everyone and he could hear you.

Your eyes seeked out for him as if that alone could answer all your questions. He returned back against you without a question. Hands finely adjusted the strap of your dress and drew you closer to him with a soft voice, hoarse from the strain of everything he’d given you. "Come here, angel." Bundled you up in his arms and then only did he breathe out.

Your breath stayed differing. “Why do you call me that?” Your voice was curious but tentative. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you.”

You felt his lips curve up against your temple. "You were wearing this really pretty white dress the first time I met you." he began, his voice quiet, almost wistful. “Had these frills on the sleeves. I thought you looked like an angel."

You tried to piece together the memory. “That was so long ago."

It might be understood that it takes months to fall in love but Jungkook had been falling all his life.