#i just fucking know he would talk them into it

[capn-merca]

Chappel Roan also refused to encourage her audience to vote against making being trans illegal, and then went on SNL with a TERF. Her actions speak A LOT louder than her empty words; she’s just another cis “ally” who prides themselves on vocally supporting “those trans freaks” while being all to happy to sit back and let somebody else get rid of us. What a fucking coward. People like her don’t care about us anymore than we are a political argument to be won. Just once I’d like to be treated like a damn human being, but no, Chappel Roan is using me to gain clout with the queers, without ever actually having to stand up for us in a way that really matters, while actively throwing us under the bus. I really need her to shut up about trans people man, she was talking about how Trumps plans for us was no big deal! How the fuck is that in any way an ally? And again, she went on SNL with a well known TERF. She gotta shut up about trans people before I loose my entire fucking mind my god she makes me so fucking furious.

I should add that the main kick off for this rant was putting Gaga and Roan on the same level. Gaga is and will always be the goat. Also, sorry to be negative on what’s trying to be a positive post, seeing Chappell Roan beside Gaga just kinda set me off.

At least two major artists (Lady Gaga and Chappell Roan) making a point to vocally support trans people the Grammys is a big deal in this political climate.

[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

WARNINGS ✧ dynamic between characters (with enha members), fluffs, soft and sappy moments, soft love, loverboy heeseung, 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.

video call (part 1)

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.

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, 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 discernible to their ears. 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 while 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 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 tone the PDA down 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 are driving to your shared apartment with him, 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 sexual drive.

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 sheer 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 anything, finding it incredibly hot that your sweet, gentle boyfriend is uttering such degrading words to you. 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 lips 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 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 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 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. 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 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, eliciting 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 to 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 drags on your orgasm a little longer 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 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.

“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 on 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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[aureatelys]

adore you

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader w.c. 3k a/n: written for @mggslover's 1k celebration event, congrats baby! i initially wrote 5k, hated it, and basically rewrote all of it but i swear i still had fun writing this. i hope you enjoy <3

summary:

Weird. You're acting like my boyfriend. - God Is a Freak, Peach PRC Your boss has essentially become your best friend. What the hell does Derek mean he looks at you a certain way?

c.w.: fluff! friends to lovers, age gap ofc, feelings realization, reader is oblivious and tipsy but is a consenting party

read below or on ao3 here <3

“So, you and Hotch, huh?”

You had just finished putting your coat up, stepping through the massive entryway of Rossi’s mansion, when Derek approaches you with that familiar shit-eating grin and hands rubbing together like he’s scheming something.

You blink up at him, confused. “Yeah… he gave me a ride.”

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head but still wearing that smile that made you want to lovingly punch him. “Yeah, I saw that. I meant, you and Hotch aren’t…?”

You squint at him, because you really aren’t sure what he’s hinting at. Also, a glass of wine has been calling your name since you started getting ready and Derek is very much in the way of that. Hotch was always annoyingly punctual, and today was no different because you were honestly about to open up a bottle when you heard his car pull up in the driveway. “We aren’t what?”

“Sweetness. You’re really trying to tell me you and Hotch aren’t together?”

You choke on your spit, coughing so loud in your fist that it echoes down the entryway and gathers the attention of Rossi and Hotch at the end of it. You wave them off when they both give you equally alarmed and concerned looks while Derek laughs heartily, like the asshole he is.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss at him, slapping him on the shoulder as he nearly makes himself tear up from laughing.

Derek puts a somewhat apologetic hand on your arm as he steers you to the kitchen and pours you a glass of red, finally. “Hey, I see the way he looks at you, I just wanted to make sure I’m up to date on everything.”

And that catches your attention.

Your chest still aching from your coughing fit, you give him another perplexed look. “What? He looks at me the same way as he looks at everyone.”

Derek’s face morphs into a nervous, almost uncomfortable one as he starts slowly backing away into the living room, as if you were an unpredictable dangerous animal. “I think I’m gonna… look for Garcia.”

And then he turns on his heel and is out of the kitchen before you can blink, leaving you with your lone glass of wine and the sounds of laughter emanating from the patio.

You’re still so fucking confused, because you and Hotch were only friends. In fact, you can almost consider him your best friend with the way you two are spending so much time together, even on the weekends.

One late night spent in his office to work on reports that were due the next day that you had procrastinated on and ordering Chinese food eventually turned into a habitual thing, now spending the last hour of the workday every night in his office. Then, he started inviting you to the park to play with Jack who had apparently been asking for you, then staying for dinner because Hotch was not eating the way he should’ve been and him and Jack didn’t deserve to eat pizza rolls with mac and cheese every night.

It's been a couple of months and now, you can honestly say you two are nearly attached at the hip. You’ve tried to tone it down for the office, because you knew you would get teased, and clearly you were right.

But dating Hotch? Honestly, the thought had never occurred to you.

You’ve been single for over a year and you were okay with that, because at least the job kept you busy. And you know for a fact that Hotch hasn’t even thought about dating since Beth moved a couple of years ago.

The sudden thought of Beth, her pretty blue-green eyes and perfect hair, causes a sour taste to form in your mouth. You had never met her, having only technically heard good things about her, but every time you thought of her or someone mentioned her in passing, you felt… upset.

For no reason.

When you glance at Hotch from where he’s talking with the rest of the team on the patio, you catch his gaze for a brief second before he’s turning his head back around to chuckle at something Rossi says.

You feel your heart start to race, your blood rushing through your ears, because what the fuck did Derek mean when he said Hotch looks at you a certain way? You were telling the truth when you said you’ve only noticed him looking at you platonically and nothing more.

Sure, Hotch was conventionally attractive, handsome even. You guess he hit all your boxes in a guy; tall, capable hands, and pretty brown eyes. He was a good boss, a good man, and was always putting other people first before even thinking about himself. He had an intense sense of justice, loves children, and would do absolutely anything for his team and even beyond for Jack.

He has a nice laugh once you break down his walls. For all he’s meticulous at work, his house is absolutely chaotic and it takes you nearly an hour sometimes to get him and Jack ready for a soccer game. He doesn’t prefer to cook but he seems to enjoy it more when you’re in the kitchen with him, laughing at his technique and groaning about the lack of certain utensils.

The sudden realization that you like Hotch, your boss that is older than you by 20 years, hits you like a ton of bricks. You nearly snap the stem of your wine glass, something like panic and mortification climbing up your throat before you could help it.

It’s fine, you’re fine. It’s normal to have a crush on someone you spend time with on a regular basis and is conventionally attractive. You can deal with that.

But the absolute possibility that Hotch doesn’t want you romantically was very real. In fact, it had to be the only possibility. You were younger and less experienced, both romantically and professionally. The only reason that he’s been spending so much time with you was because you needed guidance and reassurance as the newest member of the team.

He doesn’t look at you any differently than the others. That’s it. Derek has no idea what he’s talking about.

You take a shuddering deep breath, quickly composing yourself because, hello, you work with profilers. Which meant you couldn’t avoid or hide from Hotch tonight, no matter how much you wanted to.

When you make your way out to the patio to join the others with a full glass of wine and you spot the only space left in the circle was between Spencer and Penelope, you internally thank whatever God was out there. The sound of them talking over each other about something inane was oddly comforting as your eyes met Aaron’s from the other side of the circle.

His eyes appeared golden from the numerous fairy lights strewn across Rossi’s backyard, making his face appear softer and younger. You’re not sure how it took you this long to realize he was so handsome.

He raises his eyebrows at you, silently asking if you were okay because, somehow, he’s grown to learn your facial expressions like the back of his hand, which means he most likely will catch on to you having a silly juvenile crush on him.

You give him a weak smile, raising your glass slightly before taking a large gulp of it. You’re glad that Rossi is Rossi and that he doesn’t spare any expenses when he throws his parties, the strong cherry flavor refreshing compared to your cheap boxed wine you’re used to. You don’t even remember what you were celebrating tonight, or if you were even celebrating anything at all and this was just another much needed get together after case after case.

You catch something soft in Hotch’s eyes that makes your chest pang painfully as he raises his own glass of whiskey before taking a sip. No one else has noticed, too enthralled by their own conversations, so the intimacy of the private moment doesn’t escape you, in fact making you even more anxious.

It was going to be a long night.

-

You are absolutely going to give Derek an earful on Monday morning.

It’s entirely his fault that you’re not enjoying Rossi’s party to the full extent, his words swimming in your mind.

Now, you’re psychoanalyzing and second-guessing everything Hotch does.

You had made sure to walk alongside Penelope on the way to the large round table for dinner, somewhat consciously as you continued to avoid Hotch but also because she was rambling about the show you suggested she watch. Spencer was on the other side of you, interjecting whenever he could, and you made a mental note that Hotch was still on the other side of the circle between Rossi and Tara.

So imagine your surprise when, after you tear your attention away from Spencer’s ramblings and back to Penelope, you’re met with Hotch’s pretty eyes and woodsy cologne instead.

“Oh, hi,” you say, hoping he doesn’t hear the shakiness that’s suddenly overtaken your voice as that familiar panic starts to crawl up your throat. This wasn’t going to be good.

“’Hi.” The corners of Hotch’s lips quirk up, eyes softening, and what the fuck is going on. “Can I sit next to you?”

You swear you’re going to have a heart attack. This man cannot be healthy for you. “Oh, yeah, sure.”

And then he’s pulling out your chair for you.

And it’s not anything new—he pulls your chair out for you all the time, in the conference room, in his dining table when you made not-pizza rolls, and even at restaurants the afternoons after Jack’s soccer games. You’ve never thought anything of it, but tonight, after your impeccably timed realization, your brain feels like it’s going to implode.

He’s just being a gentleman, that’s all.

“Thank you,” you manage out, heat starting to come to your face. Before Hotch, no one’s ever pulled your chair out for you. It’s nice.

Hotch doesn’t say anything, because of course not, just scoots your chair in closer to the table before he takes his seat on your right.

And he’s sitting really fucking close to you.

Have you always sat this close to each other before? You must have at least once during those late nights in his office, poring over case file after case file.

Not only could you feel the heat of his body just from sitting next to him, but his arm kept brushing up against your bare one while he ate, because of course you had to sit on the left side of a left-handed person. Every brush of the sleek fabric of his green button-up against your bare arm sent shivers down your spine despite the summer air, making you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

His hand kept brushing against yours as you ate and your eyes are drawn to how large his hands are as he handles his fork and the thickness of his forearms, having had rolled up his sleeves earlier. If you searched closely, you could find scars scattered over them through the dusting of hair, undoubtedly from his time on the job.

You don’t realize you’re staring at his Rolex and the way it glints underneath the lights, until Hotch is suddenly leaning into you. “Are you okay?”

Jesus Christ, hearing that smooth voice speaking lowly in your ear, breath warm as it fans over your cheek, causes all of the air in your lungs to escape. Has his voice always been that smooth, attractive?

When you risk a glance at him, conversations around the table slowly fading into the background, his face is merely inches from yours. His brows are pinched in concern and lips are pressed into a flat line. There’s something dancing in his eyes that you couldn’t quite put a finger on.

You clear your throat. “Sorry, I think the wine is just getting to me.”

He chuckles low underneath his breath. “Good thing I’m driving.”

And then he’s knocking the back of his hand against yours, the briefest brush of skin that causes electricity to zing up your spine, and then he’s back to listening intently to Derek and Emily’s bickering over who cheated at the last game of charades.

At this point, you think Hotch is able to read your mind. Why else would he be touching you, be sweet on you, if not to torture you?

You try to wrack your brain through these past couple of months, trying to find whether Hotch touching his hand to yours has happened before or any other sign that he actually is attracted to you. You come up short.

You chalk it up to him loosening up from his whiskey. He’s already moved onto water, because he was your ride, after all, so maybe this was a fluke. A one-off.

But it’s not a one-off. In fact, you think you’ve honestly died and gone to Heaven after suddenly tripping and breaking your head open in the entryway after Derek spoke with you. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were actually on a date with Hotch, sans the rest of the team.

He must have noticed your distracted mood, because he’s making sure you’re included in almost every table conversation by glancing at you and giving you a smile that has started to make something flutter in your stomach. He’s participating minimally like usual, content to listen, but whenever he has a comment or thought he wants to share, he’s leaning in and sharing it with you.

He's leaning in to top of your wine, reaching over the table to get more of those green beans you like, and once even knocking his knee against yours underneath the table when you looked especially lost in thought while staring at your plate.

And then when the team has moved into the living room for charades, Emily wanting payback against Derek, it somehow gets even worse.

You’re quick enough to be the first to volunteer to not play due to there being an odd number of players, thus requiring Hotch to play. Everyone cheers teasingly, because Hotch is always quick to volunteer himself out of games, content to watch.

You blame the copious glasses of wine you’ve consumed and the decadent filling dinner, warmth thrumming through your entire body, when you poke at Hotch’s considerably firm bicep. “Show us what you got, old man.”

There are resounding oohs and aahs from the rest of the team. Something fuzzy settles in your chest when Hotch rolls his eyes good-naturedly at you and stands up from where he had sat next to you on the couch to JJ’s team.

You continue to nurse your wine, pleasantly buzzed, as you are thoroughly entertained by your team’s antics. Emily and Rossi argue at least 3 times, Penelope gets significantly close to having a private meeting with HR, and Hotch continues to stare at you.

Or at least, you think he’s staring at you. The alcohol has started making you second guess things even more than you already were. Because for some reason, despite JJ sitting on the other side of the living room and being on a team with her, he moved to sit in the empty spot next to you after the first round.  

He’s definitely participating in the game, even in second place behind Penelope and Derek, but you swear you feel his eyes on you now more than ever.

It’s distracting as you try to follow the game and guess along with everyone else. This time, the right side of him is nearly molded against your left side, pressing into you so hard that you’re starting to sweat from how much body heat he’s radiating.

When you glance at him to try and catch his eyes, he meets your gaze steadily. His hair is starting to come undone, a few strands falling against his forehead, and his dimple seems to have made a permanent appearance from how much he’s pretending not to laugh at his team’s antics.

It’s nice to see him enjoy himself—a flush rising up his neck and shoulders relaxed. Although you understand he has a certain image he maintains for his team, it’s become familiar to you.

By the time it dwindles close to midnight, there’s a chorus of yawns around the group. Penelope’s the first to call it, stumbling to grab a hold of Derek’s arm and dragging him with her out the door to drive her home, ruining your initial plans to catch a ride home with her instead of Hotch. After that, everyone starts to say their goodnights and exchanging hugs despite the chance you may get called on a case as early as tomorrow morning.

“You ready to go?” Hotch leans to whisper in your ear, his breath fanning over you again and causing heat to rise to your face.

“Absolutely,” you exhale, clutching the water bottle that Hotch retrieved for you in the middle of the game, hoping the breathiness in your voice could be blamed on how late it was.

When you get to Hotch’s car, heart full and warm after spending another wonderful evening with your makeshift family, he opens the passenger side door for you.

You think you’re going to lose your mind if he keeps this up. How are you supposed to stop having a crush on Hotch when he keeps doing things that justify that crush?

“Do you need to stop anywhere for anything? Are you hungry?”

You blame it on the wine despite the fact you’ve been drinking nothing but water for the past hour, thanks to Hotch silently getting you and only you a water. Your body and tongue feels loose, inhibitions naturally decreased, and it’s not your fault. It doesn’t matter if the soft lights of the driveway highlight the sharp angles of his face or the way his woodsy cologne has infiltrated your senses.

“Weird, you’re acting like my boyfriend or something.”

The silence that ensues is deafening. Your brain takes forever to catch up with you, but then you’re suddenly struck with humiliation and dread. You mind starts to race, as best as it could, when you realize that you may have just royally messed up the best job you’ve ever had and the best group of people you’ve ever met.

Before you can backtrack and say that you were just joking, Hotch carefully says “Do you want me to be?”

“What?” Wow, you really can’t hold your alcohol well, why did you drink so much wine?

And then Hotch is stepping closer, into your space, and you’d be worried that the rest of the team was going to see if the car door wasn’t shielding you from view from the front of the house. You get a whiff of whiskey on his breath again, but when you meet his eyes, there’s not a hint of the same full body dizziness you feel.

“Was I not being direct enough?” There’s amusement sparkling in his eyes, eyebrows raised. He looks like he’s politely trying to hide a fond smile. He’s teasing you.

This Hotch is the one you’ve grown to become familiar with over the past several months. Charming and unafraid to tease you when you’re away from prying eyes. Hotch is a private person, always has been, so it’s not a surprise that him essentially torturing you tonight was his version of being direct.

“You’ve been flirting with me?”

Hotch ducks his head bashfully to chuckle. It’s ridiculously endearing and you want to tug him closer and touch him all over. “I’ve been trying to flirt with you all month so I’m guessing I didn’t do a very good job.”

You stare at him as if he grew a second head, suddenly feeling much more sobered up than 5 minutes ago. Clarity sluggishly comes to you. The various invitations to spend the night or go out to dinner without Jack comes to mind. The touching had steadily increased, but you had assumed it was just due to Hotch getting more comfortable around you.

For a profiler, you weren’t very good at noticing what was happening right in front of you.

Hotch may be a ridiculously patient person, clearly since he’s been content to flirt with you for apparently a month while you didn’t notice, but you were not. You knew what you wanted. The wine still thrumming through your veins just gave you that little extra push.

You place your palms on his chest, relishing in the subtle firmness you can detect through his shirt, and you wonder if that’s his heart you feel thumping erratically or your own. “I promise I’m not that drunk and am fully aware of what is going on right now.”

Hotch hums and places his hands on your hips, the heat of him searing through the fabric of your dress. His eyes briefly flit to your mouth before back up at you. “I’m not sure if I believe you.”

Instead of providing a snarky response, and because you know Hotch wouldn’t make the first move since you did have some to drink, you finally lean in to close the distance between you two to kiss him.

It’s soft, chaste in a way that makes you feel pleasantly warm all over, the barest tendrils of electricity tugging at the pit of your stomach. The intensity of how much you like him, how much you adore him, nearly barrels you over, but Hotch’s grip on you tightens, steadying you. His lips only slightly move against yours, as if briefly testing the waters, but it does nothing to quell the sudden desire slowly twisting inside of you.

When he pulls back, chest only marginally heaving, you instinctively chase after him. He chuckles again, low and comforting, as his hands come up to hold you still by the shoulders. It shouldn’t feel as nice and soothing as it does. “I should take you home.”

“Are you coming with me?” You sincerely hope that Hotch doesn’t question you and your boldness tomorrow. Again, not entirely your fault.

“I’ll walk you to your door, how about that?” As if he already wasn’t going to do that.

On the drive back to your apartment, the tight ball of panic and uncertainty in your chest quickly unfurls and is replaced by affection, tenderness, and promises of the future. Hotch’s hand, large and protective, doesn’t leave your thigh the entire way home.

You make a mental note to send Derek a gift card and thank you note on Monday.

[gumii-bearr]

idea maybes

academic rival/nerd satoru… him acting all high and mighty and then is an utter virgin (but you are tew so you too together are hopeless)

YESSSSSSSS HAHAHAHA

thinking about... ❝ hopeless nerds ❞

featuring... satoru gojo

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, nerd!virgin!gojo, nerd!virgin!reader, academic rivals, two dorks, gojo is such an asshole, smut, creampie, praise kink, masturbation, inexperienced dorks tryna bang, dare i say crybaby dom gojo, sexual tension, somnophilia, sexually frustrated nerds

author's note: im sorry i haven't posted in a while!!!! my town has flooded and we've lost power a few times and i can't leave my house :,)

── nerd!gojo immediately pissing you off the moment he opens his fucking mouth.

── nerd!gojo who shares a few classes with you and he's always talking over you, has to prove your points wrong even when you back them up with facts and research.

── he does it to make you mad, you know he does. he does it because it's so easy to make you mad and it's fucking cute how your nose scrunches and how you fold your arms over your chest and give him the cold shoulder the rest of the lesson.

── "fuck you, satoru."

── "oh you wish, sweetheart."

── nerd!gojo who purposely sits next to you in class because he knows his presence drives you up the wall.

── he points out holes in your research, steals your pens off your desk, leans on your shoulder and stays there no matter how much to elbow his side, there is no peace with him.

── nerd!gojo who is tied for best grade in the class with none other than you. and fuck it makes him mad, though he would never admit it.

── nerd!gojo who teases you when you're even a single point behind him when you get your grades back.

── nerd!gojo who never hears the end of it when you do better than him on a test or essay.

── nerd!gojo who may find you annoying, but he also finds your competitiveness and smart-ass demeanour fucking hot.

── you're the only person to ever one-up him. give him a run for his place as the smartest guy in class.

── you're single-handedly his motivation to do better in class. not because he wants to, but because he needs to win.

── you're so smug when you win and you're so hot-headed when you don't. he starts to find it fucking confusing when you bicker with him or insult his intelligence and he finds it... hot.

── you could be calling him every colourful name under the sun and he would just stand there and take it with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face and his eyes peeking over his sunglasses and staring at your pretty lips.

── nerd!gojo who is also virgin!gojo, which you would never have guessed with how he holds himself– always so outwardly confident and always has soooo much to say.

── virgin!gojo who has maybe kissed two girls his whole life, forced to hole himself up in his dorm and fist his cock when he's so beyond frustrated.

── virgin!gojo who finds himself starting to think about... you.

── virgin!gojo who thinks about burying his virgin cock inside you, fucking you stupid on his cock since you always seem to have something to say.

── you find it fucking weird when he doesn't shoot back with a sarcastic comment one morning, his eyes unable to meet yours.

── now you know something's wrong because it always makes gojo's day when he sees your face flush and watches you stomp around all angry and annoyed at him.

── virgin!gojo who doesn't know what to do when he's cornered by you in the library, and for the first time, he sees you be genuine toward him.

── "aw, you care about me."

── "you know what? forget it."

── virgin!gojo who knows he needs to just shut his big mouth for once and he finally does– by slamming you against the closest bookshelf and messily kissing you like his life depends on it.

── virgin!gojo who realises he's super out of practice when it comes to kissing... or maybe you're both bad.

── virgin!gojo who panics when he gets you back to his dorm room, clumsy fingers pulling your clothes off while you nervously pull at his.

── it's slow and it's messy and there's very obviously an elephant in the room that neither of you want to address.

── but you finally bite the bullet.

── "i'm a virgin."

── "you telling me no one's ever wanted to fuck that bitchy attitude out of you?"

── "don't piss me off."

── virgin!gojo who admits he too is a virgin.

── the two of you acknowledge that there's been a sexual tension brewing between you two for a while... so maybe you should just fuck it out.

── virgin!gojo who sinks to his knees, throwing your thighs over his shoulders and pressing his curious tongue against your soaked slit.

── no one's ever touched you like that– you're getting riled up just seeing him between your thighs.

── virgin!gojo who is finally fucking quiet and lets you show him when you guide him on how to finger you. you show him where to touch you, how to touch you, where to lick and suck on you.

── and virgin!gojo who listens and he's a fast learner because he wants to please you.

── and when virgin!gojo finally sinks his huge fucking cock inside you. you nearly fucking scream.

── and virgin!gojo who has no idea he's big. no one's ever seen his cock, or felt it. he's had nothing to compare it to–

── "you're so fucking big."

── "oh, yeah? you like it, baby?"

── virgin!gojo who didn't think he'd like dirty talk as much as he does. but he likes how you whine and moan just from his voice, how he can rile you up and have you soaking his dick and the sheets just from telling you what a good girl you are.

── but also virgin!gojo who is a fucking whiner when he's getting close to his high. your virgin cunt is so warm and tight, he's never experienced such fucking bliss.

── he's whining about how good you feel, how he's never felt something so fucking mind-blowing. he just keeps fucking talking cus if he doesn't he's gonna cum.

── and virgin!gojo who fucking cries when he cums because he's on cloud fucking nine. his hips slap erratically, his thrusts are shallow and fast as he approaches his high and his fists curl into the sheets by your head to keep him grounded.

── and you just wrap your arms around his neck, hold him close as he breathes in your intoxicating scent, arms wrapped around you as he keeps his cock buried inside you alongside the ropes of cum he messily spilled inside you.

── and nerd!gojo who keeps his cock buried inside you all night, unable to part from your tight warmth.

── and you don't mind, you just pet his hair and tell him how good he did.

── and of course, nerd!gojo who wakes you up with quiet breathes by your ear, his hips slapping against your plush ass because he can't get enough of you.

── nerd!gojo who makes it his mission to make you cum. obsessed with watching you fall apart on his tongue and his fingers, or on his cock or his thigh.

── really just nerd!gojo who finds out a lot about himself and is no longer virgin!gojo because of you.

author's note: someone bring me a NERD RIGHT NOW

permanent taglist: @exclusiverinaa @starpachinko @kentotism @gumisueme @arcanefeelings @cyslips @sojumamii @naammiii @jvpit3rr @nvvxlaya @2ukika @ashyiiy @jud3thedude @antiblfanon14 @capsule-losing-contact @mrs-okkotsu222 @somethinglikero @raya4643 @julieannah @arasakaa @luciferslover @re-tired-succubus @xastoriaaurax @girlexpensive @sobbingscripter @bakuhoe37 @doechiiyz @evergumi @showtimejoseph @kimkimoruo

[sirfrogsworth]

Canada: The Crudest Crude Oil

So, Canada has some shitty oil.

I don't know what Canada oil ate, but it might need a juice cleanse or something.

Trump is putting a 10% tariff on this shit.

This is called heavy sour crude oil. Because not all crude oil is the same. It can be light. It can be sweet. It can be heavy. It can be sour. Light and sweet is the easiest to refine. Heavy and sour (the Canada poop) is the most difficult.

But the US specializes in refining the shittiest crude. That's why we import so much from Canada. We have developed the best technologies to turn this shitty tar sand oil into something useful. We buy it cheap from Canada, make it useful (gas, kerosene, plastics, asphalt, etc), and then resell it.

This ends up being about a $700 billion business that generates about $175 billion in tax revenue.

To make things more interesting, the US has a lot of its own oil. Which is why Trump loves to say "drill, baby, drill." But our oil is light and sweet. It's the good stuff. Easy to refine.

That's good... right?

Not so fast!

Since no other countries are very good at processing the shit oil, we send our good stuff to Europe. They can easily refine it and we make a lot of money selling it to them.

Here's the rub...

The US isn't really set up to refine the good shit. Most of our refinery infrastructure is meant to process the Canada poop. So even though we technically have plenty of our own oil, we don't really have a lot of places to process it.

So I guess we would have to send it to Europe and buy it back.

Or we would have to build new refineries.

Or we would have to get shit oil from other places.

And those places?

Russia and Venezuela.

I have no idea if Trump understands any of this. Or if he thinks all oil is the same. But I feel like fucking with a $700 billion industry is bad for the economy.

I really don't understand why this is happening. I don't know if Trump is going rogue and doing this on his own. Or if Putin set this up so we will buy oil from Russia. Or if there is some other special interest group that wants to torpedo our refinery economy.

None of this makes a lot of sense to me and I don't see many people talking about this aspect of the tariff problem. I don't think oil quality is well known to the general public and maybe Trump's puppeteers are counting on that ignorance to do some sinister shit.

In any case, I imagine gas prices are going up. I'm sure the MAGA crowd, famous for being angry at gas prices, will finally see the light and turn on Trump.

I'm just kidding.

They will find some way to say it is a good thing and keep kicking themselves in the nuts.

[carisc4pshaw]

Morning delays

In which Spencer and Fem!Reader are late for work yet again because Spencer can’t keep his hands off her. (Smut!)

word count: 1.3k

tags: porn without plot, Smut, co workers, late to work, love, boyfriend&girlfriend, long term couple, showering together, sex, intimacy, P in V, unprotected P in V, Minor breeding kink, raw sex, 18+, fingering (f receiving), mentions of oral sex (f receiving), nipple play.

warnings: 18+!! whole thing is smut, unprotected sex (don’t be like them guys!)

notes: I don’t think I missed any tags anyway this is the most sexual thing ever written so I hope you horny people enjoy it.

————————-❤️‍🔥—————————

Just before you and Spencer had fallen asleep last night you had set the alarm for 7 am, it probably wasn’t enough time to get ready in the morning but you had a late night watching a movie with your long-term boyfriend not that either you saw much of it because before you got to the halfway point Spencer was on his knees between your thighs sucking your clit and circling your entrance, sliding his tongue into you until you had reached multiple orgasms.

You were certain the alarm hadn’t gone off yet because usually that would wake you straight away but today you were awoken to your boyfriend’s hands up your shirt resting on your breasts and tweaking with your hard-ish nipples. 

“What time is it?” You asked Spencer with a soft moan. 

“Almost 7 am.” 

“Baby we don’t have time, the alarm is about to go off,” You moaned halfway through what you were saying. 

One of Spencer’s hands slid down your stomach, “You want me to stop?”

“Well no…”

“Is your pussy already wet for me darling?” Spencer whispered into your ear. He wasn’t one for dirty talk all the time but when he did it the throbbing between your legs was only ever worse. You needed him badly and by the feel of things, he needed you too. 

You nodded, “Yes Spence.”

“Can I feel?” His hand still moving lower. 

“Yes,” With your signal he slid his hand under the waistband of your panties avoiding your clit as he ran a finger through your folds to collect your wetness, “Mhm Spence.”

“Beautiful, you’re so wet,” He spoke just before the alarm went off. With one quick movement, he took his hand from your panties and switched the alarm off before positioning himself between your legs. 

His large hands landed on your waist gripping you firmly. He leaned down attaching his lips to a nipple swirling his tongue around it for a couple of minutes until moving on to the next. 

His mouth pulled away from your nipple with a loud pop. He rested his hands at the side of your hips playing with the lace of your underwear. 

“Can I take them off now?” He looked straight into your eyes. 

“Please,” You said with a breathy sigh. 

Spencer pulled them off leaving them somewhere in the room, you’d find them later.

“What do you want?” Spencer asked, one of his hands running from your waist to your hip back and forth. 

Your eyes trailed between the both of you where you could see his erection through his boxers. 

“I want that,” You smiled sweetly and innocently. 

“What?” Spencer smirked. 

“Your dick.”

Spencer nodded, “Let me warm you up first.”

With that, he pushed your legs further apart his hands resting on the apex of your thighs, his thumbs nudging your folds due to the size of his hands. 

He used one of his left thumb to run back and forth over your closed folds. 

“Stop teasing we don’t have much time.”

Without another word he plunged his index finger inside of you, quickly curling it inside of you knowing exactly where your most pleasurable spot was. 

“Oh my god. Spence another!” You moaned with a little shout. 

“Yes baby,” Spencer pushed his middle finger inside, pulling them out a small way to push them back in much harder hitting your g-spot as hard as he could.

You reached down between you pressing two fingers to your clit and rubbing it in a quick motion. 

“Oh fuck, Spencer don’t stop,” You moaned loudly throwing your head back. 

Right as you felt your walls begin to tighten around his fingers and that familiar coil in your stomach he pulled his fingers out leaving your core pulsing around nothing. 

“What the fuck babe,” You groaned. You were frustrated, the tears began to well in your eyes. You didn’t want to cry, it just happened when you were frustrated or in this case when you couldn’t reach your peak of pleasure apparently.

“Hey no baby don’t cry,” Spencer wiped the tears from your eyes, “I’m going to make you cum I promise.”

“Why did you stop?” You frowned.

“I wanted you to cum when I was inside of you,” He ran his hand down your hair.

“Oh.”

“Is that okay?” Spencer asked giving you a kiss. 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” You reached for his boxers pulling them down just enough that his erection sprung out of them before he discarded the material completely. 

“How do you want me?” Spencer asked. 

You blushed biting your lip, “Like always.”

“Honey, you’re going to have to be more specific.”

You hid your face in his neck, “Raw,” You muttered.

Spencer smirked, you usually did it like that now that you had been together for three years and knew you were both clean but he loved hearing you say it. 

He rested his dick against your folds rubbing the tip against your clit to relax you again after leaving you without an orgasm a few minutes ago. 

You loved how his veins felt against you when he did that but right now you just craved him filling the empty space inside of you.

“Please,” You stared into his hazel eyes that were clouded with lust.

You breathed in deeply as he pushed the head inside of you slowly, his fingers coming to your clit to help as he entered you. He wasn’t too girthy but he had length and his head always stretched you out the perfect amount that you experienced a slight tweak of pain before the rush of pleasure.

Spencer wasted no time in picking up the pace pounding in and out of you quickly since you really had to be leaving soon, mornings were always for rougher faster sex and the evenings were for when he wanted to spend hours worshipping every inch of your body.

His tip grazed the nerves inside of you with every thrust and that partnered with the firm circles on your clit you knew you weren’t going to last very long. 

“Close already honey?” Spencer moaned feeling your walls tightening around him. 

“Fuck! Mhm,” You couldn’t speak anymore without a sting of moans leaving your mouth. 

“Good girl, hold it, I’m almost there,” Spencer thrust harder, your skin slapping together and your hips colliding.

“Spence please,” You moaned. 

“Yes okay baby okay,” Spencer groaned, “Do you want me to pull out?”

“No inside please.” 

Two more thrusts and you came around his dick just before he spilled his seed deep inside of you. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Spencer kissed your forehead which had a few beads of sweat on it. 

“You felt so good,” You couldn’t help biting your lip and giving him a satisfied look. 

“So did you sweetheart. I’m going to pull out okay?” 

You nodded as he pressed his thumb against your clit only to make small circles as he removed himself from you. It was slightly overstimulating but you knew he was just caring for you and nothing more.

“We are so late, we still need to shower,” You said looking over at the clock. 

“I thought we could shower at work, you know training is first on the schedule you’re just going to get sweaty again,” Spencer shrugged getting up from the bed to find the pieces of discarded clothing. 

“Excuse me? I’m showering before we leave,” You said with your eyes widening. 

“Why?” He asked and you hoped he was reading. 

“Because we smell of sex, from last night and this morning and I have ropes of your cum inside of me.”

Spencer smirked, “Leave it there, that’s pretty hot.” 

“You’re insane,” You rolled your eyes and got up from the bed.

“I was kidding, take a shower but I do like the thought of me being inside of you like that.”

Again you rolled your eyes, walking toward the bathroom, “Are you joining? We will save time and water.” 

“If I ever say no to that question, know there’s something wrong with me,” Spencer said following you through to the bathroom. 

————————-❤️‍🔥—————————

[kaliina-catoe-blog]

No. I hate this take, and I'm sorry to be adding to someone else's post to say it because I genuinely don't want to send hate to OP. But I am so so tired of this HORRIBLE take about Tim. It's completely ridiculous to me to think that Tim Drake is in any way a child who had a normal childhood. "I went to the circus-" Fucking stop. Stop.

Tim Drake, at the ripe old age of TODDLER watched his two heroes fall to their extremely graphic and painful deaths. In front of their child, who we know for sure would have been screaming and crying if not vomiting at the scene. Their child who, earlier that same night, had been happily taking pictures with Tim and treating him so kindly.

Tim would be fucking RUINED just from that alone.

But, adding to that, he also was not giver proper adult supervision for literally almost his entire life before joining the Waynes. By proper, I mean actual real child care. Not school, not just the occasional rotation of nannies he's depicted as having had. Real, actual, care. He was starved for touch and attention and love for years, God knows he wasn't given any therapy after witnessing the death of the Graysons either. Homeboy had so much trauma and was so fucked up as a kid/teen he took to STALKING BATMAN for FUN.

I mean seriously???? Did we read the same character? Tim Drake has every reason to man to become a vigilante. And then? He figures out that Batman and Robin are his neighbors? Specifically that Dick Grayson is Robin? There was never anything that could have stopped Tim from being Robin even if Jason hadn't died.

And then he gets involved and his mom dies and his dad is severely hurt? Yeah. Why do people always insist he should be "normal" or "Okay" or some bullshit? He's a severely mentally ill teenager, and being Robin is one of few things that probably helps him not just go rogue and start fucking murdering people.

Again, do not send hate to OP. And this isn't to say OP is like. A bad fan or some shit. I'm just saying if you're going to talk about a character, you need to know them. And Tim is such an underrated and misunderstood character so it just makes my heart hurt to see people totally not get it.

Go follow OP tho and, give them love to make up for my rant here.

Especially Tim. Barbara at least had the excuse of traumatizing parental death, Tim's backstory? "I went to the circus once when I was three. Also my parents should prbly have gotten a divorce. I attended a lot of boarding schools."

[i2sunric]

HAPPY VALENTINE’S, BABY (l.hs)

PAIRING: heeseung x reader (f)

SUMMARY: you decide to get your nails done for valentine’s day, fully expecting they’d be wrapped around heeseung by the time you got home.

WARNING: smut, blow job, established relationship, mentions of creampie and sex, hand job, dirty talking, pet names (baby), meandom!heeseung, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

WC: 1.1k

PUBLISHED: February 4th 2025

TAGLIST: @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @jakeflvrz @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @cloud-lyy @who-tf-soddhi @enhamonsterghoul

a/n: well, sorry for disappearing, but i’m into writing again nowadays and might publish small drafts i was able to finish! let me know if you liked it, and please REBLOG & SHARE!

You'd spent the afternoon in the nail salon, finding just the right shade of red-deep, sultry, the color of wine and desire. The little black "H" painted onto the ring finger of your left hand was inconspicuous, but meant the world. A little mark of him, a reminder that no matter what, you were his.

Heeseung was already home when you arrived, sprawled across the couch and scrolling through his phone. At first, he barely looked up, greeting you with a soft, lazy, "Hey, baby."

But then you moved closer, holding out your hands for him to see, “Got my nails done for Valentine's," you said matter-of-factly, watching as his expression changes.

His eyes landed on your fingers, his brow arched a little as he took in the color, the ribbons you had attached, then— his initial.

The phone fell onto his lap as he reached out and tugged you closer into him. The pad of his thumb brushed over the small "H," and his jaw slightly clenched.

"You did this for me?" His voice was lower now, the playful tone replaced with something darker, something more possessive that never failed to make heat pool at your stomach.

You smiled, all fake oblivious "Of course. Who else would it be for?"

Heeseung’s lips curled into a smirk, but his grip on your wrist tightened. His eyes flicked up to yours, dark and full of intent. "You know what I’m thinking, right?"

You did. Oh, you did.

He pulled you onto his lap, guiding your newly manicured fingers to brush against the bulge in his sweats. Even through the fabric, you could feel how hard he was getting just from the thought alone.

"Fuck," he muttered, his head tipping back for a moment before snapping back to you. "You knew what you were doing getting these, didn't you?"

You tipped your head, innocently . "What do you mean?"

Heeseung let out a low, amused chuckle, but there was nothing light in the way he reached out, grasping at your chin and making you face him.

"You wanted me to see these and think about them wrapped around my cock, mh?" His thumb traced your lower lip, pressing in just enough to make your breath hitch. "Wanted me to lose my mind over you?" He then pressed in between your lips, making you suck on it.

Your stomach had contracted at his words, the heat pooling between your legs. You loved how he was like this— when teasing turned to something more, more intense and overwhelming.

"You're staring really hard, Hee," you whispered, letting your fingers trace up his chest, your touch light and teasing. "You wanna test them out?"

He exhaled sharply through his nostrils, the hold on your waist tightening as he shifted beneath you. "Get on your knees, baby."

The order ran a shiver down your spine, but you listened, falling off his lap and onto the floor between his legs.

He leaned back, hips rising enough to tug his sweats down and free his cock. Already hard, the tip glistened with precum, and the sight alone had your mouth watering.

"Show me what those pretty nails can do," he murmured, voice thick with desire. You wrapped your fingers around him, moving slow at first, letting him feel the cool polish against his hot skin. His breath hitched and his jaw clenched as he watched your every move.

"Fuck, that's so hot," he groaned, his hand tangling in your hair. "You have no idea how much I love this, baby."

You smirked, leaning in to press a teasing kiss to his tip before flicking your tongue against it, savoring the way his grip tightened, his thighs tensing beneath you.

"Happy Valentine's, Heeseung," you whispered before taking him into your mouth, giving him exactly what he wanted.

The groan that tore from Heeseung's throat was guttural, deep, like he'd been waiting for it all day. His hand in your hair fisted tighter, but he didn't push, didn't hurry you. He wanted to enjoy it.

"Fuck, baby," he muttered, voice already breathless as you took more of him in, your freshly manicured fingers stroking what your mouth couldn't reach. The cool gloss of the polish against his heated skin had him twitching in your grasp, his thighs tensing beneath you. "I’m gonna ruin you.”

You hummed around him, making him curse under his breath. His head tipped back against the couch as his chest rose and fell unsteadily with your movements in slow, measured tempo, allowing your tongue to swirl around the tip before sinking back down.

His free hand was clutched on the edge of the couch, his knuckles white. "God, you're so good at this," he groaned, looking down at you with dark, hooded eyes. "Look at you— fuck, you love this, don't you?

You met his gaze, your eyes wide and innocent as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper. His grip on your hair tightened; his hips jerked up just slightly, just enough to make you gag. But you didn't pull away.

The wet sounds filling the room were sinful, your hands moving in sync with your mouth, twisting around his length with practiced ease. Heeseung was falling apart beneath you, his breathing ragged, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the muscle ticking.

“Shit, baby,” he panted, his head tipping back for a second before he forced his gaze to go back to you, dark with something almost feral. “You’re gonna make me come so fucking fast.”

You smirked around him, moving faster, your nails gliding against his sensitive skin in just the right way. His hips stuttered, his body going tense as he let out a strangled groan.

Then, he pulled you off him as his hand tugged at your chin, making you look up.

"Not yet," he huffed out huskily; his thumb made a swipe of your swollen lips. "I wanna come inside you.

You barely had time to react before he pulled you up onto his lap, his hands grasping your waist, his lips crashing against yours in a bruising, hungry kiss.

“Ah, you're in for it now, baby,” he whispered against your lips, hands sliding under your dress. “Gonna fuck you so good you'll be needing a whole new set of nails by tomorrow..”

And from the way he manhandled you onto the couch, you knew he meant every word.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Luke would be the type to keep his private life very private so him having a gf only really his family and friends in michigan know so the devils have no clue and i could see the boys always trying to get luke to hookup with people for like a whole season till next season when they finally learn luke has had a gf the whole time

Oh boy, 100%. He always just politely tells them he's not interested in dating anyone or having a casual hookup or pretends he doesn't notice what they're doing. Jack 100% does not help, he finds it hilarious when any of the guys are trying to get Luke to talk to some random girl in a bar, but he will 100% confirm to you that Luke is the most loyal boyfriend you could ask for. I also see Luke feeling guilty about it even though he hasn't done anything, so every time he gets back to the apartment he's telling you if you live together or phoning you if you don't and basically confessing his 'sins', like 'i'm so sorry, baby, Marky tried to get me to go out with this blonde and she wouldn't stop touching my arm and I told her I wasn't interested and I only love you.' Definitely reaches a point where he breaks and just goes 'STOP! I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND' and all the guys are just like 'why the hell didn't you tell us this sooner?' Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

"Hey, C'mon, Rusty! What about the blonde at the end of the bar?" Curtis points to a young woman around Luke's age, platinum blonde hair, little black dress, who's eyeing Luke like he might be candy. It doesn't flatter him, if anything it sends a sick feeling to his gut, a roiling discomfort because only you're allowed to look at him like that. You can eye fuck him, no one else. He feels objectified.

"Curtis, I've told you I'm not interested. Not my type." Not his type because his girlfriend is his only type and there's only one of you. It doesn't matter if 100 attractive women all tried to get his number right now, he wouldn't care, wouldn't give it out because you're the one he wants. Literally no one compares to you, he's smitten, whipped, absolutely in love.

"C'mon, seriously! You didn't go out with anyone all last season! Not even a hook up, you're celibate, man! You're young, you should be having fun!" Curtis knocks his shoulder with a grin and Luke just grips his beer tighter, feeling a familiar frustration at the situation. He spent all of last season dealing with the boys trying to goad him into hook ups and flings, throwing women at him like it was their duty to get him laid. He hated every minute of it.

"Yeah, Lukey, you were practically celibate, a monk," Jack chimes in, arm thrown over Luke's shoulder with a grin, the irony of his words not lost on either of them because Luke was definitely not celibate last year. He just wasn't hooking up with random strangers, because he'd started dating you, because you were the only person he wanted to see, to kiss, to sleep with and that still stood firm and true.

"Just go talk to her, maybe you'll get lucky and go home with her tonight! C'mon, what's wrong?" It's Dougie that chimes in this time and Luke wants to die. He wants to die. Or alternative go to your apartment and curl up with you in bed because this is the worst.

"Yeah, are you scared, Lukey?" If Jack wasn't his brother he'd have killed him already, killed him for encouraging all of this bullshit for a year, knowing full well that Luke wasn't single. But, he can't because his mom would be upset if Jack died...he rolls his eyes at him instead, shrugging his arm off of his shoulders.

"You're not secretly a virgin or anything, right, Rusty?"

"Fuck off, Lazar." He snaps, not because it would matter if he was, but because it's stupid that that's the only reason people can comprehend he wouldn't want to sleep around. Maybe it's just not his thing to have hook ups? Maybe he's focusing on his career? Maybe he's already in love and anything else would be cheap and insignificant in comparison?

"Oh, that's hit a nerve, some truth in that?" The guys are all grinning at him like they think they've got it all worked out and it just...it makes him snap, slamming the bottle of beer he'd been cradling to the bar top.

"No, y'know why I don't want to go talk to some random fucking blonde in the bar or hook up with whatever girl you throw my way? Because I've got a fucking girlfriend, okay? I'm not virgin! I'm not celibate! I just don't want to fuck a girl that isn't my girlfriend!" Luke's breathing heavy by the end of it, red it the face because it is so fucking annoying to constantly be bugged about it and he just wants everyone to get off his back. He's happily with you, he doesn't need random hook ups and he certainly doesn't need his team mates trying to get him laid like they have some moral duty to do so.

The way they look at him makes him feel stupid because suddenly they're all calling out variations of, "Dude! Why the fuck didn't you tell us this sooner?!" and he realises that maybe he could have solved this all months earlier by just saying he was seeing someone...like a normal person, maybe? But he'd wanted to keep things private...

He flounders for an explanation, mouth opening and closing, running a hand through his mess curls like that might help his brain to function.

"I just...it was new and...we were keeping it private."

It's Marky that turns to look at Jack, "Did you not know about this?"

"Oh, I knew." Jack is all smug enjoyment, leaning back against the bar and winking at the blonde Curtis had been trying to set Luke up with. Satisfaction rolled off him in cocky waves.

"Why they hell did you let us shove girls at your brother then?" Curtis asks, shocked, nay baffled because Jack had just spent an entire season practically encouraging the behaviour all while knowing full well Luke was dating you.

"It was funny," He shrugs with a grin and mentally Luke is considering whether the price he'd pay is worth putting itching powder in Jack's underwear drawer or maybe if cutting his hair in his sleep would be a better punishment since he can't rip another set of braces off him like Quinn did.

"That's messed up, Jack!" "Yeah, man!"

Luke sighs as the guys all ripped into Jack, downing the last of his beer and grabbing his phone off the bar top.

"Fuck this, I'm going to see Y/N."

"Ohh, you're girlfriend!?" And just like that Luke knows...he knows he's not out of the woods, it's just that the woods have changed from teasing and taunting him about hook ups, to doing so about his girlfriend.

Fuck, he hates being a younger brother.

[dante-mightdie]

long awaited part three of lowselfesteem!reader and simon

part two

invisible clothes

that’s what you called them, the rags you don when you have to integrate with the general population but you would much rather not be noticed. clothing that is so bland that it isn’t nice enough catch an eye but not hideous enough to catch any negative attention

you had told simon about them once, when he called you out on wearing them every time you stepped out in public, including your dates with him. especially since he knew you had a very elaborate wardrobe with a tailored sense of style

clearly they aren’t invisible enough to hide you from johnny’s guilty eyes from across the store aisle. you sigh when he comes up to you, tapping your shoulder to get your attention. he shifts uncomfortably on his feet

“I know ye probably hate ma guts, lass but ye should ken that simon shut down all of that bet talk after your first date. Ah just bring et up to annoy ‘im.” johnny says, with a nervous chuckles at the end. you don’t laugh alongside him

“okay, fair enough. look, he’s miserable without ye! he comes to the pub just to get pished and mope about how he fucked it all up with ye.” johnny continues, a pleading look in his eyes, “he’s supposed to he coming by to drop off some things of yours tomorrow. just hear him out, please, lass.”

you roll your eyes at him, continuing to grab what you need from the shelves in front of you. not even bothering to look him in the eyes when you finally begin to speak

"why should I? why am I always expected to think of other people even when they hurt me? you and simon didn't think about me or my feelings when you made your stupid bet. neither of you stopped to consider that I was just a person who simply wanted to be left alone." you say with a scoff, "he'll be lucky if I don't slam the door in his face."

johnny shifts on his feet, looking down at the floor since he feels too uncomfortable to look directly at you, "fair enough. take care've yerself, hen."

you bite back tears as you watch him skulk off in the corner of your eye. you stand there for a few more minutes, staring at the stacked shelves in front of you to distract you from the war raging inside of your head

-

it's late at night, nearly midnight, when there's a knock at your door. you let out a sigh, already knowing who was disturbing your doomscrolling at this hour. and when you open the door, you see him. you’re brooding prick of an ex-boyfriend. he at least has the decency to look guilty, like a dog caught ripping up the couch cushions

except he wasn’t a dog, he was the love of your life. and your heart isn’t so easily replaced like a cushion. though he definitely treated it like somewhere to rest his head

“hey.”

you scoff, you’re not sure why. there isn’t anything inherently wrong with what he said but it still annoyed you. he annoyed you. with his stupid stormy eyes and his stupid jokes and freckled shoulders that you used to connect like dots late at night

“just give me my stuff and go, simon. don’t have time for this bullshit.”

he doesn’t flinch. he saw that hit coming, and sometimes you gotta let them swing at you especially when you know that you deserve much worse

the exchange is quick, a box with small memories passed over to you. a couple items of clothing, a book and some toiletries. before you can slam the door in his face, he jams his heavy boot into it

“wait… love, I… there’s somethin’ else. I never gave it to you but it’s yours. got it for you and I’ll never give it to anyone else.”

the glare you give him only falters when he places a small velvet box in your hand, he pauses the speech you can definitely feel coming on. looking at you expectantly to open it. you do, waiting for him to laugh at you when you find nothing in there. ridicule you for even thinking he would consider making you his wife

but all he does it look on solemn, the beautiful ring twinkling as a devastating reminder of what could have been

“I kno’ I ‘ave no right to ask. I wouldn’t insult you like tha’ lovie. you can hate me, I deserve it. but you don’t deserve it. I won’t let you hurt yourself over what I did. you deserve to know the real extent of how bad I fucked up. maybe it’ll help to look at tha’ ring and know that I’ll spend the rest of my life having to know I lost the woman who should be my wife.”

there’s no chance to respond, not like you’d know what to say anyway,

“I’m sorry.”

and then he’s gone.

[anarchythorn]

wait wait wait youre on to something actually. wait. oh my god. deadass this just gave me the most peak revelation about the movie. Afton's treatment of the children is almost DEFINITELY going to be showed or implied to be a reflection of his treatment of Vanessa isn't it. oh my god.

like... he treats them like an abusive father. he KNOWS he has control over them, it seems like he feels ENTITLED to it if anything. "I MADE YOU!" in that moment probably carries the same meaning as a shitty parent saying "I brought you into this world, I can take you out of it!" to scare their kid. he controls them and he controls Vanessa in almost the same ways, it's all but directly stated that he veiws/treats both of them like tools that he has some kind of entitlement to.

"You had ONE job!"

to Vanessa, acting almost like her ability to be his little helper is all she's good for in his eyes (and he certainly has no qualms about getting rid of her once she isn't his obedient helpful accessory anymore!!)

"Wake up, children! I have something for you to play with!"

to the animatronics, some of which had just been fucking tased, and yet he not only fully expects them to obey his order, but he phrases it like they should be thankful to do so in the same way a kid would be grateful for a new toy.

Spot the difference in the intentions behind these lines btw:

"Look at you. Look at the NASTY things you have become! Look how small you are! How worthless you are! You are wretched, rotten little beasts! I MADE YOU!"

"A little old for temper tantrums, aren't we, Vanessa?"

he's literally just more direct about it in the first one but both are literally intended to do the same exact same thing: to make the receiving party feel small. to paint the receiving party as unreasonable/incapable of "reasonable" behavior.

he belittles them and he belittles Vanessa when he doesn't get what he wants. he killed the kids with no remorse, he for all intents and purposes ATTEMPTS to kill his own kid just the same. for all intents and purposes, Vanessa is little more than a tool in his eyes, and the kids are just the same.

...I wonder if Vanessa ever watched her father talk to the animatronics and remembered all the times that he talked to her like that. I wonder if her childhood was robbed from her the same as the spirits' childhoods were, the only difference being that she got to live into adulthood instead of simply being cut short.

FNAF MOVIE SPOILERS

I guarantee y'all that the way Afton spoke to the animatronics in his big "I made you!" speech is exactly how he spoke to Vanessa growing up.

[omgthatdress]

ive been seeing people making fun of the bianca situation and calling her names and i'm so fucking disgusted by it all. his last ex talked publicly about how she had no control of her wardrobe and how he decided what she was allowed to wear in public, and bianca visibly shook her head no twice before just going emotionless and doing what she was told. it's so gross and i'm so uncomfortable with how people are actively sharing the pictures of it everywhere. it's basically revenge porn imo.

yeah. I hate to be an internet "body language expert" and say "it's an obvious cry for help!" on an extremely blank face, but he truth is for all I know, Bianca could be a sub with an exhibitionism fetish and this is extremely her thing.

Like in ANY other situation I'd say it was cunt (literally!)

BUT

Kanye is famous for being mentally stable and having an extremely healthy relationship with women (sarcasm). I just DID NOT like the whole vibe of the thing and I was just like.... yeah I do not want to look back on this in ten years and seriously regret posting those images.

I remember during Britney Spears and Amy Winehouse's lowest days, Craig Ferguson said that his experience with alcoholism made him extremely sympathetic for them and because of that he was NOT going to be talking about them on his show and I thought that was brave as FUCK and I wish more late night hosts had the same decency because seriously NO ONE ELSE was out there saying "maybe we shouldn't be doing this."

Some time before Liam Payne's death I made fun of him for getting bad plastic surgery and now I feel fucking horrible about it because I had absolutely no idea the extent to which he was suffering. Had I known, I never would have made those posts.

In this case, I DO have some idea of how abusive Kanye can be and how much his mental health has unraveled, and I don't want to be a part of perpetuating that.

[he3ts]

GIVE YOU MY LOVE

squid game masterlist / part one — part two — masterlist

pairings: nam gyu x reader

warnings: angst, jealous!nam gyu, smut ( p in v ) less than the first part but i prioritized tension and sadness!! toxic relationship, sub reader, alcohol use. mild thanos x reader. this is part two, i recommend you read part one to continue reading. sorry if this is long, but i got too carried away. never mind the mistakes, i'm fucking tired

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and i don't see an easy way to get out of this,,

her diary, it sits by the bedside table

the curtains are closed, the cats in the cradle

who would've thought that a boy like me could come to this

oh i, i just died in your arms tonight

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This time, you would not come back

At first, he didn't pay him any mind; you always did that. You would walk away, disappear for a few days, then come back, slamming the door and insulting him for his way of doing things. It was your sick game, a cycle that repeated itself over and over again. He knew it, had always known it, and that's why he hadn't worried when, for the first time, you didn't answer his calls.

You're being difficult. He had told himself a thousand times, throwing the phone on the table with a tired smile. But then the days had passed. Seven, to be precise. A week without a message, without a call, without even your name lit up on the screen in the middle of the night. A week of total silence. And then the weeks had turned into a month.

Nam Gyu had begun to feel it on his skin, that emptiness, like an ink stain slowly spreading, staining his days, soiling everything. The phone had become an obsession. Every night he unlocked it, looked at your contact, but he couldn't call you. He was too proud. Too convinced that, sooner or later, you would give in. You. Not him. Just you.

Only you hadn't. As the months began to roll by, Nam Gyu began to change.

He was no longer him. Or maybe, he was more than before, but without your eyes to make him feel like someone better. Without your presence to balance his chaos. His nights were made up of never-ending cigarettes, of glasses left on the edge of the table, of pills melted under his palate, of days that blurred together without meaning. He did not sleep, or slept too much. He talked little, or talked too much and to the wrong person.

Girls came and went. Bodies without faces, kisses without taste. He looked for your scent on them and never found it. It irritated him. It drove him crazy.

One year. A year without you. That was how he measured time now.

No one was saying it out loud, but everyone was noticing. The way he reacted to things had changed, patience was in tatters, irritability a constant. Friends knew it, strangers who crossed his path at the wrong time knew it, but no one knew it as much as he did.

No one felt your absence like he did. Yet, he was no longer looking for you. Because inside him, though he didn't want to admit it, he understood. This time, you were not coming back. For your own sake.

The club Pentagon was still the same. Dim lights, pounding music, bodies moving too close, but never enough to fill the void. The air smelled of alcohol, sweat and stale desire, a perfect place for those who wanted to forget, for those seeking a temporary escape from reality. Nam Gyu had dropped onto one of the black leather couches, a drink between his fingers. The amber liquid swayed slightly as he stared blankly at it. He didn't even know why he was there. Or maybe he knew, but he didn't want to admit it. It had been months since he had heard from you. Months that had stretched into a whole year.

"May I sit down?" A female voice brought him back to reality. He looked up as his eyes rested on a young woman with dark hair, bold eyes, a smile that tasted of promise. She wore a black dress that swathed her body in a way that should have attracted him. It should have.

Nam Gyu did not answer right away; he already knew how it would end. It was going to be a night like many others, a night when he would try to forget you in the arms of someone else. It never worked, but he kept trying anyway. He nodded his head. She smiled, satisfied with his silent acceptance, and sat down next to him. Her scent was sweet, perhaps too much so.

"Are you alone?"

He gave a small, bitter smile. "For a long time"

The girl laughed, as if that answer was a joke, and moved just enough closer to reduce the distance between them. Her fingers grazed the rim of his glass, her red-lacquered fingernails tracing a circle on the cold glass.

"Can I buy you another drink?"

He finished what was in his hand in one slow sip, letting the fire from his drink trickle down his throat, and then set the empty glass on the table.

"That's not necessary"

She leaned even closer, her legs crossed in a studied way, her knee brushing against his. "Then maybe I can offer you something better"

Her fingers slid down the collar of his shirt, playing with the first open button. It was an inviting, calculated gesture, something that should have ignited a modicum of interest in him. Yet, he felt nothing. There was no excitement, no desire, just a sense of apathy that suffocated him.

But he did not back down. He could not go on like this. Maybe, this time, it could work. Maybe, this time, he would stop thinking about you.

The cab sped silently through the brightly lit streets of Seoul. Nam Gyu sat beside the girl, his head leaning against the window. He looked out, the reflection of the lights stretching across the glass, distorted like his thoughts. She was talking to him, but he wasn't really listening, occasionally nodding, occasionally hinting at a smile. He had gotten good at pretending.

When they reached his apartment, she took him by the hand and pulled him inside, without hesitation. She closed the door behind her, dropping her purse on the floor, and pushed him against the wall.

"Are you always this quiet?" she whispered, biting her lower lip as her fingers slipped over his shirt. He looked at her, searching for something in her eyes, something that might convince him she was doing the right thing. But he found nothing. Still, he let her. Her lips came to rest on his, the kiss was expert, voracious, but it didn't make him feel a single thing. Her hands touched him, sought him out, and he reciprocated out of pure automatism.

He let himself be pulled toward the bed, his breathing heavy, his body moving without his mind really being there. She pushed him down, lay on top of him, her lips tracing a trail down his neck. He closed his eyes. For a moment, just a moment, he tried to imagine that she was you. That the hands caressing him were yours. That the voice whispering his name was yours.

And then, without meaning to, without thinking about it. She had squeezed his hair vigorously. Only you could do that.

"Y/n, oh my god bunny"

The girl stopped suddenly, hearing that unfamiliar name. She stiffened and pulled away slightly, her breathing labored. "What did you say?"

Nam Gyu opened his eyes. Her own whisper still seemed to echo in the room. Your name. He had said it. He had whispered it against the lips of another girl. A heavy silence fell between them. She drew back, her eyes narrowing in a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Are you kidding?"

He did not answer. There was nothing to say. She stood up abruptly, hastily picking up her clothes scattered on the floor. "Take your ex back at this point," she spat, slipping on her jacket without even looking at him again. And then, without another word, she walked out, slamming the door behind her. Nam Gyu stood motionless, his gaze lost in the ceiling, his breathing heavy.

He closed his eyes again, but this time there was no illusion, no lie to take refuge in.

The bed was cold. And the emptiness he felt inside him seemed to have no end.

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Time had stopped making sense, your days had turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into a whole year without him. Without his burning gaze on you, without his voice to make you shiver, without his touch to always bring you back to where you started, without his caresses.

You had left without a trace, because you really needed it. Needed to change. You had changed areas, found a different job, away from those places that talked too much about him. You had deleted numbers, blocked calls, closed every door left ajar. You had even nipped relationships with people who could have brought you back, because you knew that all it took was one small crack to bring you down again.

It had been difficult at first. The sleepless nights, the phone that went silent but you kept looking at it anyway. The dreams in which he still appeared, vivid, real, with that damned ability to creep under your skin even when you didn't want him to.

And then there was the silence. Too much silence.

The mornings when you woke up with a heavy heart, a tight throat, and the knowledge that you were facing another day without him. The dumb ache of knowing that, deep down, no one had ever made you feel the way he did. Not even in the good, and especially not in the bad. But then it had become habit.

Silence had stopped being an enemy, and had begun to seem almost like a salvation, no longer having to explain to yourself why you always came back, no longer having to justify your need for him with excuses that no longer held up. And, little by little, you had begun to convince yourself that it was really over, that there was nothing left between you. That the love that had consumed you had died along with that old version of you.

But some days were harder than others. You simply woke up already in the morning in a crooked moon. You suffered from lifelong insomnia, but with him it was rare to happen, but that night it was past one, then two, then three. You were lying on the bed, the ceiling a white void that gave you no answers, darkness enveloping everything but your thoughts. Your chest ached, as if there was a weight on it, a tight knot that wouldn't untie.

You didn't know what had triggered that particular night. Maybe a familiar smell heard on the street, maybe "I Just Died in your Arms" played on the radio just that afternoon, his favorite song, maybe just the weariness of having to pretend every day that you had moved on. You had gotten out of bed with soft legs, head light. In the kitchen, the silence was deafening. You had leaned your hands against the counter closing your eyes, biting your lip to hold back the burning that rose in your throat. But it was no use. You could feel it coming. That silent pain, that grip that gripped your stomach and left no escape.

And then, without warning, the tears began to fall. Slow, heavy.

No sobs, no sound, just a silent weeping that seemed to never end. Warm drops on your cheeks, on your lips, falling onto the kitchen countertop one after another, as if your body was expelling all the pain that had been trapped inside for too long.

You felt stupid. You felt weak.

A year had passed. A bloody year. You should have been better off. You should have been free of all this. Instead, there you were, crying in the darkness of a kitchen you didn't even feel was yours, your heart still beating for him, his name trembling on your lips even though you didn't say it.

With the knowledge that, perhaps, you had never really forgotten him.

And that, perhaps, you never would.

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Rain was falling incessantly on the city's gray streets, slipping from the rooftops like tears that no one would ever wipe away. The sky was a cluster of dark clouds, and the air had that oppressive weight that precedes something inevitable. You walked aimlessly, your hands stuffed in the pockets of your jacket too light for that bitter cold, your mind clouded by thoughts that would not shut up. It was one of those days that seemed meant to break you down, no money in your wallet, no place to return to with a smile.

And now him, too. You had rebuilt your life, of course you had to, you were engaged and maybe in love but you didn't know for sure. You thought it centered on the theory that first love is forever, maybe that was why you couldn't open your heart easily to someone else. It was like a poison. But fortunately you had managed, however briefly, to be happy. It had all started that morning with a seemingly innocuous sentence, a joke said lightly, almost in jest.

"You are with me, but sometimes I feel like your head is elsewhere"

You had looked up from the empty plate, fingers fiddling with the now useless fork, your boyfriend was standing in front of you, a smile on his face, you knew him well enough to know something was up. And you knew yourself well enough to know that at that time you were not as spry as before.

"What are you talking about?" you had asked, trying not to sound defensive. He had shaken his head, the smile barely on his lips, but his eyes betrayed his frustration.

"About him"

Your breath had caught in your throat for a second. Yes, him. Nam Gyu.

He had said it out loud. Even though he had never spoken his name, that name that was no longer supposed to belong to you. You had set your fork down on the table with a clatter, trying to maintain control. "I don't want to talk about it"

"But you still think about it"

"I don't"

He had laughed, but without mirth. "Are you really sure?"

Were you? His words were a knife digging into you, slow and precise. "It doesn't matter," you had said finally, crossing your arms.

"It matters to me"

His fingers had drummed against the table, the sound rhythmic and nervous. Then he had shifted, leaning against the back of the chair, watching you with a gaze that made you feel naked, vulnerable. In that perspective, you had noticed how a little like him he looked. You were so screwed.

"I heard you in your sleep," he had said. "You call him. Not me. Him"

You had stiffened.

"No"

"Yes"

The air in the room had become heavy, unbreathable, and going back seemed impossible. "It's not my fault if-"

"If what?" he had pressed, raising his voice. "If he left you? If he destroyed you and now you think no one else can put you back together?"

You had felt your face heat up, your throat tighten. It was unfair. It was cruel. But it wasn't a lie. "If you think that, why did you stay with me?" you had retorted, your voice broken with anger and pain, "You knew my history, you ... You cannot hold my greatest weakness against me"

He had shaken his head, and for a moment had looked more tired than angry. He raised an eyebrow, not expecting me to respond that way.

"Because I thought that in time things would change"

A long silence had fallen between you. One that hurt more than words. Then he had sighed, grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, not turning around before leaving. Nothing more had needed to be said. He had been right. He could not be a replacement and you were still trapped in the past. Alone again.

You had left the house only three hours later, your cheeks streaked with bitter tears, your nose red with shame. You felt the air lacking inside the crowded subway, the air saturated with the smell of rain and dampness. You had sat in a corner, your hood up, your eyes fixed on your hands entwined in your lap. Then you had seen him when you hurried downstairs. A well-dressed man with an enigmatic smile and an expression of someone who always knew more than he was saying. He had stretched a smile at you in a casual, almost distracted gesture.

"Will you play with me?" he had said, and you had almost laughed. A game. It was almost funny, maybe he was trying to cheer up your depressed mood. He had shown you two cards, one blue and one red, and you immediately knew what the game was. Ddakji. You had accepted, perhaps just out of defiance. Maybe because you needed something to take your anger out on.

Every blow you gave against the card seemed a reflection of the chaos inside you. Every pop in the air, every defeat, every burn on your skin when his hand hit your face. But then you had won and the bills had slipped through your trembling fingers. It was not the money that scared you. It was the temptation, because you needed the money. And, perhaps, you had nothing left to lose.

You had returned home sadder than before, the room was a reflection of you, you had taken off your soggy jacket and dropped it to the floor with a dull thud, you sat in the armchair cross-legged looking at the damn note.

Then the music had begun.

"Oh, I just died in your arms tonight..."

You had frozen. A chill had gone down your spine, your hands had begun to shake. That song, that damn song. The radio croaked slightly, the sound imperfect, lived-in. An old gift. One you had kept out of habit, just because it was part of you, and like a slow poison, your mind had gone back.

To him.

To the first time you had listened to that song together, lying on the bed with the rain beating against the glass. To the way he had smiled, brushing your hair away from your face with a careless gesture. To the taste of his lips, to the unspoken promise that was in every kiss. To the anger. To the longing. To everything you had tried to bury. Your gaze had slipped to the note clenched in your fist. Maybe you weren't really free. Maybe you never would have been.

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The metallic sound of the doll's voice was still echoing in your head.

The field was littered with motionless bodies, some lifeless, others paralyzed with fear. Blood stained the dusty ground, yet adrenaline did not allow you to dwell on that scene of terror. Your heart was beating so fast you feared it might explode. You had survived. Where the fuck had you gone? Blood, too much blood, your beautiful face was stained crimson red, you could no longer breathe regularly. But you were alive. With hands still trembling, you had turned around slowly, trying to catch your breath, to process what had just happened.

Terror made your whole body shake in a ghoulish dance, you hid your hands in the pockets of that horrible green sweatshirt. You were breathing only because you had to, only because you wanted to live again. You could not die, you were young, poor, yes, but still young. Everyone seemed too interested in money, blinded almost to want to continue. You obviously voted X, how could you continue knowing that maybe you would die next?

The bed was uncomfortable, you couldn't even eat, you were terrified, and now you were forced to play again just because of someone else's greed.

Nam Gyu no longer knew how long he had been staring into space, the spoon trembled between his fingers, he was nervous, he was in withdrawal, the bland meal had now cooled before him, but none of this mattered. He was in withdrawal and thought it was just yet another vision he had before him. But no, he had seen you. You. Across the room, far away, your back slightly bent as if you wanted to make yourself smaller, more invisible. There you were, intent on eating in silence, not drawing attention to yourself, but your face, your movements, everything about you screamed your presence like a deafening echo in his chest.

The spoon almost slipped out of his hand. His lungs closed, as if the air had suddenly become too thick for him to breathe.

One year.

But it had only taken one glance. One bloody instant to shatter every lie. He had lost you. But he had never forgotten you. And now you were there. You were real.

Your hair was longer, slightly messy, but it still looked good on you, as if it belonged to that version of you he had never known. Your face was more mature, marked by something he couldn't define. Suffering? Weariness? Or was it just time that had left its mark?

You were even more beautiful. A kind of beauty that hurt the eyes.

You looked fragile, almost ethereal, as if the world had crushed you for too long. But he knew. He knew that inside you was still that flame, that storm that had always engulfed him. He watched as you brought the spoon to your lips slowly, with no real desire to eat, with no real taste to that meal. Your movements were mechanical, lifeless, and that realization hit him like a punch to the stomach.

He bit the inside of his cheek, holding back the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. A laugh at his side abruptly brought him back to reality: Thanos, the purple-haired boy, the rapper, always stoned and a little disconnected. Sitting next to him looking relaxed, as if they hadn't just risked their lives. He was saying something, a joke maybe, but Nam Gyu couldn't follow him.

Not as long as you were there. Not as long as your breath seemed to echo in every corner of the room. Thanos followed his trajectory, turning his head sharply toward Nam Gyu "Do you know her?"

"No," he had gasped, but he still stared at you with too much intensity, without shame or modesty. Your eyes met. One moment. A single, eternal moment.

Your lips barely parted. The spoon remained suspended between your fingers, as if you had forgotten what you were doing. Nam Gyu felt the blood freeze in his veins.

You.

It was really you.

Bunny.

He had missed you.

He had missed you to death.

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He did not know how it had started, but Thanos had set his eyes on you from the start. He had opened the cross necklace around his neck only to pull out what looked like an ecstasy pill to Nam Gyu. He scrutinized you as if you were a fun puzzle to solve, as if he had already decided you were worth playing with.

After the fight with Player 333 he seemed more fierce than ever, his had been a test toward him, he was plotting something, and Nam Gyu knew it. Maybe he had noticed the way he was looking at you? He didn't want to talk, didn't want to hunt for some weakness. But seeing you there again had ignited that flame in him that he was unlikely to extinguish now. He felt the fire sprinkle in him everywhere, how delirious.

Thanos was serious, approaching you with that relaxed walk of his, his head slightly tilted, as if everything was a big joke and he was the only one who knew the punchline.

Nam Gyu could tell from your eyes, from that little glint, that you were amused. Maybe from his dilated pupils. Okay it's done, it's going to be really funny.

He clenched his fists inside his pockets, his fingernails digging into his palm. Thanos was already in front of your figure, his face tilted in a theatrical gesture, while you were still trying to finish your cross-legged meal.

"Hey, Señorita"

Nam Gyu felt the blood boiling in his veins, you barely looked up from your meal, the spoon suspended in midair. You tilted your head, watching him curiously.

"Señorita?" you repeated with a smile that, however small, was enough to annoy Nam Gyu. That symptom of belonging. You had never been engaged, not officially, but at the club his friends always tried to stay away from you.

"Yes." Thanos nodded slowly, with that air of a sassy kid who enjoyed pushing himself. "I've decided I'm going to call you that. It sounds better than your number, doesn't it?"

"I don't like it"

Thanos clutched his shoulders. Nam Gyu forced himself to look away. He felt his own breathing becoming heavier, his chest rising and falling with effort. He had no right to be annoyed. He had no right to intervene. Yet, he felt the need to do so.

You chuckled, lowering your gaze to your meal.

"Join my team, and I will protect you at all costs"

Another laugh. Light, almost distracted. Yet every time Nam Gyu heard it, it was like a punch in the stomach. He hadn't heard you laugh like that in a long time. Not with him. Not for him. He was the one who knew every expression on your face, every nuance in your voice, and yet, there you were now, smiling with someone else.

And then, as if that were not enough, your eyes shifted to him. You were doing it on purpose, it was so predictable. You hadn't seen him in years. Years in which you had tried to forget the sound of his voice, the way his touch could burn your skin, the look with which he had always made you feel naked, exposed, vulnerable. You had vowed never to think of him again, to rebuild yourself, to erase his name from your mind. But when your eyes had landed on him in that bare, stuffy dormitory, time had stood still.

He had changed. Thinner, harder. His face seemed carved in stone, his black eyes were duller, more hollowed out. Did he have new tattoos? For a moment, you had seen a spark of something familiar before he looked away.

"So now you want to impress me?" you had told him, as Thanos sat down next to you just to talk some more.

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Nam Gyu sat in a corner, his body motionless, his hands intertwined in front of his face. He was trying to ignore it. He was trying to ignore the discomfort that knotted in his stomach every time Thanos spoke to you. But then, Thanos spoke.

"Strange," he said, with his usual arrogant smile, his eyes cast toward the piggy bank. "I didn't think you were the type to let a woman like that go"

Nam Gyu did not react. Not right away. Thanos understood. He was high and only wanted to annoy him.

"Or maybe," he continued, tilting his head slightly, "you never really had her?"

A deep breath. Absolute control. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Why are you talking about things that don't concern you?"

Thanos laughed softly, with the confidence of someone who knows he has the upper hand. He leaned in slightly closer, as if deliberately trying to provoke him.

"Because it amuses me," he whispered. "Because I want her. Because you had her in your hands and threw her away like an idiot"

Nam Gyu clenched his jaw, still silence. Still checking. Yes, he was an idiot. Yes, he was wrong. Yes, his heart still burned for you.

"But maybe it was for the best," Thanos continued, the grin becoming more and more evident. "She is free now."

The bed creaked in an instant, Nam Gyu stood, his breath short, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes burning with pure rage. Thanos smiled even wider. "Ah, so you still feel something? What a surprise"

"Leave her alone"

Thanos stared at him, and for the first time a shadow of caution flashed in his eyes. He was only joking. "What is it you call her? Bunny? Bro, you're really fucked up to call her in your sleep. Maybe you should-"

Nam Gyu moved even closer, his gaze now a bottomless abyss. His sweatshirt sleeves were up, Thanos noticed his scars, from when he was piercing himself. He took his necklace with a dry gesture, opening it in front of him, Nam Gyu's eyes lit up with something all too intense.

Thanos studied him for a long moment, then tossed him the pill, the smile barely noticeable. "Don't worry, champion. I don't want any trouble. At least not yet"

──────────────୨ৎ──────────────

You could not sleep. The need to go to the bathroom had become impossible to ignore; you were so terrified that you hadn't thought about your physiological needs at all. You had risen cautiously, slipping away from your bed without a sound, moving like a shadow among the huddled bodies. You crossed the dark room, the faint red and blue lights on the floor were blinding. When you reached the door, the guard behind the glass looked impassive.

"You can't get out"

The metallic voice rang through the device, cold and impersonal. You paused, your breath suspended for a moment.

"I need to go to the bathroom." Your voice was firm, but your body tense, but the guard remained still. Not an ounce of sympathy. Clenching your fists, the idea of having to stay there, of being denied even that slightest freedom, made your blood boil in your veins.

"If you'd rather I do it here, be my guest and watch"

The guard did not move. He did not respond. Nervousness burned under your skin. Your instinct told you that you would never be able to convince him, because you couldn't even convince yourself. Do it in front of everyone, even if they were asleep? That was out of the question. But then, a presence behind you.

"What's the problem?"

His voice. Low. Deep. Strange. A shiver went down your spine even before you turned around. He was there, so close you could feel the heat behind you. His gaze, heavy as a mark on your skin, did not leave the guard in front of you.

"She just needs to go to the bathroom"

The guard did not move, "It is not allowed at night"

Nam Gyu took a step closer. "Not allowed?" His voice dropped a tone, becoming darker, more dangerous. "Either you let her pass, or we make a scene. But I guess you don't want to attract attention, right?"

The guard was impassive, as always, and he was so close, and you desperately needed the bathroom.

Nam Gyu looked at him as if he could break him in two with a single glance, resting his hand on your back. "Don't be an asshole," his voice was pure threat. "Open that door."

A second of absolute tension, then finally the guard opened the door. As soon as the door opened, Nam Gyu gently grabbed your wrist, guiding you out without another word. He walked in front of you, determined, his shoulders broad and tense. His grip on your wrist had barely loosened, but the contact between your skins was still there, alive, electric. Reaching the bathroom door, he stopped, you turned toward him, finally meeting his gaze. He was staring at you in a way that almost made you hold your breath.

His eyes were dilated, shiny, you remembered, because you had those eyes too, then you had decided that ruining your life was not the thing and stopped. Only when you had turned away from him had you felt the air lacking. So close, you could touch him, just reach out. All you had to do was ... No, you couldn't. Not now that you were both vulnerable.

"What an honor to know you still care about me," you barely whispered, he tightened his lips into a single line, he wanted to speak, he wanted to stop you. He wanted to... He didn't know anymore either. You had entered the bathroom not knowing that he had followed you quickly. You had done everything in a hurry, not wanting to upset the masked men.

Water ran over your cold hands as you rubbed them under the rusty jet of the sink, trying desperately to concentrate on the monotonous noise that echoed in the small room. But the only presence you could feel was his.

He was there, standing still against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, his body relaxed in that silent arrogance that had always driven you crazy. His dark eyes watched you with an intensity that seemed to dig into you, making you feel vulnerable, as if he saw every thought hidden behind your impassive facade.

You knew he was watching you. He was devouring you with his eyes. You breathed deep, trying to find the voice to break that nerve-wracking wait.

"You can leave, you know"

The sound of your words echoed in the small room, but he did not move. Then he slowly left his position against the door and took a few steps toward you, slow, studied. Curse.

"Still playing hard to get" His voice was low, rough, with that undertone of danger you had come to know well. You felt your heart quicken as the reflection in the small mirror above the sink returned his figure to you, getting closer and closer. And then-the contact. His hands. Warm, sure, terribly familiar.

His hands rested on your hips with devastating naturalness, his fingers sliding lazily along the elastic of your sweatpants. A shiver ran down your spine, your breath jamming for an instant.

"Don't touch me. Back away," but you had arched your back so pathetically that your words betrayed themselves. He knew that your breathing had just changed. He knew that your body was already responding to his.

"Really?"

His tone was a challenge-laden whisper, his mouth close to your ear, his warm breath brushing against your skin. He moved even closer, his chest almost touching your back. The warmth of his body against yours made you shiver. And then, you felt it. His erection, how much he wanted you, and the tip of his thumb sliding slowly under the fabric of your panties. A very light, almost accidental touch.

You stiffened instantly, your fingers gripping around the edge of the sink tightly, as if it were the only thing holding you up.

"Stop it"

Nam Gyu smiled against your neck, a smile you couldn't see but felt all over.

"Lie"

His hand moved another inch, his fingers playing with the hem of the fabric, lazily caressing the soft skin beneath it. Your breath grew shorter, the heat spreading along your skin like a slow poison.

"You always said you hated it when I did that"

His voice was low, hypnotic, dangerously close.

"And I hate it." You tried to maintain control, to ignore the way your body responded to his touch. But he laughed softly, a deep sound that made you shudder.

"Stop your bullshit. Can't you hear how much I want you, bunny." That name. That damn name that had always made you melt.

You had bitten your lip, hating yourself for the way your body seemed to give out without you being able to stop it. Stop, stop, stop.

"Go away, Nam Gyu"

He did not move; rather, he let his lips barely graze the skin behind your ear, his hot breath making you tremble.

"Tell me you don't want this"

"Tell me you hate me"

You hated him. You hated him because he knew you would never say it. When his hand reached your opening, opening it with two fingers, your breath was ragged, you had rested your head on his shoulder you could see his face looking down at you.

"Is that a no?" he turned several times between your folds as he gave you pleasure and you closed your eyes. Maybe it was his twisted way of enjoying himself. Maybe he liked seeing you tremble under his intense gaze, knowing that he could destabilize you. Or maybe he simply wanted what he couldn't have.

"He's on you like a hungry dog," Nam Gyu had whispered, his voice low, laden with venom, as he kissed your neck. He was talking about Thanos, you knew; he was jealous because you were still his stuff.

"None of your business," you had replied, your heart pounding in your chest. He had removed his fingers from your pussy too quickly, grabbing your hair with a tug, you had already complained about his distance.  "Yes it is my business. I see your face in my nightmares, I can't touch a woman after you anymore.... bunny, don't you understand?" his eyes were black, damned, you felt your intimacy melt deprived by your orgasm. But you were bursting.

"You reduce yourself to this! I am not a piece of meat! I loved you and you just exploited my weakness, my love to your liking!" before he could continue torturing you, his hand let go of your hair, you were looking at your bodies through the mirror, him behind you, and you trembling in front. Your pants slightly pulled down over your legs, his hand continuing to pull them down.

"You are more than a piece of meat"

"You didn't give me a way to think that, though" you had turned around, now you were face to face. His cheeks red, his eyes half-closed, as he grasped your cheeks with his palms as if to lock them in.

"Maybe we won't get out of here alive, bunny," he sighed, playing with your hair; it was the drug, you knew. "Maybe I'll die. But at least I was lucky enough to see you one last time"

"You're not in you. That's the drug talking"

Your still damp hands clenched against the fabric of his suit. You stared at him, your breath short, your eyes struggling to stay cold, not to betray the fire he always managed to ignite. He smiled. A game. Always the same, the one where he pushed and you tried to resist. Only this time the bathroom walls seemed to close in on you, the breath of both of you was too close, and the air was thick with something you could no longer ignore.

"You're always the same," he continued, his tone softer, almost bitter. "Always ready to say no to me"

You didn't know what to say, you were like stuck, still too shaken.

"You like to drive me crazy, don't you?"

You didn't have time to answer. His hands closed around your face, "Please, bunny, kiss me" It was that closeness you knew, it was that you couldn't stand it anymore, to say enough. It was the fear, the fear of dying in a place like that. It was too strong, and painful but his lips touched yours without any warning. It was a violent, hungry, angry kiss. No gentleness, no attempt to hold back. Just years of anger, repressed desire and unspoken words exploding all at once.

Your fingers slid into his hair, squeezing hard as his body pushed you against the sink again. Your mouths sought each other, taking, biting.

He moaned against your lips, his tongue sank deeper into your mouth, as if he wanted to claim you, as if he wanted to remind you that, in spite of everything, he had never really let you go.

And the worst of it was that you didn't want to stop him. Never. Not even when he turned you over for the second time, and bent you over the cold sink, his erection pressing against your butt was just yet another signal about how much he was treating himself. How many times he had dreamed that you were the woman he had between the sheets, your face, your hair, your lips.

"Nam Gyu," you had said, trying not to wince as he slid down your sweatpants and panties. His body was pressed against your bottom, his hair in front of his face and his hands clasped around your hips.

"Do you know how much I've missed you?" was a rhetorical question, sure enough, your head was foggy and your legs gave out. You were all wet, he found it funny. It was sloppy, all so fast, his breath on your neck and the tip of his cock already inside you. You lifted your butt higher toward him, because you wanted more, you were addicted, "Fuck"

"How I had missed your voice" he muttered, as his hand grabbed your hair, pulling you back toward him kissing your neck. You weren't protesting, you couldn't do anything more, you were exhausted and confused completely loose under him. His hands were everywhere, reaching for your breasts under your bra.

"Hurry the fuck up, I'm going crazy"

Your breath took away as he began to giggle and then grabbed you with far too much force as he fucked you in that fatal position. It was your head spinning, sweat soaked into your forehead. You felt it all, his tongue on your neck and moans against your ear. You were so hungry for him but so little in control of your person, "We are both doomed, you know, bunny"

"I know"

You had been struck by time, out of control, and for that night you had been his again. He couldn't get enough of it. Then a soft knock against the door. There were a few thrusts, unrestrained like animals possessing themselves. He stepped out of your frustrated womanhood, pulling your hair back from your neck and laying a chaste kiss on it. You had rested your head on the sink, your cheek flattened, and your face formulated a small smile. Your legs completely filled with him. You were cursed, yes. You were alive, again.

"I love you"

MASTERLIST.

[dilf-docs]

My Baby's Fit Like A Daydream

husband!pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your relationship is finally out to the world. now, pedro and you will explore what it feels like to have your love out in the open.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, FLUFF, the empire of bad humor strikes again, hurt/comfort bc all roads lead back to angst, a brief mention of bodyshaming, this is lowkey pwp my bad, dirty talk, fingering, p. in v., bathroom sex ijbol, exhibition kink (they be fucking everywhere but in a bed), degradation kink (he calls her a slut twice), the one and only creampie (twice), so naturally: breeding kink, ALSO pls stop the husband!pedro reqs, i beg. a delulu girl can only take so much 💔

word count: 10,991 words

side note: not one but two requests to be fullfilled! this is as a sequel to call it what you want. also, spam time: i happen to write in wattpad as well, and i have a pedro pascal social media fic going on :) but it's on spanish tho. if u speak the language and would like to tune in, read it here AND spam again but speaking of the ptwt dynamic, why don't we become moots? check my (new) stan twitter account here (i had one in 2022 that i had since 2016 but entered a crisis and deleted it lol)

part: I/II

The news had spread like wildfire.

As soon as you hit the red carpet, hand on hand, rings finally on display―shining under the spotlight, your phone had been blowing up nonstop: every show, podcast, tabloid, news outlet and social media had been talking about it. California had turn into an easter egg playground; everyone was eager to know it all.

(They had found the church where you married, the dress boutique, jewelry shop where Pedro bought the rings―the employees ratted him out, even sharing pictures of the moment, your husband posing with them without knowing of the future treason. They too had found the place where the reception took place, and even the name of the priest who had married you, but he refused to give the hungry press any details. God Bless)

In short, it had been a hell of a week. You figured dissapearing for a while was for the best, but with some interviews still left, that option had been discarded. Still, doesn't mean you couldn't retreat for a couple of days to the tranquility of your home while it was time to show up again. Well, as peaceful as it could get, since reporters were camping near your house and roaming around Hollywood Hills like vultures; the neighbour's nagging was just another layer of problems in your shit cake.

"I'm sorry, Louis. Walks will be postponed for a while" you talk to your cat, but the lazy bastard just stretches and lays down again. "Yeah, I can see you're affected. Don't cry"

"It's not the cat's fault" Pedro emerges from behind, "don't take it out on him"

He takes a sit next to you, two mugs in hand. He gives you the one with a chocolate steam, a souvenir he bought when you visited your home country last summer. You wonder if that's a trip you'll ever be able to make again.

"I'm not. Just- It's horrible that I can't even go outside my own house and walk the same roads I've walked in four years because the press is hidden with cameras in, I don't know, bushes!" you exclaim, quiet rage carried within your words. "It's unfair, really. All I want is to walk my damn cat without a flash up my ass"

Pedro nestles his face in your neck, nose carressing the skin. Giggles leave your lips, the sensation ticklish.

"It'll pass. It always does" he says, voice assuring, probably because he's used to the violation of privacy, but you're not. Getting bigger, is this the price to pay for making a name for yourself and claiming out loud who you love?

"I hope so" you murmur above the quietness of your home, a sound as eerie as fake, devoid of it's tranquil nature as a world of invasion awaits outside.

"Do you trust me?" Pedro speaks, voice unwavering. He holds your gaze, steady brown challening your shaky orbs.

"I do" you speak up, yet you wish you could believe it. You believe in him, there's no question to that, but do you believe in yourself? That the love you'd put out to the world would be treated with the same care and respect you have treated it in secret? For a fleating moment, you miss the secrecy.

"Then trust me this will be over sooner than expected" he presses a kiss to your lips, soft and sweet, feeling remanents of chocolate he licks away, as you mockingly yell ¡Qué sucio! but it's devoid of malice. "In time, this will become another anecdote we'll share with our kids, and laugh with our grandkids when we get older"

You smile, feeling tears in the corner of your eyes. Oh, doesn't he turn you into a pathetic sappy wife?

"Well" you sniffle, giggling to push back the tears away. "About the old part..."

He playfully kicks your side. "Uno ya no puede ser romántico, que le salen con estas cosas. Your generation could use some respect, you know?" (one can't simply be romantic anymore)

Pedro gets up, picking the mug from your hands as both rings brush together, the gold shinning under the morning Californian sun.

"And your generation could take a joke" you quip, lips curled up like you hadn't in weeks.

"Very funny, y/n. Thought you loved me" but then he's pressing a kiss to your temple like kissing you once isn't enough, promising to return after washing down the mugs.

"I do!" you shout to his dissapearing broad frame as he enters the kitchen, and he playfully makes a dissmissing move with his palm.

The laughing dies when your phone chimes next to you.

You shouldn't really, but the curiosity that draws you in is as intense as a magnet. The phone burns on its position, screaming for you to open it, despite being told by your husband that the best was choice was to ignore it until the buzz had died down, but you're afraid the turmoil isn't nowhere to be finished. Comments can be mean, he'd said, they can hurt you. Pedro said he'd learn with time to ignore it, but he was experienced. You weren't, so naturally, as your husband and protector, he wanted to shield you from the pain.

Although, both of your fandoms had been pretty supportive of your relationship, some user even claiming to suspect it, making threads full of easter eggs and connections that validated the theory which was now a reality. I've connected the dots, followed by pictures of you sharing wardrobe, slips on interviews, similar backgrounds in your posts across social media, and of course, the two Gladiator Ii interviews. Many resorted to making edits or screaming over your pictures in the premiere, demanding for more content you had yet caved in to share (there was a gigantic carpet of evidence sitting heavy in your cloud).

So, in a way, this support made it hard for you to truly dimension the hate Pedro warned you about: all you saw was fans being happy and showering you with love, making paparazzi to be the only problem as for now.

That's it.

You cave in, turning the phone on as you bite your lip, searching first your Instagram: a bunch of new followers, many with variations of ispunk on their usernames, as well as a swarm of comments on your recent posts. There's a small voice in your head telling you to turn away, but your thumb moves without thinking, clicking on pictures of the red carpet―a carrousel of you and then a picture of you both at the end, one fans had been gushing about the last couple of days, rings on display, practically up their noses. You were smiling, and Pedro was looking at you fondly, his other hand holding Lux but his gaze never leaving yours; he was too perfect to be real―yours.

You unconsciously smile at the captured moment, love obvious on your faces, so you open the comments, thinking it would be the same support or love radiating of the comment.

But boy, weren't you wrong?

It was all the same, support lost between waves of hate. Variations of bodyshaming, age shaming and even gold digger claims were on full display across the comment section. "She's ugly" "In it for the money, am I right?" "I thought Pedro had better taste, lol" "She got the role in Gladiator II because of nepotism. Or cocksucking" and then a cruel answer that read "Right, threesome with Ridley. Ew, what a whore!"

Worst of it all, some even had Pedro profile pictures, or usernames and accounts dedicated to him.

Your heart was beating like crazy, chest heavy and hollow, face red with emotions you couldn't quite place (embarrasment? fear? rage? sadness?) as you kept searching across Twitter*, doing a quick skim of the trendings that included you. The same hate speech pattern was all over the timeline, some betting for divorce in a couple of years (even months!), while others took their time dissecting your looks and relationship. As if they knew. Long gone were the edits and harmless threads: the hate wave was here to stay. Some where even being a bit racist, the irony of it all, being Pedro himself was latino and didn't shy away from it, rather proud as he didn't miss an opportunity to shot out his dear Chile. Or any social issue, as a matter of fact, very vocal on his political beliefs.

This was fucking ridiculous, and if the cameras were an issue, this swarm of negativity is what really took a toll on you, the flashes as you went grocery shopping now barely a scratch. No, this was worst. All you wanted to do was cuddle in a blanket while wearing one of Pedro's shirts and dissappear. Too much noise. Too much hate. You can feel it creeping up your body, tainting your soft curves, wrinkles, acne scars and face. It's like rough hands, tugging harsh, ripping your vocals because you can't scream; no words to express this pain.

You knew one day it would come, but never imagined the hurt and to what extent people were capable of. Cruelty. Dissecting your life and body like it was a show for them to be entertained: your marriage was a circus and your body a joke.

It hurt their condescending dismiss of your love, questioning as if the gap were only numbers and not a pillar of your relationship that made you and Pedro closer, despite the bridge in age. You were reduced to a middle-age crisis, and he to a filthy man pinning for a younger girl. Your body was turn apart, despite no real flaws existing. Humans are meant to be so, not perfect, but real, and that was the problem: you had turn into an object―a target for their dards to pierce through.

Your body shakes violently with cries, deafening your ears that you don't hear when Pedro walks in.

"Why are you crying?" he rushes to your side, panic on his voice. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

You barely manage to shake your head, and then his eyes scan all over your features, until they land on the phone on your hands. The worry turns to anger as he asks:

"You looked at them, didn't you?"

He isn't yelling, but it would be better if he did. This contained fury, fading into dissapointment, as if you were a naive child scolded by their parents makes you feels small and stupid, as if you knew no better.

"I'm sorry-" you manage to choke out among tears, "I know you told me-"

"I told you" he interrupts, words laced with wrath, "so this wouldn't happen. See what happens?"

"Why are you talking to me like it's my fault?" you yell, and Pedro sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. "I didn't ask to receive all this! Do I deserve the death threats, shame and hate?"

He walks past you, and it's like a slap to your face. Was he going to behave like this? Didn't it matter how you felt, or was it something childish that could be brush to the side like nothing? Insecurities you hadn't even think of come crashing down on you, doubts creeping up and attacking you from all sides. It's horrible. You try to hold onto the good memories, praying you don't loose him. You can't. You just can't.

"Answer!" you demand, tears spilling like a broke dam.

"I was just closing the windows. Or do you want to fuel the talk, huh? Give the hungry hoard more to bite?" Pedro then stands to hold your gaze, and you hate that you can't place his emotions. Anxiety corrodes your brain: was this really the beginning of the end?

"Do I?" you dare to speak up, and even if its loud, it comes out drowned, the exhaustion from the emotional turmoil taking its toll on you. "Do I deserve it?"

"No, you don't, carajo!" Pedro bursts. "You don't deserve any of that, which is why I didn't want you looking at those things!"

He sighs, realizing the anger is misdirected.

"I'm sorry"

Your broken wails are the only thing to be heard. He hates himself for being a part of it, even if not the biggest.

"No, I'm sorry for being so stupid" you sob. "I-I just wanted for people to be as happy for us as I am with you"

"Come here" but he's the one cutting the space to embrace you.

His scent calms a part of you, body still rocking with violent shakes.

"You're not stupid. Nor ugly, or any of those things people are calling you. No, mi amor. You're beautiful, smart and talent. They fail to realize I'm the lucky one. So please, don't be hard on yourself, yeah? I can't bear to see it. Less if I know it's not true. You didn't ask for it; you don't deserve all that bullshit"

He presses a kiss to your temple, arms that hug you tighter holding you close close up to the point his heartbeat melts within your own.

I won't let you go. You won't fall as long as I got you.

"We'll get through this, yeah? Think of the future, and what's to come. It's hard, that I know, but let us enjoy the moment. Life is too precious to waste it away" he brushes stray tears with his thumb, softly and full of love that words aren't enough to express. "I'm here" the out loud, "and I'm not going anywhere. That's a promise"

Later that day, Pedro posts a carrousel of unseens, even one of your wedding (a video of your first dance), telling people to leave you alone. That he loves you, and that no malicious news, fans or comments will ever change that―suck it energy laced within his rageful statement.

Safe to say, in the next weeks, hate is barely a small voice whispering in the back of your neck, one that hushes down with each kiss and/or words uttered by your one and only devoted husband.

mandoshoney: y/n protection squad pull up, we ride at dawn starlightt180: unhing3dprincess WHERE ARE U??? PTWT IS IN SHAMBLES AND NEEDS U MY SHAYLAAAAAAAAAA elysyannemimi: i feel like a kid scolded by their dad. pedro has achieved the ultimate daddy status bobgirlll: is no one going to talk about how rageful/protective pedro sounded in that story????? NEED MORE FERAL PEDRO RN GRRrrrr ps. photos so cute, wish that was me lol pyramiidsf: i hope y/n is okay, ppl can be so cruel sometimes but at least she's got pedro on her side <3 he's such a perfect man :,)

It had been days since your fight.

In an sweet attempt to cheer you up, Pedro had taken you out for dinner to a fancy restaurant you can't remember the name of. If they'll snap pictures of my wife without my permission, I might as well show you off. So, per his petition, you had wore a little black dress that hugged every curve of your body perfectly and pushed your tits to the top. Stunning, he had growled, and it had been hard to push him off as he devoured your mouth in your house's doorstep.

"Let's give them talk" you had agreed.

So now you sat at the restaurant, Pedro filling your cup of wine for the third time in a row, talking about all and nothing: about politics, the weather, your siblings, Louis the cat, upcoming gigs around your home you wanted to go to, how support had risen and the hate had dwindled, the numerous calls of job offers and interviews to keep on milking your relationship... life had never been more hectic.

"You know, maybe the dress was a bad idea" he takes a bite of his meat, tone nonchalant.

"Yeah?" you challenge, cheeks flushed with alcohol, "why's that? I thought I had to look good. What changed your mind?"

"Turns out" he looks at you, gaze piercing through your body, brown warm eyes darkening, "I figured something"

You know your husband. It's still fresh in your mind the first day you took a notice of it: jaw clenching, gaze fixated at nothing and white fists balled up on to the sides, arms swinging while fingers itched. A vein on his forehead would pop, and brows would melt together in a furrow. It happened when you got recognized by a fan, on your early days, and he had taken a picture of you, uploading it to social media. Dating Pedro had been going on for little to five months, and the way this guy hugged you from behind, hand resting above your ass, had made your then-boyfriend see red. His posture stiffened, demeanor changed and face adquired all the characteristics above. There was only one correct answer: Pedro was jealous, so fucking jealous.

So here he is now, jealous to the bone, alcohol increasing the rage.

"And that is?" you push his buttons, something you normally wouldn't do, but you're drunk and God, so sex-starved. His possesive side was always hot, yet now? It had a layer of allure it didn't have before, the idea of calming him down long lost.

"You know what it is" he answers, but you tilt your head to the side, acting confused. Pedro growls, clenching the glass a bit too tight; you fear it'll break.

"No, I don't" you serve more wine in your glass, savouring the liquid. Some spills into your mouth, and you lick it while not breaking eye contact. "Enlighten me"

"Turns out" the words come out strained, a whirlwind of emotions burning in the tip of his tongue, "that I wanted people to look at my wife, but I looked their looks and realized I don't like how they look at her"

He rambles the words out, speech pattern slurred and ideas clashing into one another, clearly drunk.

"I see" you draw out, demeanor calm, but your panties have started to get wet.

"No" he hits the table, making your eyes go wide and people turn to your table. You should be embarrased, but you're only aroused. "You don't see what I see. And I hate it, I fucking hate it" he seethes, words spit out over your unfinished meal.

"Dessert?" the waiter appears from seemingly nowhere, menu on hand.

Pedro doesn't even look when he answers, "Sure. Bring your best"

"The chef's suggestion is Soufflé, a classic dessert from his country"

"That'll do" Pedro looks at you, but his brain seems to be somewhere else. Like he's thinking. "How long will it take?"

The waiter ponders the answer, yet doesn't think any weird of it.

"About twenty to thirty minutes. Would that be alright? Or would you prefer to switch to one of our quick-fixes? They're as delicious as our fresh and-"

"No" your husband interrupts, eyes shinning with something akin to dangerous. "We'll take the soufflé. Just want my wife to eat the very best"

The waiter smiles. "Sure, will be back in a few. More wine?"

Pedro stops the action, removing the bottle's neck from pouring more red liquid in your glass.

"Won't be needed"

They excuse themselves, leaving both of you alone. The restaurant bubbles with chat and instrumental music from a band playing on a corner, but all you hear is his heavy breathing and your heart.

"I wanted more wine" you pout, not even knowing why you said it.

He smiles devilishly. "I'll give you something better than that"

How does it happen, you have no idea, but then Pedro gets up with a brash move, chair making a sound that draws attention. He smirks, his auburn reflecting on the candle glowing in the center with a light that's menacing.

"I'm going to the bathroom" an announcement that feels like a threat that runs through the newfound tension; it could be cut with even a butterknife.

You sit there in silence, too stunned to speak. Your phone chimes in what feels like an hour (it's been a few minutes, probably three). You open the notification, a single text from Pedro.

I'm waiting.

So this was his plan all along, huh? Maybe he's gotten bored of sex on a bed and room like normal couples, because ever since that time you sucked his dick in his trailer, Pedro has shown an appetite for public sex. Well, more like just shown but never done. Guess that changes as of tonight.

I'm coming.

Truth is, after the reveal and fight, you hadn't had sex since that time before the London premiere. Press tour hadn't finished, and the movie was still playing in theathers, but it feels much longer the time you had gone without having his dick rearranging your insides. That changes as of tonight.

You practically leap out of your sit, rushing to the restroom, which is too fancy for your liking. You're unsure how to proceed, and it should be because you realized how stupid and reckless this is, but it's more because you don't know which door Pedro is behind: men or women.

You knock softly on the ladies room first. "I'm here" you speak, voice small.

After a few seconds, a muffled voice from behind replies: "Me too"

You giggle as he pulls you inside, mouth devouring yours in a hot kiss.

"The lock!" you squeal, yet Pedro is busy buring his face between your breasts, pulling the dress down until he's nipping at the skin before licking the spot with his tongue. Your back is pressed against the tiled white wall, cold meeting your now heating skin.

"Mmm, missed this" he mumbles in a drunken state. "Needed my girls so bad"

His words elicit a moan out of you, a way to comunicate that your body too had been aching for this.

"Please, Pedro-" you whimper, trying to get rid of the pretty dress. He doesn't say it, but his movements command for power, big hands dragging your dress down until the black cloth falls to the floor in a sound filled with grace, it feels merciful.

"Black panties? But I thought I was a man with a plan" he groans, calloused digits ghosting over the wet patch in the middle. He smells your arousal off his fingers, and this is so nasty but you're so into it.

"Two can play" is all you answer, eager fingers unbuckling his belt as you unbutton the formal pants and pull them down to his knees, so with his underwear.

"Sure thing" he chuckles darkly. "Just look at you, baby. So loud, but you gotta be quiet. ¿Quieres que alguien entre y te vea así? Fucking slut, begging for my cock" (do you want someone to come in and see you like this?)

He's always been sweet-talking you through sex, and you know he doesn't mean it aside from being lewd words, but you also didn't know you could be aroused by it. Change is welcome, to say the least.

His hard dick is immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs, like he's got no time to loose, kissing you roughly like he hasn't eat and your mouth is his meal.

"Twenty minutes" he grumbles, groaning.

"Or thirty" you add, whining when his cock brushes dangerously close to your dripping folds.

"Can't believe you're this wet already" he chuckles, but it sounds more like a breathy sigh, lost in the inside of your mouth.

"I've been wet since before we left the house and you kissed me"

"And I kissed you" he adds. "No sé ni por qué putas te traje si sólo quería quedarme en casa y comerte" (i don't know why the fuck i took you out if all i wanted was to stay at home and eat you out)

You moan at his dirty mouth, clicking your tongue as a way to say so.

"You dirty old man-" it dies in your throat when he glides inside your folds with ease, a finger slipping in, then two, as he curls them. Your head rolls back, landing against the door with a hollow thud.

"Dirty? But you enjoy this, don't you?" his fingers buried up your hilt. Your eyelids flutter, whimpering drowned by your lips, bitten so deep you think you start to taste blood. "Bad news, mami. You're as dirty as me"

You choke in your words. "No-"

"No what?" Pedro mocks, sliding his digits out of you and shoving them inside his mouth, sucking on them while looking at you. You whine at the display and loss of them, knowing he's tauting you for fun. "Don't tell me you don't want someone to come in here and see you acting like a dirty slut? To see you almost coming here and now with just two of my fingers"

"Fine. What if I want to, huh? Just give me your damn cock already and quit teasing"

Words were lewd, but Pedro smiles with adoration.

"That's my girl"

His length springing free to slap against his now smooth stomach, your mouth drooling.

"Sit"

He glares back, "in the toilet?"

"Well, do you happen to see a couch or bed?" you quip. "That's right: you were the one who chose the bathroom, desperate old man. So needy, aren't you?"

You see your husband turning around, ashamed, and you laugh. "I didn't think it through" and you avoid to add a that's quite obvious snarky type of reply.

"Want me as much as I do?" Pedro doesn't protest anymore, grunting some spanish curses before sitting on the cold surface. "Good. Then comply"

You swing a leg over his lap, not afraid if the thing breaks, dragging your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, biting at your lower lip to hide a growl that seems to erupt from deep within his chest.

"Gonna ride you, baby. Is that okay?" you take the lead, and Pedro gets frustrated that you're taking up a plan that was originally his. Despite such, he just finds himself nodding wordlessly like a fool.

You line up, desperate to have him inside of you. But you go slowly down, taking his size, maybe because you're drunk or because you'd never fucked in a bathroom before. Because, really, how will you even try to explain your PR team a broken bathroom?

You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push. His strong arm cages your waist, as he moans in your ear, bodies going up and down in sync. His slides are smooth across his length, helping you find your pace.

"Fuck" you whimper, legs starting to shake. "I think I-"

"I know" he interrupts you, a quick kiss to your earlobe. "It's okay; I've got you, linda"

He thrusts upwards, toilet creaking as Pedro keeps you in place.

You bury your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your moans, skin slapping against skin loudly, his movements becoming faster. The pressure keeps on adding, until the tightness on your walls is too much, and you're collapsing over his chest, folds spasming as he empties his load inside of you, seed deep in your walls, dripping down your legs.

"Oh, shit" you gasp, "Pedro!"

"Perdón!" he shouts, then covers his mouth. "Mierda, no quise ser tan ruidoso. Ay, carajo. Didn't want to spill all over you-" (sorry! didn't mean to be so loud. oh, fuck)

"There's a sink" you start, "and toilet paper. We'll manage"

"Right" he looks at his watch, "we got about ten minutes"

You smile, cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck. "If the chef took the whole thirty"

"There's only one way to find out" he gasps for air. "Pero, ¿no estás llena? Still up for dessert?" his big hand finds it's way to your tummy, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. It lingers, and when you look into his eyes, he averts his gaze, ashamed of whatever he thought. (but, aren't you full?)

"After this, I need some sugar to make it home" your eyelids drop. "I'm starving"

He presses a loud kiss to your head, "that's my girl"

"Yours" you pull back to rest your forehead against his. "Just yours"

He jolts forward, capturing your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it.

"Good. Now, I'll give my good girl what she deserves" he takes some toilet paper to clean his spilling load out of you, kisses running from your face to neck. Then, gently so, lets you dress in again, exiting the bathroom first to give you some cleaning up space. When you come back to your table, the Soufflé is there.

"Eat" he commands, voice thick and rough. You smirk, giving it a bite as you look into his eyes: hair disheveled, puffy lips and droopy eyes. The bite mark seems to shine, or maybe you need to lay down for a while. "Y no mires atrás, ¿sí? We got ourselves a crowd" (don't look back, yeah?)

That night, you upload a story with a picture of the dessert with a caption that reads: best meal I've ever had. The context is lost until news of your bathroom affairs hit headlines next morning, but you don't notice: your phone happens to be dead, and you're too busy getting railed in what could count as round two to charge it.

pompeiianbollockr: hello just woke up and saw the pictures WTF TMZ??? did they really do #that 😭 bring back public shaming unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they fucked in that fancy ass restroom ㅤㅤmostannoyingbillioner: unhing3dprincess QUEEN U ARE BACK 😭 BETTING UR GRANDMA AGAIN? OH IKTR WE WERE LOOSING THE ANCIENT TEXTS poppysplayground: ohhhhh they're so nasty (do u want a third) ㅤㅤann-gell: poppysplayground fr like INVITEN

The interview for Entertainment Weekly's behind the cover for Gladiator II was supposed to just include Paul and Pedro, but taking advantage of the free publicity and buzz your announcement made, they added you. Especially after the news about your restroom affair had hit, courtesy of TMZ; the rumor wasn't taken into account in the beginning, but now added gasoline to the gossip fire. Just what the movie needed: free promo.

You're sat in the middle of the two men, dressed in white as well, to match their attires with a flowy dress that loosely resembles that of Rome's. Then, Paul begins to speak.

"I saw the film for the first time when I was about 13 with my dad" he talks about the original movie.

"I saw it in the movie theater when it came out" you imagine a young Pedro lined up to see Russell Crowe's magnetic performance and let out a small smile. "I saw it twice, because of how emotional the movie was. Obviously it's incredibly visceral, and epic and the kind of movie you rarely get to see made, uh, these days"

You look at him, elbow resting on the arm chair as your body is all turned to his side. Truth is, you love listening to him, especially when he seems so invested, love for the subject rooted in each word.

Pedrito, you'd affectionally call. Ésto es una conversación, no un monólogo. And he'd blush embarrased, only for you to laugh it off, saying you would turn mute if that meant for him to continue speaking. (this is a conversation, not a monologue)

"It had an impact emotionally. I remember that, I guess, sadistically I was drawn to a second time go back again because, weirdly, it was very comforting. I remember it perfectly came out in year 2000. Right?" he asks, and Paul and you agree with a yeah. "I can remember what theater I was in and everything-"

"What theater was it?" Paul interrupts his passionate talking.

Pedro stops, "It, uh-" he rambles, before you all laugh.

"What about you, y/n? Were you even born?" Paul jokes, making you roll your eyes at his antics and deliberate desire to keep nagging you like some older annoying brother.

"I was like, born a year after you, Paul. But I didn't watch the movie until I was fifteen" you feel the gaze of both men fall upon you. "The first Ridley Scott movie I watched was Thelma and Louise, as you all know. Then my dad insisted I should watch it, and finally, at fifteen, when I had given up on my dreams to go on one last epic trip to the Grand Canyon, he played it. My eyes, they were, like, glued to the screen. I couldn't stop thinking about it for a while" you leave a small lingering touch on Pedro's arm, "just like he said: epic and emotional. Also, I had a huge fat crush in Joaquin Phoenix that lasted until I was twenty"

"That was like, seven years ago!" Pedro yells, making Paul snorts. "I feel deceived"

"Qué dramático. We're both married, you big baby!" you laugh, then make a joke before the next conversation starts: "You wouldn't think he plays an epic Roman General, would you?" (how dramatic)

They film some shots of you and the boys before moving to the next talk.

"I was doing a play in London at the time. I'd met with Doug and Lucy who are the producers of the film in LA, and then a zoom was set up and I spoke to Ridley for about 5 minutes about what Gladiator was going to be about. And then we spoke for the next 25 minutes about like, gaic football and dogs, and then I thought we'd do like camera tests and- but no, he just-" he shrugs. "I found out about two weeks later"

Now it's Pedro's turn.

"I knew that the project existed. I knew that Paul was doing it. I think it started with an actual like meeting with Ridley to go and sit down with him and I, whether or not the movie was going to happen for me or not, I was like I'm going to go meet Ridley Scott" he jokes, making you both chuckle. "It wasn't even about getting the job, it was like I'm going to go and sit down maybe five minutes, ten, twenty, as many minutes as I can"

"It was in LA" you speak up, "in his offices"

"Yeah, and thankfully he was willing to talk about all the things I wanted to know about, in terms of other movies, and that's what it really turned into"

"He's a wonderful Storyteller" Mescal compliments. "You could sit down with Ridley for-"

Pedro makes a joke, speaking over him. "Give me another one, give me another one-"

You still kind of hate the guy after his supposed comments on your husband's weight, but won't talk bad about a man who gave you work and your biggest role to the date yet, so you explain how it happened to you.

"I wasn't even planned to appear on the movie. As a matter of fact, my character was squeezed in last minute. Ridley is, just as they said, indeed, a storyteller" you smile. "The truth is, I worked with Cuba, his granddaughter, on a proyect together, a photography one. I was in London at the time, auditioning for a movie, when we met"

"London?" Paul asks.

"Yes" you laugh, ashamed. "I traveled to London with some of my savings, because you know what they say about not doing and then regretting. But I do regret it; I cried for my money to be back!"

"You didn't get the part" Pedro adds, barely containing a snicker.

"I didn't" you sigh, "Cuba saw me sitting alone on a café, eyes red with tears of failure and talked me into capturing such vulnerable moment. She didn't know me but made my day better, and she took some of the most beautiful pictures I've seen of myself. So, in a way, I won. I mean, she's the reason I got the role: my name came up on a phone call with Scott, as I had already made a name for myself, and showed him the pictures. He got in contact with my agent and I got the role after auditioning. Call that friendship nepotism"

"Didn't Pedro tell you about it? I find it funny that he was in the movie and didn't get you in" Paul comments, curiously.

"We were supposed to remain a secret, and the sudden connection when we had barely interacted according to the public, would've been weird. So no, Pedro rubbed his role on my face and then I came home with the new script as he received his. We both won our roles separately, and until we got it both, we realized just what it would mean"

"But now we're here" Pedro speaks fondly, taking your hand. "Rome conquers it all"

You can only hold his and stare back lovingly.

"Oh" the Irish man feigns disgust, "don't get all lovey dovey on me!"

The topic changes again, as Paul speaks.

"We meet early in the film, and this is again kind of Ridley's genius. He shoots it in a way that it feels plausible, but in like- the real action of that there's no way-"

They start talking ovwe each other excitedly about the process of filmaking, Pedro listing all the settings were the epic action takes place.

"We lock eyes" Pedro jests, "we lock eyes"

"All right" Paul plays along. "Three, two, one"

"i'm right here" you say, pushing your body to the front. "You got me third wheeling in my own marriage"

Paul laughs, breaking contact.

"Time for you to get a taste of your own medicine. You've made the rest of this press tour unbearable!" he protests, but his tone is devoid of complain.

"Marcus Acacius represents like-" Mescal then speaks about your husband's character, "he's a Roman general"

"No, he is the general of Rome" you correct, smirking.

"Be careful, princess. Don't let the emperor see you all over his General" the blue-eyed man next to you mocks, and you roll your eyes again.

"Will you ever let me live?"

Paul then talks about his character. "I'm like a lieutenant in the numidian Army. I kind of see Acacius as this, he- he represents everything that I hate about, uh, the Roman Empire"

"Well, the Roman Empire is expanding and expanding" Pedro takes the word, "and invading Numidia just to gain more and more power, and we realize that there really is kind of no ceiling to the lust of that power"

"And that's to do with the Emperors, right? Like, played by Joe and Fred who are wonderful" Paul adds, complimenting both actors in the process. "And let's not forget our Empress too"

You make a face at that, feeling in the need to defend your character.

"Empress Alba is tragedy. I think she embodies well the feelings of helpnessless all women felt during that time. She's an object, another shiny possesion subjected to her husband's amusement, so she drowns in all pleasure available to forget her existence. Lucius hates her because he sees all the filth of Rome in her, like, this whole debauchery and squandering while the people beg for scraps. But it's a pattern seen across history, isn't it?" you pause. "I think it's interesting to compare her to Lucilla, because she's loved by the people, seen as human- despite being noble. It's sad because it's until too late that Lucius realizes she's a victim of the system he hates"

Pedro smiles at your little intervention, loving the way you explain a character you'd play so graciously. One of your favorite movies is Marie Antoinette, by Sofia Coppola, so probably it felt personal to you in some level. God, hadn't you made him watch it at least ten times?

"It unravels through the film that I've kind of miscalculated who I think Acacius is, just as with Alba" Paul comments.

"His character misunderstands my character just like Paul misunderstands us" Pedro quips, making both of you laugh.

"Then it kind of culminates in a big fight that we have in the-"

"Doesn't it always?" you add. "Wouldn't be an epic without it"

"Do you want to talk about it?" Paul dares, jokingly.

"No we're not talking about it" he cuts him off.

"Who's the better fighter'" Paul asks after some silence. Pedro dares him with a go on.

"I would say I'm better the better share. What you think?"

"I would say Lucius is the better fighter"

"Lucius is the better fighter" Pedro repeats slowly, incredulous. "Do you want us to fight? Lucius is a better fighter than the general of Rome, who survived decades and conquered" Paul tries to defend himself but Pedro doesn't let him. "I fight four men before I get you, and I call it off!"

"Yeah, but I think if you hadn't called it off -"

"You don't think I would have do some sort of mature aged learning-"

They end up discussing a bit more until you clear your throat.

"Why don't you ask for a third party to break your tie?" and you point towards yourself, mouthing a cute me with your painted pink lips.

"No!" Paul immediatly opposes, "It would be biased, silence her!"

"Have you seen Acacius' arms?" you gauge Pedro's arms, biceps flexing under the white attire. "It definitely isn't biased, at all"

The conversation carries on after some more shots. In some, you pose seriously, but in between such, you laugh along with them, Pedro even hugging you and Paul from behind in one of both. No kisses yet, but you know fans will be rabid just with the lingering touches and flirty undertones in your interactions.

"We began together in Morocco, and I think seeing that set and the scale of the production so quickly, desensitized me to the scale of the of what- Malta was in the Coliseum, and Ridley moves at such a pace, which I actually think really helped me because you don't have time to kind of sit there and and kind of bask in the wonder of it" Paul talks. "Because you're shooting three or four scenes, build your expectations of how to meet the size of, it or anything 'cuz 'cause it's impossible" Paul looks at Pedro and asks: "and I think Ridley; did I tell you what Ridley said first day of shooting to me? He came out to the tent while they were dressing the set, thousands of extras, everything fire, camels and he comes in, and he's- he's smoking a cigar, and we're all stood around and he's like Are you nervous? and we're all like No and he slaps me on the back and goes Your nerves are no good to me, before we filmed anything. But I think it was like- it's funny, but it's this idea that this is your playground, and you have to kind of step into it and own it. So, I-I don't actually really remember my first walking into the Coliseum, 'cause I feel like I lived in the Coliseum for about three or four weeks"

"You lived in the Coliseum of your mind" Pedro quips, making Paul laugh.

"I do remember, you know, when I first walked into the Coliseum, you know. It- it gave me chills. Like, literally chills. Look! I still get the goosebumps" you point your arm. "Honestly, all of it felt just too real, and I couldn't help but for a moment, think I actually was in Rome- that I belonged to nobility"

Pedro takes your hand and kisses it gently. "That's because you do, princesa"

"One of the things that I have never experienced on a movie before, is that there was so little left to the imagination" Pedro expresses. "Me and the rest of the ensemble are together in the emperor's box, and there's this enormous battle that's taking place, and Ridley composed all of the off camera for us in the emperor's box, with Paul leaping from one ship to another taking two men down what would you call that?"

"A cloth line flying" Paul answers.

"Clothes line?" you try.

"A flying- a flying clothes line" Pedro decides, carrying on "just so that we could know what we were looking at. I couldn't f*****g believe it"

"That's true" you remark. "The result goes so hard- I mean, it looks amazing" you sheepily laugh. "The action, the violence, the epic... it all shines through. It just- it makes sense"

The conversation shifts again.

"The legacy of the first film is so profound, and has such a strong place in so many people's, like, hearts and minds, it's inescapable, but I was looking at it- and I was like" Paul shares. "The screenplay does a lot of that work for you in terms of like, the rubbing the dirt between the hands. the kind of DNA and the genetics that Lucius inherits. I remember reading the script and there's like, a moment in the script where it's Lucius puts on the breastplate and it's written like Lucius now becomes Maximus"

"But Lucius, despite being a son, is also a man" you counter. "He isn't Maximus"

Paul agrees.

"I kind of tried to park that to one side, because ultimately, where Lucius is coming from at the start of the film, he has a very different journey than Maximus does, and I was hoping that whatever DNA- and even just the physical gestures, was going to be one part of- a kind of small part of the performance" he explains. "What I tried to do is figure out exactly who Lucius was and where those differences lay between Lucius and Maximus"

"One of the things that I loved most about my character is that he's introduced in the beginning of the movie, in this very epic battle sequence, that I think in its own way homages the first film" Pedro shares. "But even better, because we follow him back to Rome and discover his direct connection to one of the only characters that is living and with us from the first movie, and I loved being a a kind of thread, an invitation, into what we know from the first movie by being Connie Nielsen's man"

Paul looks at you silently, before poking your side: "Someone is real quiet with that comment"

You narrow your eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about"

"I am Connie Nielsen's man as Marcus Acacius, but as Pedro Pascal, I'm all y/n's"

Your face goes red at how easily you are to be understood, your husband answering just what you wanted to listen.

"Ha! Look at your face, I was right!" Paul ridiculises you.

But after such an embarrasing moment, he shifts the conversation again.

"There's a moment where Pedro has this, uh- it's so clever from a- from an acting standpoint, but also in the in the script like, you see this brutalizing Force come into Numidia, and there's this section where there's the burning of the bodies, and that it's one of my favorite shots in the film" Paul muses. "It's this closeup on Pedro, when he says Vae Victis to the conquered, and you feel like it's a really difficult thing to communicate in one line, that you see: Oh, this General is, kind of wearing this responsibility with great difficulty and shame"

"I wasn't doing that at all" your husband deadpans. You stiffle a giggle.

"You were very good in it" Paul argues back with a smile.

"That wasn't what I was playing" he insists, serious but Paul asks What were you playing? and you all laugh.

"If I had a favorite scene, I'd say it'd be naval fight" you mention. "The colliseum is filled with water, and it's this- it feels like a thing that has never been done before, and with the people cheering and the buzz, and the announcement and echo of the drumming, it's as if you were there, in the crowd. The tension is palpable, the violence is thrown at your face but the scariest one, is the one that lies underneath. Uh, Lucius character tries to attack the General while we, you know, the royals and especial guests, are sitting at our box, and he gets so close, it serves, I think the bottom climbing the ladder to bite the ankles of the top. Obviously, that before we know who Lucius actually is, but I think it's kind of cool"

The interview is ending, the last of your twelve-minute conversation being filmed now.

"I am really excited for everyone to see Paul" Pedro beams, making the younger one laugh. "I'm sorry but it has to be said. You are sensational in the movie" then adds, "and pretty easy on the eyes"

"Everyone in this movie is easy in the eyes" you quip, looking at your side. Pedro coughs a bit before speaking again, even if a faint blush is coating his cheeks.

"-And he worked so hard, and I got to see that happen like, in front of me, and on the day and just lead with Ridley, this enormous crew and this enormous cast... To get to see that, on the big screen, is really exciting and I think people are going to- they're going to love it"

"That's very kind" you exclaim softly with a smile, then add. "I'm sure of it, especially if you were a fan of the first. Both are very interwined, although each film is its own thing" you comment.

"For a lot of us, the actors, we haven't worked on a film on that scale" you violently shake your head "and I think, there's a little bit of trauma bonding that went on with, kind of having to- kind of feel like, total impostor syndrome within it all. But to see your friends operate at that level on a film of that scale, doing like incredible work. I think, across the board, I haven't seen a film on this scale for a long long time rhat's rooted it has the scale and the performances, and I personally think it's one of Ridley's greatest pieces of work"

senhoritamayblog: y/n was SO REAL holding pedro's arm and talking abt how he'd beat paul bc he's beefy ME WHEN moltisantiii: you know what i think ridley's greatest piece of work is? giving us this trio youlooklike-clarabow: y/n is truly a princess 🥹 i don't know if i want to be y/n to be with pedro or pedro to be with y/n ㅤㅤann-gell: youlooklike-clarabow well, she's the people's princess after all!

You haven't even left the room when Pedro is all over you, kissing your neck on that sweet spot of yours that elates a little breathy whine. Doesn't he know you well?

"What are you doing?" you manage to squeak out as his needy big hands grope your body, flesh soft under the flowy white dress. He grunts when he catches your panties, embarrasingly wet already at just a few sloppy kisses and eager touches.

"What do you think?" he whispers against your ear as you both try to walk away from where voices can be heard, and then Pedro is guiding you to a room, closing the door behind him. If he was able to walk to the room while kissing you, he must've seen it in a passing. Had your husband plan this all along? Greedy needy old man.

"What I think, baby, is you're forgetting something" you push him off, giggling. He makes a little pout, making it hard to keep your ground. "Now that everyone knows we're married and we suddenly both go misteriously missing at the same time, they'll just put two and two together. I mean, does it really take a smart person to figure it out?"

Pedro doesn't back down, still caging your frame against the locked door.

"So?" his annoyed and tense voice only makes you laugh more. That turned on was he? Pedro seems annoyed at your fit of laughter, his pants tight.

"What do you mean so? We almost got caught by Paul last time!" you chuckle amused. "And, are you seriously going to pretend TMZ didn't air our bussiness just about last week?"

"Well, maybe you should've thought about it before" he goes back at the task of attacking your mouth, words spewing in between hungry kisses. You mouth a little taunting innocent looking Before what? and then Pedro is talking while his gaze is glued to yours, tightening his arms around you, and the answer is just about that. "You should've thought about it before getting all flirty with me, grabbing my arm in front of the camera like the naughty girl you are. So fucking needy you can't hide it for a few hours, can't even go through an interview without touching me, looking at me, being possesive at a fictional marriage even" your face burns hot with embarrasment at that. Oh, was he being nasty on purpose? Why bring that up? "Haven't I taught you manners?"

It's hard to force yourself to hold his gaze while standing still. Taunting. Defiant.

"José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you chastise, "do you want people to know we are raw dogging in the dressing room? That's the manners you so badly talk about"

His face goes red, his demostrations stopping for a bit as he studies your now serious face.

"Wait, do you want to raw dog in the dressing room?" he gasps at the boldness in your words, which, to be fair, is kind of exaggerated, as you both have said worst stuff before. "That's not what I had in mind"

"That's not?" you arch an eyebrow. "Oh, no. Absolutely not. You can't just kiss my neck greedily and touch my body eagerly like a goddamn starved horny idiot, and then expect me to not act up on it, you old man"

There's silence before he speaks up again. "Y/n, you talked about manners"

You take a deep breath in, making sure the door is actually locked.

"Well, fuck them manners"

You capture his lips on a hungry kiss, same kind of force you had made fun of him, just minutes ago. He's pushing his tongue inside of you, as his hands move up to your shoulders and back down to your waist. You rub yourself against him, looking for some kind of friction, and his big calloused hands pulls your waist closer in an attempt to do the same.

"Manners maketh man" he's reciting, and such stupid proverb and line from one of his old works shouldn't turn you this much. Pedro lifts up the dress until your body is devoid of the cotton, murmuring about how unfair it was for you to taunt him with translucent cloth, tender flesh hiding under the white. So hard to focus on interviews, mami, when you're close to me or something like that, as you're too lost in the fire. No bra? Fuck, baby. Do you want to kill me?

"Sofa" you command, eyes darting to the furniture so you can show him where. "Now"

You take off your panties in a go, revealing the slick that's just a few seconds from running down your legs.

"I see, my legs won't be the only thing drooling" you mock his agape mouth. He takes off the blazer with shaking hands, sitting as you get on top of him. Pedro kisses his way down your neck, sucking on the skin. How will you get out of here without comfirming suspicions? Surely, there must be something inside here that could be of help.

"Well, I've wanted to do this for a while" he mumbles against the now red patches of before honey-ed skin. Again? you think.

"Have me or fuck again in public?" you ask out loud, and even if you're laughing, there's a layer of fondness in your voice. "I'm starting to wonder if you have an exhibition kink, papi"

He breathes a little no before biting right above your collarbones, his tongue then releaving the pain with a wet slick move over the flesh as you let out a whine.

"Busy schedule, mami. A husband's gotta find a way to make time for his pretty wife, even if it means fucking her in the goddamn dressing room" he says into your ear. Pedro had done more interviews than you, and between that and filming for his other projects, he's right. "So what if they find out? Need them to know who you belong to. I'm just a devoted husband, will you punish me for that?"

You caress his face, pristine hair now disheveled, the gel succumbing to the heat and sweat trapped in the room.

"Look at you, naughty boy. El burro hablando de orejas" you laugh, "but of course I won't. Need you too so bad" (look who's talking)

His finger wanders down to your pussy, big hand roaming around the area. His middle and ring finger run over it, the golden band starting to shine with your arousal. Fuck, that just made you wetter.

"Shit, baby. You're so eager... wasn't lying when you talked before"

"Needed you since you kissed me today, when you woke up" your teeth grit at his lingering digits. "Your dick rubbed against my bare thigh, fucking hard"

Truth is, you're always horny; being married to Pedro Pascal does that to you. But mornings? Waking up to that handsome face and girthy dick? You really be testing yourself sometimes.

"Jesus, mami" he whistles. "So fucking dirty, thinking about me all the interview because my morning wood grazed your skin, you dirty naughty girl"

Pedro finally slides his fingers inside of you, making you squirm under his gaze as your back archs. "So fucking beautiful, can't believe you're all mine" he moans and you squeeze his shoulders, nails digging and bruising his skin under the shirt that sticks to his skin, body heating up like a furnace.

"Please, Pedro" you plead, lip biting your under to supress a whimper. "Please curl your fingers, need to have you- feel you inside. Fuck-"

Your words cut off as he moves his fingers with learned ease, his thumb rubbing your clit as a treat.

"Mmm" you murmur with pleasure, back arched again, your tits too dangerously close to his face. Without much thought, he licks your nipple and then devours the whole breast with his mouth. All while looking at you, this absolute horndog. Your nails dig in deeper as you pronounce his name in a shaky exhale. Wanting more. Begging for more.

"Mmm? That's right" his palm on your waist squeezes lightly, more pressure on his grip. "Can't speak 'cause I'm making you feel so good, huh?"

You don't answer, instead throwing your head back, nails digging deep to the point he winces, making a face by the pain. You mouth an apology, but then he licks your nipple again, and teeth move to your nibble your earlobe―you're not sorry anymore.

"S-stop" you choke out, body shivering.

"What? Can't take what you asked for? No muerdas más de lo que puedes masticar, niña mala. Bad girl" (don't bite off more than you can chew, bad girl)

His lewd words elicit another moan out of you.

"I-I can. In fact, I want- no, need more. I don't want to cum on your fingers" you whisper in his ear, hot breath probably why he shivers. "Pull down your pants, pretty boy, because I want to cum on your dick"

"Fuck, mami. What a dirty mouth" he moans.

Eager hands try to lower his pants as your fiddle with the same feel, the borrowed wardrobe struggling to get off in the current position. His underwear goes next, and you squirm as he aligns his tip with your dripping entrance.

You moan and he grunts, as his dick enters your tight folds, sounds clashing onto each other as so do your bodies, fitting perfectly. His hands travel from your waist to ass, his head against the back of the sofa, your hands that were before on his shoulders now on his chest.

"Such a pretty view you're giving me, wifey" he tries to laugh, but the sound comes out strained along each powerful stride of his cock that buries inside of you, each bouncing harder, his hands pathethically running over your ass, back, hips, and legs, as his eyes devour the way your tits jiggle with each thrust, tongue burning with desire to suck on the skin again. "So beautiful, and all mine. Only mine. Mía"

His words drip with devotion and wordship; all the love in the world. Pedro calls you beautiful, goddess, and a string of spanish words crossed with adoration. Mami. Linda. Princesa. Diosa. Hermosa. It has your orgasm looming over, head spinning and pussy stretched, walls tightening.

"I'm close" you whisper, riding him with soft-paced movements as his turn sloppy.

You see stars, walls almost kicking his dick out as you coat it in your slick, arousal dripping down until it's coated his balls and smeared the white attire. Fuck. Now Pedro's moving his waist, hunting for his own orgasm.

"Me too" he breathes out, "stay with me"

His hands travel sloppily to your waist, lazily holding you still with his calloused digits.

"Quick, baby" you breath out, "I'm sensitive"

"I'm almost there. Just hold on a little longer" then a whine before shakily pleading. "Please, please, just wait for me"

You move your hips slowly, aroused by his needy pleads, robbing a moan out of him. "Cute" you praise, making his cheeks redden with sweat and blush.

He is cute: hair messed up, mouth red and puffy, and brown puppy eyes.

"I love you so much" Pedro let's out, and it sounds like a confession, despite being married for so long.

"I know, baby, I know" you reach for his face, removing some sweat beads from his forehead, and he leans on the touch, closing his eyes as another gutural growl erupts from his chest. "I love you too"

You keep on riding until you feel his dick twitch inside of your walls.

"We need to stop doing this" you pant out.

"Too late for that, bonita. At least no one found out this time" Pedro laughs. "But you like the talk, don't you? Gonna give 'em something to talk about" he pants, "will fill you up so good you won't be able to walk without my seed spilling from you" sweat beads from your face fall onto his. He obscenely licks the salty drops. "Te voy a dar tantos hijos, que no cabrán en la casa. That way they will know you're mine" (will give you so many kids, they won't fit in the house)

You moan loufly, folds now coated on thick ropes of hot cum, as his movements come to a stop, slowing down until all that can be heard is your uneven breaths trying to recover.

And on cue, there's a knock at the door. Shit. You both remain silent, as if it would stop, but the knocking turns persistent.

"Pedro, I know you're in there"

It's Paul freaking Mescal, again. You might just have to invite him next time if he keeps showing up like that.

"Should I go?" Pedro whispers, and you shrug, stating it would be weirder to pretend he wasn't if Paul knew he was. "How do I look?"

You eye him up and down, eye glistening with dissaproval, red cheeks giving away your thoughts as if the furrowed eyebrows and ashamed gaze didn't already.

"We are fucked"

"No" he giggles, "we just fucked"

"That's not funny!" you roll your eyes, playfully smacking his chest. "Please, look into the mirror and try to fix yourself a bit. If not, we're doomed to be remembered as a horny couple. Oh, we were going so well! Fans will make fun of us and the press will call us horndogs" you lament, exaggerating your voice.

"Oh, shush. We wanted to be able to be in public. This is what it feels like"

You blush. "Maybe we can reduce the public aspect a bit..."

Pedro snorts before doing a quick fix to his appearance, walking to the door where Mescal patiently waits behind. Oh, of course; that little fucker. After the TMZ news dropped, he connected the dots and know that whatever happened in that trailer when Pedro told him to fuck off, wasn't holy at all. Now, he's probably laughing or scheming.

"Paul!" Pedro opens the door. "W-what's up?"

The younger man does a quick scan of his friend, barely able to hide a laugh.

"Looking radiant, my friend" he answers with a shit-eating grin. "They need to do some re-shootings. Have you happen to seen y/n? She just keeps dissappearing when you- oh, when you do!" he mocks. "Well, if you ever happen to find y/n, tell her you both need to get a good fix unless y'all want to show up on TMZ again. I'm pretty sure you can find something in this dressing room to cover those marks, yeah?"

He finally breaks down laughing in front of Pedro's shocked face.

"Ah, you guys are the absolute worst" he folds in a fit of laughter, "so fucking horny you end up fucking in bathrooms and dressing rooms!"

Your voice can be heard from inside as you growl, face red with fury and shame:

"Hijo de puta" (son of a bitch!), "don't make me bring Daisy Edgar-Jones into this!"

l-u-n-a-m: they're just milking their relationship atp for promo but i'm not complaining need more pictures of the photoshoot NOW vnightx: istg if they don't stop flirting in front of my single ass face. i need a gun at0michips: have i gone insane or does pedro have love bites ㅤㅤmybritishstyle: MI HIJO DOES NOT HAVE LOVE BITES. HE JUST FELL DOWN THE STAIRS

*i'm never gonna call twitter as X. it's still twitter, and will always be. fuck that ugly bigot filthy billionaire hoe called elon-trump-cocksucker-musk.

[bitebitekxll]

Do they purr - genshin non-humans

៚ Zhongli ✧ Xiao ✧ Wanderer ✧ Albedo ✧ Venti

Notes: Holy hell how do I have 50 followers??? THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR SUPPORTING MY SILLY MUSINGS. This literally was just my way to learn how to write smut and post self-indulgent head canons but I’m glad people are enjoying this with me :DDDD

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈 ᥫ᭡

Yes, 100%. He will deny it every time but lay on this man’s chest, maybe press a kiss to his jaw, and his chest is going like a fucking engine. He will insist that it’s not a purr, it’s simply a content growl— or perhaps a rumble, at most. He isn’t some measly cat, after all, he is a mighty dragon, the Prime Adeptus—

It’s definitely a purr.

Get him a cat ear hairband. He will give you the most long-suffering, unamused look while he wears them, but he will wear them. Anything for his beloved ♡~

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 ᥫ᭡

No, unfortunately. You have found no evidence that your stone-faced Yaksha is capable of emitting a purr, or purr-like sound (though certainly not for lacking of trying).

However… there is the matter of whether he is able to trill or coo like a bird, given that is his true nature.

He gets annoyed when you ask him, adamant that is not something he can do, and how dare you even entertain such a notion. Have you no respect for the adepti? Hmph.

…but you swear you’ve heard him chirp when you catch him off guard: kissing him without warning or praising him unabashedly.

It seems this will require further investigation.

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀 ᥫ᭡

Not purring, but whirring!! Got this idea from @seabirdtxt ‘s Glitch in Irminsul fic (it’s SAGAU focused on the diff vers of scara existing at the same time, go read it it’s great) and it just makes so much sense to me.

As a mechanical puppet, and an advanced one at that, Scara has tons of machinery going on inside of him. Though it usually can’t be heard, if you get especially close to his chest— a privilege only reserved for you and maybe Nahida during hugs —you can hear the whirring and clicking of his moving parts inside. It doesn’t sound the same as a purr, not exactly, but it’s pretty damn close.

Most of the time it’s pretty faint, but sometimes Scara might just make it louder— it’s got nothing to do with the way your face lights up or how you smile when you hear it, don’t be stupid.

Of course, the only way he can make the noise louder is by overworking his system, making the parts inside move faster than they’re supposed to. If he does it too much or for too long, well…

You’ll know it’s time to lecture him on taking better care of himself when he starts burning up. Overheating is the first sign he’s about to overload his system and shut down (or from everyone else’s perspective: pass out).

You’re the only one who can make him stupid enough to be willing to break his own mechanisms just to see that adorable ridiculous expression on your face. (He might come back to his senses in a petulant huff if you start calling him a cat, tho)

𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐎 ᥫ᭡

Sadly, purring is not a feature homunculi come with. But this is Albedo we’re talking about, he can definitely figure it out.

He won’t tell you just what idea you’ve sparked with your question— you always worry when he starts self-experimenting —but it’ll be fine! He takes all the necessary precautions, limits any risk, because there’s always some risk in life, and downs a concoction or two in his quest to see if he can change the makeup of his own body. As an artificial life form, he’s less delicate than an organic one, so he doesn’t need to worry about pesky issues like rearranging his (non-existent) organs in a fatal manner.

And it works! Well, sort of. You come back home to a boyfriend that is fully capable of purring!! And also!! Has, uh, cat ears…

Albedo would consider it a success— he accomplished his goal, even if there were a few side effects. And you get a pretty catboy equipped with the cute, twitching ears and a fuzzy blonde tail; everybody wins! ♡

Of course, there’s always the chance his experiment just turns him into a cat entirely�� but it wears off after a day or so, so it’s not the worst thing Albedo’s done to himself.

Either way, congratulations, he can now purr for the next 24 hours. And regardless of his cat-to-boy ratio, he will be expecting pets. Get to it~

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈 ᥫ᭡

He has bird vocalisations! Except he’s worse at hiding it then Xiao may or may not be. It’s not outright chirping, but it is a cooing trill in the back of his throat, too vibrational to be a regular hum.

It’s the sound he makes when he’s perfectly content, laying in a warm patch of sun on the soft grass, sat atop a roof with alcohol warming his veins, and curled up in your arms, round cheek smushed against your chest. He takes in a deep breath, filling his lungs with your scent, and then releasing it in a sigh, accompanied by the musical tones of his little trill.

He makes shorter ones when he’s pleasantly surprised; when you unexpectedly toss him an apple or pat his head. He’ll grin or lean into the touch and make that sound in his throat. Too quiet to be heard by the people around you over the din of the town, but you’ll hear it. It’s a sound just for you ♡

[brawberryz]

You're a fucking weird hacker

Batfam Yan! × Troll Hacker! Reader

《Platonic!》

You were a fucking pain

For months you had been bothering the batfam with your stupid pranks, they started off as mild as sending viruses to their emails or making up gossip on the internet

But now? Now you were just annoying, you managed to piss off the whole batfam even batman himself

You managed to hack the batcomputer and fill it with viruses, you even managed to hack Barbara which was quite surprising, your skills with technology went beyond what they had anticipated

No matter what they did they simply couldn't find anything about you, it's like you only existed on the net

One thing was clear, you were much smarter than all of them and you used that intelligence to make their lives miserable and annoy them

But the straw that broke the camel's back was when you threatened to show their secret identities to the world, it wasn't an empty threat you sent them evidence and it was clear that you weren't lying

You had the most important family of heroes in the palm of your hand

From that moment on they became more serious with their investigation, they tried to find anything that could tell them something about you or your information

But every time they found a clue it was just a joke yours, you yourself put those "clues" which were links with viruses that would easily render a computer useless or to weird porn pages and when I say they were weird, they were WEIRD

You were always two steps ahead of them, what surprised everyone the most is that you did nothing with that information

You just wanted to scare them and have fun for a while, your jokes continued but they were no longer as constant as before

Until days after the incident an anonymous email arrived, batman hesitated to open it but after confirming that it was not some kind of virus or joke he read it

He was surprised when he saw that it was a huge world document where you detailed with evidence the next plan of riddler

He was surprised at how well detailed and written it was, you had put the date, place, time and even minute of the attack

At the end there was a small message in the email that confirmed that it was clearly you who had sent that

"Take this as a small apology for my bad behavior :3"

A small smile formed on the man's face, maybe you weren't as bad as he thought

And so the days went by, from one day to the next you had changed now you helped them by filtering information about villains and criminals making their plans fail

In that short period of time you made the negative opinion of the batfam that they had of you change

In that time, you became great friends with Barbara and Tim

You and Barbara loved technology and programming, while with Tim you were both nerds with similar tastes

Of course, you communicated with them from anonymous messages but they still managed to get to know you a lot more

But then a small slip occurred, when you sent one of your reports about a future plan of Joker you forgot to use an anonymous email and you sent it from your main account

That's where your problems began, in a few hours the entire batfamily had your information, from your age, face and address

They discovered that you were barely a teenager with apparently too much free time

They also discovered You didn't have parents, you were an orphan teenager who lived in a small apartment and worked on weekends in those geeky or otaku stores.

Clearly you almost fainted when you opened the door to your apartment thinking it was the pizza delivery guy, you were surprised when you found Batman staring at you.

God, he looked even bigger in person.

"What are you doing here!?"

You said surprised walking backwards, you didn't imagine that he would be able to find your address, although you shouldn't be surprised it was Batman having literally doxed you was the calmest thing he could do

"I want to talk to you"

He tried to sound as serious as possible but it was almost impossible, in his mind he could only think about the person who literally made him lose his mind in person looked so fragile and small

"Well I don't want to talk, so get out"

You were already tired of this, you thought that if you helped him in his cases he would leave you alone but it seems that you awakened that protective paternal instinct

When you were about to close the door he held it tightly preventing you from closing it

"Really?"

You looked at him angrily, you couldn't believe he was so stubborn You let out a sigh of defeat and let him in

"Well, what do you want?"

You said as you laid down on your little couch, he just stood there looking at you

"This place is very dangerous"

That made you raise an eyebrow, why did he care about you?

"So?"

"You should move, the crime rates in this area went up too much"

You just frowned at that comment, who did he think he was to tell you where to live

"I don't care, I've lived here all my life I know how to take care of myself, I don't need your protection"

You didn't need a man you barely knew to take care of you, you had been alone since you were 13, you knew very well how to take care of yourself

After that strange interaction with Bruce you started receiving checks in his names, the water bill, the electricity bill and even your apartment were paid

But apparently it wasn't enough with the man's visit if he didn't also come to visit every fucking member of the batfamily

It started with Richard coming at night and opening (breaking) your window and talking to you as if you were some kind of younger sister, it made you uncomfortable the way he thought he knew you in every way besides being too clingy like hugging you for hours or not wanting to let go

Then he arrived Jason, you didn't have that many problems with him, the only thing you couldn't complain about was that at least he respected your personal space

He used to talk to you about books he read or was reading while you pretended to listen but deep down you just wanted him to get the hell out of your house

Tim wasn't as talkative as Jason or Richard, but still his presence just seemed irritating and annoying to you

It seemed like he thought that just because you had the same tastes you were going to be friends, you hated that he didn't respect your personal space and filled you with questions

Damian, how I hated that little demon he only came to your house to bother you and ask you (force you and threaten you) to fix his things, like his Robin gadgets or to improve something

At least he paid you with the food Alfred made and if you were honest it was delicious, it was worth putting up with his orders if that meant being able to try that kind old man's food

With Barbara you only talked by text, although it bothered you how insistent she could be

Cass was very quiet, she used to come to your house at night and enter your room and watch you work, sometimes she went just to rest a while from the patrol or sometimes she just enjoyed your presence but even so you considered it weird or strange

Steph treated you as if she knew you all your life, she forced you to go shopping with her and go to spas together

It's not that you didn't enjoy it, you just hated being surrounded by people with all your being, plus you felt like she didn't even listen to your opinions, you felt like she was just using you like a toy

You did everything possible to stop talking to them, you even thought about moving somewhere else, with the money that Bruce sent you it was going to be more than enough to go to another city far from Gotham

Far from them

But you knew it was going to be useless, they knew everything about you, you knew that they were even capable of putting cameras hidden around your apartment just to keep a closer eye on you

If you tried to talk to Bruce and tell him he wasn't respecting your privacy he would just use the excuse that he just wanted you to be safe

You hated that he had control over you, that they had any kind of control in your life

It was too late to regret, all eyes were on you

And they weren't going to let you escape from them that easily

I'll leave this here before I go to sleep

byeee