#i liked working full time. i had a good job in a kitchen. i was doing well for myself

[aureatelys]

nobody does it like you do

pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner/fem!reader rating: explicit w.c.: 10k.... a/n: dbf!hotch party ended months ago but im still here

summary:

You don't mean to start something with your dad's best friend during your summer break.

c.w.: 18+ MDNI PLSSSS, dbf!hotch yippee, no y/n, reader is mid-20s and hotch is mid 40s, reader is kind of a brat and also very sexual and forward :), car sex, handjobs in car, v fingering, dom/sub, dirty talk, light degradation kink, size kink if u squint, light choking at the end!, unprotected sex, tbh some plot to mostly porn

read below or on ao3 here <3

You’re nearly half-naked when you first meet him.

It was the first morning back at home during your summer break in your first year of your Master’s program. You hadn’t been home in several months, blaming your rigorous coursework and the full-time job you had, but luckily you were able to use nearly a month’s worth of PTO to coincide with your summer off.

You had gotten in late after flying across the country, but your body still woke up like clockwork just before 9 am.

Currently, as you make eye contact with the tallest and most attractive man you have ever met while wearing a tank top and shorts that barely covered your ass, you couldn’t tell if that was a blessing or a curse.

You had heard your dad rave about what basically sounded like a crush he had over the phone for nearly a year. Aaron Hotchner apparently works with your father at the FBI, albeit in a different department, and they hit it off at a recent gala by discussing golf, expensive scotch, and being annoyed about the latest budget cuts. One Saturday at the country club’s golf course later, your father was hooked, and Aaron has been over at the house nearly every weekend since.

You remember your dad saying something about how he’s hardworking, better than he is at golf, and much nicer than he looks. He didn’t say anything about how hot he was.  

You were stumbling out your bedroom and rubbing at your eyes when you had nearly run into him on the way to the bathroom. You’re still waking up, but you see the genuine surprise and something like want on his face before it’s gone, a neutral expression taking over his handsome features. The clench in his jaw betrays him.

“Excuse me,” he says. His voice is low, deep in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. “I was just heading into the restroom.”

You blink at him, your mind still not having not caught up yet. “Uhm.”

“I can just go to the one downstairs,” he says, giving you an easy smile. It makes him look even more devastatingly attractive and you feel dazed. With that, he turns on his heel and makes his way back downstairs without another word.

You distantly hear your father downstairs calling your name and asking if you’re awake. You feel rooted to the spot, flustered.

You try your best to go through your normal bathroom routine, but your heart still hasn’t calmed down yet. It’s been a while since you’ve dated and even longer since you’ve slept with someone, thus you’ve had a lot of quality time with yourself recently, so seeing the way this older man reacted to you was enough to have you preening a bit. You weren’t imagining it, right?

You tell yourself that you’re feeling lazy after a long day of traveling and not wanting to change yet as you head downstairs into the kitchen, absolutely not hiking your shorts up a little and shimmying your tank top down.

“Good morning,” you chirp as you step into the kitchen. Your dad is already sitting at the dining table, most likely finishing his second cup of coffee, and his face lights up when he sees you as if he wasn’t the one to pick you up from the airport late last night. Aaron is standing in the kitchen next to the coffee machine, pouring into a travel mug.

You ignore the way you can feel Aaron’s dark eyes rove over you; the top of your breasts nearly threatening to spill out, your hard nipples poking through your top, and the curve of your ass peeking out from underneath your shorts.

“Morning, pumpkin,” your dad says cheerily, clearly oblivious to what’s going on between his friend and his own daughter. “This is Aaron, he works at the Bureau with me, I told you about him?”

You vaguely remember when you stalked through his Facebook profile several months ago after your father was tagged with him multiple times. The pictures of him were always blurry, never giving you anything to go off of.

As you stand next to him in the kitchen and crane your neck up to look at him, you realize the pictures really don’t do him justice. He’s handsome, almost boy-ish with the way his hair is clean and not gelled down like in the pictures, flopping in front of his forehead. He’s wearing a tight red polo, showcasing his broad shoulders and forearms in a way that makes you want to drool a bit. His brow is pinched, jaw tense, and you almost think you can hear his teeth grinding when he attempts to keep his eyes on your face and not on your chest.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Hotchner,” you say, giving him an innocent smile. You ignore the mug your dad must have left on the counter for you and stand up on your tiptoes to retrieve one from the overhead cupboard.

You feel a rush of exhilaration when you hear Aaron suck in a breath at the way your tank top hikes up your stomach. When you turn back to him, because he is technically in the way of the coffee machine, you catch the way his eyes sharpen and the way his hand grasps at the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white.

And then it’s gone, just like earlier, replaced with something almost professional, probably the same expression he makes when something ticks him off at work.

Interesting.

“Aaron is fine,” he says, stepping out of the way of the coffee machine and then holds his hand out for you to shake.

You can feel your dad watching you, so you make an effort to tone it down a bit. You put your hand in his, swallowing when you notice just how large his hands are and the way he grips you a bit tighter than what would be considered professional. When you look back up at him, there’s something almost like a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Nice to meet you, Aaron,” you repeat. It’s worth it to see a smile grace his face, replacing that smirk, and causing something fuzzy settle in your chest.

When he lets go and makes his way to sit across your dad at the table, you ignore how your hand suddenly feels like it’s burning.

“We’re about to head to the golf course here in a couple of minutes if you wanted to join?” your dad asks as you pour your coffee and sit down at the head of the table.

You hum and experimentally kick your feet out in Aaron’s direction to where he sits to your left. You make contact with his knee, and you watch almost gleefully as Aaron just barely jumps in his seat. He doesn’t make eye contact with you, just quietly sips at his coffee. It really shouldn’t turn you on the way it does. “I’m okay, I was just planning on hanging out here and catch up on my shows.”

“You sure, pumpkin? I know it’s been a while since you were out on the course but…”

“I think that’s exactly why I shouldn’t come with you,” you laugh. You pull your chair up closer to the table, making it look like you were just trying to get comfortable, when really you just wanted to cop more of a feel of Aaron’s thighs.

“Alright, alright,” your father says, putting his hands up in defeat. “But don’t forget about the retreat later this week with the guys.”

You pause from where you were just about to dig your toes underneath his thigh. “Retreat?”

“I told you about it when I picked you up last night!”

“I think you forgot that you picked me up at one in the morning and I was half-asleep in the car,” you roll your eyes. “But of course I’ll go with you.”

“Great!” Your dad says with that big smile on his face that always makes you feel nostalgic. You don’t really want to go, was honestly just planning on relaxing at home, but if it makes your dad happy and you get to spend more time with him, then you’ll do almost anything.

And if Aaron’s coming too, then well…

Your dad gets up to put his mug in the sink and starts making his way out of the dining room. “You ready to go, Hotchner?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Aaron says, a barely detectable rasp to his voice that has you hiding a smile in your mug.

You’re about to put your foot down when you feel thick fingers circling your ankle and lifting your leg up until your ankle is resting on Aaron’s knee. You nearly squeak in surprise, but the look on Aaron’s face stops you.

He would look calm, composed even, if you didn’t pay attention to the way his eyes have darkened. His brow is pinched, lips pressed into a thin line, as he tightens his grip on your ankle and asks in a low voice “What kind of game are you playing here?”

Not expecting confrontation, you don’t know what to say. Your breath gets stuck in your chest, something about the glare he’s giving you keeps you rooted in your chair.

Because there’s really only two options here. He’s your dad’s best friend, at least 20 years older than you, and you really have no business in sexually riling up this guy you’ve never met before until today. You can apologize, give him a genuine and friendly smile, and go back to your room and pretend this never happened and you weren’t just throwing yourself at some hot older man.

But there’s something about Aaron that you can’t quite put your finger on. You wonder what it would be like to see him without those walls he undoubtedly keeps up all the time, see him come undone. You can tell from his Facebook pictures that he’s a bigshot of some kind, always wearing a fitted suit and not a hair out of place. You can see that now, in his pressed polo and matching belt, that he likes control, his skin nearly thrumming with it. And that’s something you’ve always enjoyed playing with.

You noticed the lack of a wedding ring on his finger, and the way he’s gazing into you now. The hot trail his hand leaves behind as he starts running up your shin, past your knee, and grip at the meat of your thigh says all you need to know.

“What game?” you say, innocently. You even play it up a bit by batting your lashes at him.

His grip on your thigh tightens, and it feels so good, and it’s been so long, you resist rolling your eyes back and instead spread your legs just a bit underneath the table.

“Your father didn’t tell me you were such a brat,” he mutters.

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him,” you say, hoping you don’t sound as out of breath as you feel.

Aaron doesn’t say anything at that, just hums thoughtfully. You don’t have a chance to backpedal, redirect the conversation if you were reading the whole situation wrong, before he’s placing your leg back on the floor with a gentle hand on your ankle and getting up.

“We can talk more about what you want to do after school later,” he says, raising his voice a bit in an effort to appear like he wasn’t just groping you underneath the table.

You almost don’t hear what he says because your gaze is fixed on the obvious tent in his khakis. Your mouth nearly waters, and just knowing that you’re having the same kind of effect on him as he has on you has heat pooling between your thighs.

You shake your head, resisting the thoughts of throwing yourself on your knees in front of him and taking him in your mouth right in the dining room. You grin up at him and, in an impulsive decision that you’re secretly proud of, you reach over to put a hand on his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch.

“Absolutely, Mr. Hotchner.”

Your smile grows wider at the stormy glare he gives you before he heads out of the dining room, imperceptibly adjusting himself in his pants. Your eyes follow him out, cheeks nearly starting to hurt from how hard you’re smiling because damn, does his ass look good.

It’s your summer vacation, you may as well have some fun, right?

-

Since then, you’ve barely seen Aaron.

You had made Aaron and your father sandwiches, knowing they’d be home by the afternoon. You tried not to let the fact that you were upset, disappointed even, show on your face when your dad came home by himself and told you that Aaron got called for a case.

You knew from your dad that this was a normal occurrence for Aaron and that they’ve both gotten used to it. So many times there would be a gala or a party at the house and he would be called away to chase down a murderer or a rapist or a combination of the two.

You tried not to let it get to you, because seriously, you just met him, but also, it’s not like he owes you anything. But you really hoped that he wouldn’t miss the retreat later that week. Just imagining spending time with him in your lone hotel room was enough to make you dizzy.

So, you distracted yourself. You caught up on your emails, watched those shows that had been piling up in your watch later list, and spent time with your dad at the golf course or whatever else he wanted to do that day. It was nice spending your summer vacation with your dad and catching up on what he does at his boring administrative job and the lack of both of your love lives.

By the time Friday rolled around, there was still nothing but radio silence from Aaron, at least you assumed since your dad hadn’t mentioned him. You almost wish you had asked for his phone number before he left, but it wouldn’t have done you any good to waste a whole week sitting by your cellphone, waiting for a probably dry text from some guy.

A really hot, older guy that definitely has control issues and could toss you around like a ragdoll.

You’re throwing your bag in your car’s backseat and was about to admit defeat, that maybe he really wasn’t going to make it, when a black Range Rover comes skidding down your street and into your driveway.

“There he is,” your dad said in a sing-song voice, sounding about as giddy as you felt.

Your breath catches in your throat when you see him stepping out of his car, because how the hell is it possible for a man to look so attractive doing something so mundane?

And then your eyes nearly bug out because he has his suit jacket hanging from his arm, a duffel bag in the other, and is wearing a white dress shirt so tight that you could see the bulge of his biceps and the softness of his stomach.

“Sorry I’m late,” Aaron says, jogging up to where you and father were. “We just got back a couple hours ago.”

He looks at you then with those pretty brown eyes, looking genuinely apologetic, and the disappointment that you were afraid was going to take a permanent place in your chest gently unravels.

“It’s no problem, Hotch,” your dad waves him off. “We’re still waiting for some of the other guys, so you made it just in time.”

“Great,” Aaron breathes in relief. “I’m going to go change then, I’ll be right back.” His eyes flit towards you again, and you would’ve missed it if you weren’t still staring at him. They’re piercing, undoubtedly beckoning you to follow him, and there’s a hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth.

You feel a rush of excitement shooting through you as you watch him head towards the front door, eyes fixated on his hips. There was no clearer sign than that one, though you try not to roll your eyes fondly at the fact that your dad evidently did not notice as he goes back to playing Tetris with his bags in the trunk.

You wait a couple of minutes, pretending to play on your phone, and then exclaim “Oops, I almost forgot my phone charger! I’m going to run upstairs and get it.”

Your dad just gives an “Okie dokie, sweetie,” and then his phone rings with who you assume is one of his friends you’re waiting for.

You try to not sprint to the front door, instead taking a deep breath and walking in what you hope looks like a normal pace. However, as soon as the front door clicked shut, you run up the stairs, hoping Aaron chose your bathroom rather than the one downstairs.

Not spotting him waiting outside the bathroom, your heart nearly drops out from underneath you, however you notice the closed door and the soft golden light from underneath telling you that you were right.

You were right and maybe you weren’t imagining things. He knew you would listen to his unspoken instructions and follow him. You weren’t a profiler like him, not an expert at studying other people’s body language, but there was nothing fake about the fact that he got hard at your dining room table and you had only known each other for 10 minutes that Sunday.

The click of the door opening disrupts your thoughts. You’re about to grin up at Aaron, say something cute like how you’ve missed him or something more playful like asking why he hasn’t called you.

But you don’t get the chance because you’re suddenly being pressed up against the wall, warm hands on your hips, and Aaron’s soft mouth pressing into yours.

He swallows your gasp, his fingers inching up the hem of your tank top to touch the skin of your waist and kisses the life out of you. His lips are chapped and he tastes fresh, like he had a breath mint on the drive here, and the thought that he had that foresight just for you makes your knees weak.

He kisses you deeply, not even bothering to start gentle like so many other boys have tried before, and it’s overwhelming and not enough at the same time. You’re helpless to kiss back, your body finally catching up, and your hands come up to tangle at the soft strands at the nape of his neck.

He hums against your lips at that, his hands starting to move underneath your shirt to trace the swell of your breasts through your bra. It tickles, and you squirm a little and huff a laugh against his mouth before you can help it.

Before you could apologize and tell him to stop tickling you, his hands press your hips harder against the wall and his lips break away from yours. You attempt to chase him, because you were definitely not done making out, when Aaron tuts at you.

“Behave,” he warns lowly, but he has a full-blown smirk now. His eyes are dark, pupils blown, and his lips red and glistening. He looks so unbearingly sexy when he’s reprimanding you, he just makes it so easy for you to tease him.

“Or what?” You ask, smiling up at him. You watch as his smirk falters, brows furrowing, and something like frustration and exasperation blooms on his face.

“You’re ridiculous,” Aaron breathed, before he’s leaning in and pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down your neck. He scrapes his teeth against the spot where your shoulder and neck meets and your knees actually buckle this time, something like a strangled moan coming out of your mouth and catching you by surprise. “Looks like you do know how to watch that mouth of yours.”

Any snarky comeback you have dies in your throat because you did not expect Aaron to have that kind of dirty mouth on him. Molten heat starts to pool at the bottom of your stomach, between your thighs, as he slips the strap of your tank top down your shoulder to trace your collarbone with his lips.

“Aaron…,” you whisper, letting your hands fall from his nape to grab at his shoulders, trail down to grope at his biceps. The sleek muscle you can feel even through the fabric of his polo that he changed into, tensing and flexing as he pushes at you, sends your mind reeling.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he mutters against your shoulder, his warm breath and the pet name making you feel paralyzed. “Cat got your tongue?”

Your eyes roll back as you feel him biting a mark onto your chest, right underneath your collarbone, the pain and pleasure tingling all the way down to your cunt. You say something unintelligible, brain feeling muddled, because holy shit.

“Hey pumpkin, did your find your charger? We have to get moving!” You hear your dad’s voice from downstairs and barely swallow back a gasp before Aaron’s hand is pressed over your mouth to quiet you. You hate that that does absolutely nothing to help the growing arousal between your thighs.

Aaron’s eyes meet yours. His eyes have gotten impossibly darker, soft hair falling against his forehead. The wild desire and excitement are clear on his face, but he raises his eyebrows at you to signal you to behave before he lifts his palm off your face.

“Coming!” you yell back at him, hoping the strain in your voice isn’t as obvious to him as it is to you.

Aaron hums, something smug playing at his lips. “Maybe later.”

And it’s ridiculous. Aaron Hotchner, stoic Unit Chief of an FBI unit, best friend of your dad, and 20 years older than you just made out with you so hard that your knees buckled and made a joke about making you come?

You huff a laugh, pushing at his shoulder so you can wriggle out of his grip. He lets go immediately, stepping back to give you several feet of space, and you try not to think about how you already miss the heat and weight of his body against yours.

You’re about to run downstairs, an excuse about realizing you already packed your charger on the tip of your tongue, when Aaron is circling his fingers around your wrist. You look back at him curiously, because as much as you want to, there definitely isn’t time for him to ravage you in your bedroom.

He looks much more composed now, more like his professional SSA Aaron Hotchner self, but you catch the way his eyes linger on the way your shorts ride up high and the soft expanse of your thighs. “I’m serious. We’ll finish this later.”

And it’s the way he doesn’t pose it as a question, but rather a guarantee. Like nothing is going to stop him from having his way with you.

The thought of being completely at Aaron’s mercy has you breathless, feeling a flush rise on your face and your pulse between your legs. He has you stunned speechless, because you’ve never been with someone who has made you feel complete and utter want. You look at him now, chest imperceptibly heaving and making that olive green polo tug across the wide expanse of his chest, you realize that he may just ruin other people for you completely.

Your throat clicks when you clear it, and you only feel a little embarrassed when Aaron doesn’t hide his smirk at you. All words have died in your throat, so you nod instead, hoping that he will take that as an answer.

If possible, Aaron looks even more smug at that.

“Good girl.”

-

The drive to the hotel where the retreat is being held is only 2 hours away, which would’ve been perfectly easy, if you weren’t stuck in the car with Aaron.

You were planning on driving your own car with the top down, wind in your hair, and music blasting. You wanted to spend at least part of your summer vacation doing girly summery things, such as driving into the night with your hair whipping your face and feeling the humidity making your tank top stick to your back.

You also thought you would have time to yourself to think about Aaron and what the hell you got yourself into.

Instead, because you can’t tell if the universe loves or hates you, you have to take Aaron’s Range Rover because everyone else’s cars are packed full, and your dad wouldn’t let you drive by yourself. You tried not to show the excitement bloom on your face when your dad told you, but by the pointed look that Aaron gave you, you didn’t do a very good job.

So, it’s just you, Aaron, and the incredibly tangible sexual tension between you.

The first 30 minutes was easy. It took a while for everyone to find the correct route and there was a lengthy discussion over the phone about whether anyone wanted to stop anywhere for any reason. Eventually, you and at least 4 other similarly lavish cars made it onto the highway.

Aaron was silent for most of the phone call, saying that he didn’t have anywhere he wanted to stop at, and was just looking forward to the fancy clawfoot tub the hotel advertised on their website. You threw a glance at him at that, wondering if he was trying to tell you that he wanted to fuck in the bathtub, but nope. His eyes were firmly on the road, both arms on the steering wheel like a responsible adult or whatever.

You weren’t sure how he was able to act like nothing happened—like you weren’t about to let him just fuck you up against the wall in your childhood home, because currently, you felt like you were about to jump out of your skin from the nervous energy thrumming through you.

You fully ogle him now since it’s not like you have anything to hide. Even his side profile is attractive, but at this point you’re not surprised. Everything you’ve been noticing about him has been steadily driving you wild; the sharp cut of his jaw, the faint traces of stubble, and the way his hands are gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white.

You watch the bob of his Adam’s apple as he deadpans “You’re staring.”

You grin at him before you could help it. “It’s not my fault you’re so handsome. They should study you in art classes, maybe you can even get naked for it?”

The snort that comes out of Aaron’s mouth is sudden, and by the way his eyebrows pinch together like he’s thinking hard, he notices as well. “You really are insatiable.”

“You say that like we’ve even done anything yet,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, turning your head to the window to stare at the sun setting. It would be nighttime by the time you got to the hotel, but you’re already sleepy and debating taking a nap while Aaron drives.

You jump when you feel his hand on your thigh, large and warm. You’ve had other men put their hand on your thigh while they drive and it’s nice, maybe even comforting at times, but with Aaron, the action feels darker. It feels more possessive, heated, and just the sight of his huge hand squeezing the flesh of your thigh has you unconsciously squeezing your legs, trapping the tips of his fingers between them.

“Can you behave?” he wondered out loud. “Because you’re not showing me that you can until we get to the hotel.”

The challenge is clear in the deep timbre of his voice, nearly condescending in a way that makes your breath quicken. You vaguely thought about what he had planned for you at the hotel, luckily you had a whole room to yourself since none of your dad’s friends’ daughters wanted to come. You don’t necessarily blame them—you probably wouldn’t have come either if it weren’t for Aaron and the undoubtable promise that you will have the best sex of your life.

And you do want to wait, honestly. But right now, watching the way his biceps flex in the golden light and remembering the way he desperately grabbed at your hips has you rethinking.

So, you give him an innocent smile, reminiscent of the one you gave him earlier this week, and take a hold of his hand to intertwine your fingers together. The action is slightly risky, implying something about your relationship that neither have you discussed. You may be overthinking it, worried that Aaron would think you’re jumping to conclusions, but all of your reservations disappear when Aaron’s hand squeezes yours and brings your joined hands to rest in his lap.

He gives you a soft smile, one you’ve never seen before that makes your chest tighten, and turns his gaze back on the road.

The following 10 minutes are quiet besides the soft roar of the engine and the gentle hum of the radio. The sun setting washes the interior of the car with a warm gold, and you can’t help but notice the way both of your hands, still clasped together, just look so good together. Like you perfectly complemented each other.

You blame it on the fact that you’re starting to get bored when you wiggle your hand to free yourself from Aaron’s grasp to run your fingers along the top of his hands. You trace each knuckle before tracking the visible veins with a light touch, your fingers running up his wrist and to his forearm. The dusting of hair is soothing when you place a firmer hand onto his forearm, gripping it, and your heart thuds in your chest when you notice your thumb and middle finger can’t even touch each other.

He's just so big. His arms, his hands, his shoulders. The way he can so easily overpower you, manhandle you, domineering in a way that makes you want to act out even more just to see what he would do.

He throws you a curious glance when your hand moves up to his bicep, squeezing and feeling.

“Just touching,” you say, and then Aaron’s eyes are back on the road.

The next thing you do is completely spontaneous, out of character for you even, however you know being impulsive is what got you here in the first place.

You place your hand on his crotch.

He doesn’t jump because, of course not. If anything, he was expecting it by the way he just gives you another curious look. Your eyes are instantly drawn to the way his tongue flicks out to wet his lips and the sudden clenching of his jaw.

“Still just touching,” you repeat and turn your focus to your phone with your free hand, leaving your other hand in his lap.

You scroll mindlessly through several different apps for a couple minutes, not even reading anything because you’re too stunned with the fact that Aaron didn’t say anything or remind you to be on your best behavior. Your hand is still precariously placed on his crotch, the seam of his jeans warm against the palm of your hand.

You start scrolling more intently now, reading the entirety of at least every other post, before you start tentatively rubbing your fingers on where you can definitely feel the head of his dick through his pants. Aaron inhales sharply, so quietly you almost don’t hear it, and it’s all the permission you need.

You start pressing more firmly, grabbing him through his jeans to the best of your ability and tracing the line of his slowly hardening cock through the rough material. You grope at him, nearly shamelessly now, and it takes all of your willpower to not throw your phone to the backseat and jump into his lap.

Instead, you place your phone at your feet and turn your body towards him. His back is ramrod straight and his hands are grasping at the steering wheel like his life depends on it. If anyone passing by looked through the window, they would just assume that Aaron was one of those extremely attentive drivers. However, up close, you can see the tense line of his jaw, the way his brows are pinched together, and the way he’s attempting to hide the way he’s starting to breathe heavily through slightly parted lips.

It's intoxicating, and you want more.

Your hand begins to move up his zipper to the top button of his jeans. His eyes dart to you then, craning his neck slightly to look at you but also making sure to keep his eyes on the road, as if the road is even that busy.

“You really can’t listen, can you?”

That condescending tone again makes your brain nearly short-circuit. It’s like a dam breaks because suddenly you’re leaning over the console, making your breasts nearly spill out from your tank top, and you want him in your mouth and coming down your throat if it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. “Can I?”

 “Can you what, sweetheart? Use your words.”

Christ. “Please, can I suck on your cock?”

He hums nonchalantly, as if you can’t see the way he shifts in his seat or the way he’s hurriedly unbuttoning his jeans with one hand. “’Please?’ Looks like you do have some manners.”

And then he’s taking his cock out and you nearly combust on the spot. He’s not fully hard, but you still want nothing more than to feel him on your tongue.

You’re just about to unbuckle your seatbelt to throw yourself into his lap before he stops you by placing his hand over yours.

“Not your mouth, we don’t want other people to know what a dirty girl you are. Use your hands,” he says, nonchalant again in a way that makes your heart race and the ache between your thighs grow.

Although the idea of being caught with your head in his lap and cock down your throat suddenly sounds extremely appealing in a way you’ve never thought of before, you have no choice but to listen and follow his instructions.

You hesitatingly wrap your hand around him, watching in near fascination at the drop of precum that leaks out. He’s big here too, satisfyingly thick and warm in your hand. You move your hand up to smear the wetness around him and then start a steady rhythm of pumping his cock.

A strangled groan comes out of Aaron eventually, and you watch as he attempts to throw his head back in ecstasy while still watching the road with half-lidded eyes. The wide expanse of his pretty throat tempts you, imagining what it would be like to pepper kisses up to his tense jaw to help him relax.

He’s fully hard now, precum steadily leaking out and coating the palm of your hand. You attempt to vary your actions; twisting on the upstroke, squeezing when you’re at the base, or tracing your thumb against the head of his cock. The loud squelching noise makes you feel embarrassed and hot all at the same time, the way it’s drowning out the radio’s music. Your mouth waters as you watch the head of his dick disappear in your fist, wishing you could taste him or see the sheer bliss on his face as he fucks your mouth.

“You couldn’t even wait to get your hands on me, could you?” Aaron murmured, nearly sneering at you. “I bet if I let you, you would let me pull over and fuck you here on the side of the road.”

You swallow nervously, clenching your thighs and trying to ignore the obvious wetness you can feel in your own panties. You squeeze him harder, enthralled by the feeling of his hot flesh against you, and breathlessly whisper “I would.”

He hisses at that, nearly bucking his hips up to follow your hand. “You would let me fuck you anywhere I want.”

It wasn’t a question, but you still feel compelled to answer. “Yes.”

Just then, Aaron’s phone rings from the phone mount on the dashboard. Dread and something awfully similar to delight prickles at the back of your neck when you notice the caller ID being your father. You’re about to retract your hand until Aaron gives you a look out of the corner of your eye, almost like a glare, before his own hand is hot over yours to keep you there.

“Keep going.”

Before you can think of a snarky remark, Aaron swipes at his phone to answer.

“Hotchner.” Nonchalant, casual, as if he doesn’t have his leaking cock in the hands of his best friend’s daughter.

“Hey Hotch, we’re coming up on a great burger joint here in a couple of miles and I wanted to see if you guys were alright with that? I think we lost you.”

You must have been extremely distracted because you’re just now noticing you can’t see your father’s car ahead of you anymore. There are only a few cars on the highway now after finally passing all the city traffic, now driving through a somewhat rural area. You don’t blame yourself after all, because how often do you find yourself giving handjobs to hot older men in their cars?

“I was actually thinking of pulling over at a rest stop, someone’s not feeling well.” Aaron cranes his neck, raising an eyebrow at you.

Even in the darkness of the summer evening and the sparse streetlights bouncing off the dashboard, the pure and primal desire swimming in his eyes is clear and causes a flush to rise to your face.

“Yeah, it must have been lunch,” you attempt to joke, hoping that the rasp in your voice doesn’t give you away. You feel Aaron’s cock twitch in your hand.

Your dad hums through the tinny speakers. “Yeah, you don’t sound so good.”

You notice the car slowing down, not realizing that you were pulling up to a secluded area of a rest stop, right underneath a tree. You glance out the window and take in the fact that the nearest car is over 10 spots away and the closest streetlight is burnt out. You think of the discreet dark color of the car and the tinted windows. Anticipation curls at the bottom of your stomach.

“We’ll let you know when we’re back on the road.” And then Aaron immediately hangs up, parks the car, and leans over the console to kiss you with a hand cradling your cheek.

He cuts to the chase again, kissing you so deeply that your head spins. His mouth is soft but he’s assertive even like this. His hand moves to the back of your neck, taking a hold of you, and your mouth opens in a moan before you can stop yourself, allowing Aaron’s tongue to brush against yours.

When he pulls back, something like a needy whine erupts from your throat. You don’t realize that your hands moved to grasp at his polo, leaving Aaron’s cock free and pressed against his stomach.

“You drive me crazy,” Aaron mutters, brushing a lock of hair behind your head. His gesture and words are impossibly soft, a complete contrast to how he was kissing you, making your breath stutter in your chest.

“You drive me crazy,” you whisper breathily. “Please fuck me?”

He huffs a laugh at that, something you’re slowly starting to become familiar with, and tightens his hold on the back of your neck. There’s nothing soft in his eyes anymore. “Get in the back, now.”

You scramble to get out of the car, legs nearly shaking. The summer humidity is cloying, suffocating, and you rush to open the door to crawl in the backseat.

The seats are just as large and plush as up front, however there’s definitely more foot room that you’re sure Aaron will appreciate. You’re waiting in the middle seat, legs tucked underneath you, as you watch Aaron tuck himself back into his jeans and step out of the car with an air of nonchalance that somehow makes him even more attractive.

When he opens the door to climb into the back, your eyes meet and you suddenly feel frozen to the spot, because he starts to encroach into your space, nearly predatory. There’s a glint in his eyes as he places his hand on your back, lowering you so you’re laying on the seats. You unconsciously spread your legs so he could situate himself between them, and the feeling of his large and warm body between your thighs has you hitching them up on his hips.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been thinking about this,” Aaron murmurs before ducking his head to press his mouth against your jawline, down your neck, and finally finally sucking a mark where your shoulder meets.

You exhale a shaky moan, bringing your hands up to run down his back and feel how wide his shoulders are and how you can feel his muscles tense as he moves. The wet heat of his mouth, his obscenely large hands on your hips, and the way his figure nearly engulfs you is mesmerizing.

He pulls back to take a look at you, thumb coming up to press into the mark he made and putting light pressure against your neck. There’s something wild and possessive in his eyes, his lips parted like he can’t believe what’s happening. “There you go. Now you’ll remember who you belong to.”

It feels like your breath is knocked out of you and replaced with something equally possessive. “Are you going to fuck me or what?”

Something dark passes over his face. “And here I thought you were going to behave.”

Before you could say anything, Aaron is swiftly lifting your tank top up and over your head, throwing it somewhere towards the passenger seat, and groping your tits. He thumbs at your nipples, watching in awe as you arch your back and push your chest further into his hands. The sudden sensation, pleasure zinging up your spine, after being teased for an entire week is dizzying and you want to drown in it.

“You’re so needy for it, aren’t you?” Aaron says, casually, as he pinches at your nipples. You choke on your moan, the initial sting melting into pleasure that makes you feel drunk. “You’re practically begging for my cock.”

“Yes,” you manage to gasp out. Your hands scramble at his shoulders, running up to tangle the soft hairs at the nape of his neck between your fingers. “I need your cock inside me.”

He leans down to suck one of your nipples in his mouth, deft fingers continuing on the other. His mouth is so deliciously wet and hot, expertly licking around you in a way that’s slowly unraveling you, and you shiver when you think about where else his mouth can be of use. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head and you cant your hips up desperately in an effort to gain some sort of friction against the nearly overbearing ache between your thighs.

His hands come down to press your hips down in an effort to make you stop squirming and you feel him shift until his knee is pressing between your legs and against your pussy through your shorts. The feeling of his warm hands on you and the seam of your shorts rubbing against your clit causes an embarrassingly high-pitched whine to escape your throat.

“You’re teasing me,” you pant, tugging at his hair experimentally.

Another raspy groan erupts from Aaron and, if possible, you feel hotter. His mouth detaches from your nipple and you instantly miss the hot heat of his mouth, until he says “And what if I want to taste that pretty little cunt of yours?”

Imagining Aaron pressing open-mouthed kisses against your thighs, breathing hotly against your panties until he’s pressing his tongue against you, smearing even more wetness around until you’re nearly dripping onto the expensive upholstery has you whimpering. Your mind races as you imagine him pulling your panties aside so he can press his soft mouth against you, licking and lapping at your pussy like you’re a five-course meal, sucking on your clit until you’re screaming his name and begging him to stop.

No words come out, mind nearly melted just at the thought of Aaron looking up at you from between your thighs and his mouth on your cunt. Instead, you let out a breathless moan and attempt to grind down against Aaron’s knee, chasing the little stimulation you can get.

Aaron licks his lips as he watches you, eyes dark and predatory. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?” His thumbs briefly traces your hips, and you nearly miss the tender touch, before he’s hooking them into the waistband of your shorts and tugs them down. “But we don’t have time for that, so I’m just going to fuck that needy pussy of yours.”

It took quite a bit of wriggling and Aaron hitting his head against the roof of the car to get your shorts and panties off of you, and you’re about to joke that this was an exercise in of itself, until Aaron is settling back between your legs with his own legs crammed underneath him. You suddenly realize Aaron is still wearing all of his clothes, polo wrinkled and pants hanging loosely at his hips, while you’re completely naked and vulnerable, desperate and needy like he said.

His fingers dance across the soft expanse of your thighs until he presses a finger against you, so close to where you need him. You breathe unsteadily and have to close your eyes, suddenly feeling overwhelmed, when Aaron gently grazes between your folds. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me, honey. Is this all for me?”

You nod rapidly and push your hips down in an effort to tell him to hurry the fuck up.

Aaron tuts at you. “What did I say about using your words?” And then he’s forgoing your clit completely and pressing a thick finger inside.

You gasp, eyes shooting open and meeting his from where he’s watching your face so intently it would’ve been intimidating if you didn’t feel white-hot pleasure take over your body. “Yes, I’m wet, just for you,” you rush out.

He hums, satisfied. “Just for me, right?” He begins thrusting his finger inside of you, and the feeling of being filled and something finally happening has you arching your back against him again, soft whines escaping your mouth before you can help it. The lewd noises from your sopping pussy rings out in the small space of the car, jarring, but it just makes you feel hotter.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble, attempting to rut your hips down to meet his thrusts, steadily growing in pace. Your hand shoots down to take ahold of his forearm, nearly distracted at the veins popping out, when you feel a second finger prodding at you. “Please just fuck me already, I’m ready.”

You watch Aaron’s mouth form what has to be a reprimand, scolding you for being so desperate, but then it closes and forms into something softer even as his gaze is fixated on his thick fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy. He leans in and kisses you before you realize, just a soft press of his lips against yours. When he pulls back, he’s still wearing a faint smile, and tucks a stray strand of your hair behind an ear. It’s all so painstakingly affectionate, you feel at a loss for words again but for a completely different reason you can’t name.

“How can I say no to you?” he mutters, almost to himself, and it shocks you to your core.

He doesn’t wait for a response and pulls out a condom from his back pocket. You watch as he’s about to tear the foil packet open, thoughts turning over and over in your head, before you exclaim “It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”

He pauses and stares at you, serious based off the pinch of his brows. “Are you sure? I don’t mind…”

“I’m sure,” you say, throwing your arms around his neck so you can run your fingers through his hair. And you are absolutely sure, confident, because you know the cherry on top of this whole experience would be feeling his cock spill in your pussy and filling you up. “I want to feel you.”

You watch as he groans, closes his eyes, and leans his forehead against yours, staring at the flutter of his long eyelashes. “You are killing me, sweetheart.”

You let out a breathless laugh. “Are you kidding me? I can say the same for you.”

Because if you thought Aaron looked good wearing a suit in those blurry pictures on Facebook, it doesn’t even compare to how he looks now. His polo tightly stretched over his shoulders, slightly disheveled from where you were grabbing onto him, belt unbuckled and pants hanging deliciously half-open from his hips, and hair tousled, the gel maintaining his professional appearance giving way to make him look younger. He’s so unbelievably hot you almost believe you’re dreaming.

You watch as he pushes his jeans and boxers down enough to where his cock pops out, the head a sympathetic dark red from where he must’ve been achingly hard this entire time. Before you make another attempt to have him in your mouth, he’s pushing in, stretching you deliciously open and making you grip harder at the hair at his nape.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight for me,” Aaron grunts, his hands flying to grasp onto your hips.  

Although you can feel him sink into you, inch by inch, you’re mesmerized by the sharp focus on his face, the pinch in his brow and eyes clenched shut. As if he’s trying not to throw away all abandon and pound into you, and the thought is so intoxicating it makes your head spin.

“Oh my god,” you mumble. He bottoms out, his cock finally pushed all way in your pussy, and he’s much bigger, thicker, than you realized. It feels so, so good—being filled up with his hard cock, his hips pressing against your thighs as they splay out the way you’ve been dreaming of for the past week.

“You okay?” Aaron asks, gentle again, and before you could answer, he’s pulling back and thrusting back into you.

A gasp wretches out of you and your hands scramble at his back, pulling him down because you need him to be closer, need his large body pushing down on you and making you take him.

He lets you, giving you a mockingly sympathetic look, and leans down to press an open-mouthed kiss against your jawline. He starts a steady rhythm then—thrusting in and out of you and knocking the breath out of you. “You’re going to take my fat cock, baby? I know you’ve been begging for it all week; you need it so bad, don’t you?”

Jesus Christ.

Words escape you again, instead, your mouth hangs open as you attempt to nod in response. Even though the car’s AC was blasting, you were covered in sweat and sliding up the seats with every thrust of Aaron’s hips. You definitely weren’t complaining, probably wouldn’t even be able to because sounds you didn’t even know you were capable of making kept coming out of you, eyes nearly permanently rolled back in your head. It felt so good, you didn’t think fucking could ever feel this good, but Aaron continues to exceed expectations.

You hitch your legs up his hips higher and let out a high-pitched whine at the change in angle, hot pleasure zinging up your spine. Aaron grunts, something dark and masculine that makes you preen, and his hips start snapping harder, faster.

“Look at you,” he murmurs lowly right into your ear. “Being fucked so good you can’t even speak.”

He shifts again, hands hooking underneath your thighs and, with your nod, presses your knees to your chest until they’re next to your ears, legs dangling over his shoulders. You wrap your arms around your thighs, holding them in place, and your eyes nearly roll back into your head when Aaron’s cock slides even deeper into your cunt with a wet sound. He feels heavenly, even despite not having touched your clit at all.

He fucks you relentlessly and you think your brain has melted out of your ears because you just take it. The sound of his skin slapping against yours, the litany of groans and praises that fall from his lips, and your nonstop whimpering gasps is heady. You don’t even care if you can’t come just from him rutting into you alone, it feels too fucking good.

He sits back up, not once breaking his brutal pace, and makes unwaveringly intense eye contact with you. “My beautiful girl takes my cock so well, making such pretty noises. I can’t wait to fill this pussy up with my come.”

You really did not expect Aaron to have the dirty mouth he does, but again, you’re not complaining. Instead, you bring one of your arms down to snake between your thighs where you’re absolutely soaked in your combined wetness and sweat to circle your clit. The added stimulation, finally, has your thighs shaking and your pussy clenching around him. You squirm a bit, because his belt buckle has started to dig into you from where his pants are pooling around his knees, but you’re suddenly so close.

“Fuck, Aaron…”

He licks his lips at that, starts to fuck into you faster somehow. He knocks your hand aside to replace with his own and you absolutely mewl when you feel the rough callous of his thumb gently circling your clit, impossibly slow. “Is my good girl going to come? You’re going to come all over my cock, sweetheart?”

Your heart is pounding in your ears, and you can barely detect the strain in Aaron’s voice, like he’s close too. “Yes, yes, please,” you stutter, feeling your gut tighten and sweat breaking out on the back of your neck. “Harder.”

Aaron lets out a shaky laugh. “Since you asked so nicely.”

And then he’s rubbing your clit mercilessly, almost too rough if your nerves weren’t already so close to snapping. You let out a string of strangled whines, your hands coming up to hold onto Aaron’s free arm for dear life. You’re so wet that his fingers just glide over you, the wet noises of him fucking into you getting you hotter, making the coil in your stomach wind tighter, but it’s still not enough.

You watch with half-lidded eyes as Aaron lifts his right hand from where he was definitely leaving bruises on your hip to place at the base of your throat. Your eyes widen but you don’t stop him because the feeling sends your mind spinning, realizing that you have placed so much trust in this man and he’s thoughtful enough to care for you, treasure you, and fuck you so hard he’s definitely ruined you for anyone else.

His eyes are impossibly dark, hair falling into his face, and you meet his gaze unblinkingly as he puts light pressure on your throat. “Come for me.”

You don’t know if it’s the hand on your neck, his cock frantically fucking into you, or the soft baritone of his voice that has you pushing over the edge. You come with a choked gasp of his name, hips and thighs shaking almost uncontrollably. You swear your vision whites out because you don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your fucking life.

You distantly hear Aaron grunt your name, feel him fuck into you desperately and erratically. He lets go of your throat, you secretly already miss the weight of his hand, and he clutches at your hips as he chases his own orgasm. It doesn’t take long for his hips to stutter, coming into you with a guttural moan that sends a shiver down your back. He grinds his hips into you, like he’s making sure he’s giving you every last drop he has, and the thought has you whimpering.

You stay like that as both of you catch your breath. Your thighs and hips are starting to ache uncomfortably, pussy sore in a way where you know you’ll be feeling it tomorrow, but you watch the way Aaron runs his hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes so he can lean in to kiss you, and it’s all worth it.

He pulls out slowly, dick twitching half-way inside of you when you moan at the empty feeling. You feel his come instantly start to drip out of you and onto the seats, and the dangerous glint in Aaron’s eyes has you squirming, heat licking up your back.

“Are you okay?” he asks, leaning over to open the console and hopefully rummage around for a hidden towel. You hope he doesn’t pull out old and scratchy fast-food napkins like the ones you have crammed in your glove compartment.

You laugh breathlessly, slowly dropping your legs down to dangle a bit more comfortably. “More than okay.”

He comes back with a pouch of wet wipes, slightly used, and you’re surprised at the sudden twinge of jealousy you feel when you imagine why he has wet wipes ready in his car and how many other women he’s fucked in his expensive car.

He’s thorough in cleaning you up, chest rapidly rising and falling as he continues to catch his breath. As if he can read your mind, he looks up at you curiously with no trace of the stern persona he had when he was fucking you mindlessly. You had thought you hid your jealousy well, however you find yourself glaring at the wipes in his hand.

He gives you an achingly sweet smile, a surprise dimple making an appearance, and leans over you where you’re still sweating all over his backseat. “Every parent has wet wipes in their car.”

You feel your cheeks heat at being caught, that he somehow knew you were drowning in the sudden onslaught of jealousy clawing up your chest. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” He throws the used wipes on the floor to pick up later, and then he’s wrestling around with you until you’re somehow laying on top of him across the seats, both of your legs bunched up and tangled together.

You’re sticky and sweaty, and Aaron has nearly sweated through his polo, causing it to cling to his chest in a way that has you wanting to put your hands all over him. So, you do, running your palms up and down him so intently that it gets a chuckle out of him.

“All of your clothes are still on.”

“Well, I was a little busy.” Oh, he’s a little cheeky after sex.

Both of you are laying in comfortable silence as you still catch your breaths, Aaron moreso than you, when his phone goes off where it hasn’t moved from the phone mount. The bright light causes you to squint, and you turn to press your face into Aaron’s chest with a whine. “Don’t pick up.”

“Alright, alright,” Aaron says despite him making no moves anyway to get up. He cranes his neck to get a good look at the caller ID and you can feel his body stiffen. “It’s your dad.”

And just like that, a bucket of cold water is splashed over you. You just had sex with your dad’s best friend in his expensive Range Rover in some sketchy rest stop.

You must have froze as well because then Aaron is running a hand up and down your back, making you shiver. He’s trying to comfort you, you know that, but honestly your thoughts immediately melt into other things that rely on his hands on you. Like pushing your head down between his legs. Maybe he’s right and you really are insatiable.

“Come on, let’s get going.”

-

The car ride the rest of the way to the hotel is mostly silent between you two, the only noises being the wind deafening you and your hair slapping into your face since he rolled the windows down.

To air out the stench of sex in the car, you remember.

You would almost think Aaron was mad, the way he didn’t try to make conversation with you, and you knew that you would be spiraling if it wasn’t for the fact that he held your hand in his lap the entire time.  

You probably wouldn’t be much for conversation anyway—you’re already trying not to let your mind race about what you were going to do.

You’re only here for a couple of weeks, you go to school across the country, and technically, this was only supposed to be a summer fling. You don’t technically need to tell your dad about what happened.

You turn to look at Aaron, unabashedly. His hair is still tussled, thanks to your fingers, and there’s sweat beading along his forehead from the summer humidity. You stare at the sharp slope of his nose, the way the lights from the highway reflect in his dark eyes, and you’re suddenly wracked with the feeling of not wanting to let him go.

He squeezes your hand when he notices you staring for too long. He turns to you, most likely seeing the desperation on your face. He misinterprets it, thinking you’re running over what you’re going to tell your father over and over in your head. He has no idea that you want to keep seeing him, that you want to make this work somehow, whatever is between you two.

“We’ll figure it out.”

When you notice his gentle smile, the methodical way he runs his thumb over the back of your hand, you believe him.

[softshuji]

eldest daughter syndrome really do be kicking my ass tbh

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Guess who applied for college??

[hannieehaee]

HOW SWEET

18+ / mdi

summary: after years of an unspoken fight between you and your self-proclaimed enemy, you find yourself forced to work with your life-long rival, kim mingyu, as your father offers him a position at the family bakery. with such forced proximity and endless arguments, how are you supposed to cater to your duties when mingyu's presence brings so much tension to the kitchen?

content: baker!mingyu, enemies to lovers, pining, one sided crush that becomes two sided!, afab reader, smut, teasing, semi public sex (its done in a public establishment but no one is there), breast play, food play (frosting on tits basically), fingering, handjob, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 8.4k

a/n: i know nothing about cooking or about how a bakery runs so please take everything here with a grain of salt and just enjoy it for what it is: self-indulgent smut

masterlist | patreon

Twelve years.

Twelve years dedicating yourself to your craft, attending summer camps, taking elective classes, paying for extracurricular classes, working summers at your dad's place, making all effort known to man, yet this is how it all ended.

Maybe claiming this to be the end was slightly dramatic, but that's how it felt at the moment. As you stared up at your dad and the excuse of a man standing next to him, far too cocky for you to allow your anger yo subside.

Today had been an average day. Throughout your life, you were content to admit that most of your days could be categorized as good, especially after years of having found comfortable employment at your father's renown bakery soon after high school (thank you nepotism). Attending culinary school whilst managing a part-time job at your dad's place had been anything but difficult. It was quite an easy and enjoyable job, one in which you could proudly say you'd had the chance to grow up in.

Your father had owned the place since before you could even walk, building it up to become a favorite in your city. Business was always booming, and it just so happened to fulfill your passion for baking — one which your dad had obviously passed down to you, but you weren't complaining. You occasionally took up shifts during high school, only becoming a full-fledged part-time employee during university, recently graduating and upgrading to full time. Life was good and steady.

So, it was fair to say that most of your days were good.

However, there was the occasional day that was ruined by the mere presence of a particular individual.

You hadn't meant to dislike him as much as you did. Anyone who knew you could vow for your likable personality and charismatic demeanor, meaning it was difficult for you to bump heads with people (at least most of the time). But there was just one particular person who made your blood boil from the day you met him. It had been so long ago, you couldn't date back the moment — nor the instance — in which your dislike had begun brewing. Fortunately, the dislike was completely mutual. You didn't have to feel like an asshole for scowling at the man any time you saw him, because you were usually met by a mirror of your expression or an annoyingly frustrating smirk — similar to in this moment.

The frustrating man in question was none other than Kim Mingyu, the resident heartthrob and well known for his passion and talent for baking. Hatred for the insufferable man aside, his abilities as a baker, and chef in general, could not be denied. The mere implication of praise made you gag, but you liked to think you were mature enough to admit talent when you saw it. This was something you'd never verbalize, however, knowing the man to also be one of the cockiest people you'd ever met.

There were a myriad of reasons as to why your current predicament ruined not only your day, but likely many upcoming ones. The main reason could be boiled down to the smile on Mingyu's face as he stood to your father's side. The cockiness emitting from him was enough to get your blood boiling and to create a carnal desire within you to beat him to a pulp.

The reason for his smile, however, was what truly took the cake.

Within the past moments in which you'd been processing your father's words, you remained silent and stagnant before them, leading your father to repeat the cursed sentence once more.

"Mingyu's going to be working with us from now on," he'd said with an innocent smile on his face, unknowing of your feud with the man in question.

Everything had come crashing down in that moment, but any more silence from you would mean Mingyu won this round, which was something you simply could not have — even under these circumstances.

Shaking all the anger and hateful memories from your head, you straightened your back and morphed a smile onto your face, one good enough for your dad to buy and for Mingyu to be unable to judge. Your hand extended as a courtesy, offering itself to Mingyu as a form of welcome, something which your father likely expected from you.

"In that case, welcome to the team," you spoke for the first time, sweetly enough to grant you a satisfied smile from your father. The poor man was blissfully unaware of your dislike for Mingyu, so no blame really fell on him for his blind decision.

Grasping your hand in his larger one, Mingyu shook hands with you, satisfied smile still on his face, "Looking forward to working with you," he said, far too content for you to not want to take him out back and-

"I know you kids already know each other from back when you were in school, so it should be easy for you to show him the ropes, right, kid?", asked your dad, interrupting your violent thoughts.

Your head whipped to him, "Show him the ropes?"

"Yeah. I was thinking you could train him? He's already an amazing baker, but maybe he should shadow you for a few weeks. You know, just in case," your father clarified.

Mingyu's close-lipped grin grew wider somehow, almost as if the knowledge of your discomfort at being around him overpowered his own dislike of your presence.

"Uh, yeah. Sure, dad," you found yourself agreeing against your will.

Your dad clapped his hands once in satisfaction, then proceeding to patting your back in encouragement as he tended to do.

"Thanks, kid. Well, I'll leave you two to it," he then turned to Mingyu, "Welcome to the team, son. Y/N here will show you where you can get your apron and give you a general overview of the place before your first day tomorrow," and with that, he made his exit.

Behind, he left a fuming you and an overly pleased Mingyu. Silence filled the room for a few moments until you found it vital to curse out the infuriating boy in front of you.

But, as per usual, he beat you to it.

"Happy to see me, cupcake?"

God damnit. You forgot about the annoying nicknames he'd insisted on calling you by since meeting back in high school.

Cupcake, baby, sweetheart, sweetiepie, babe, honey, darling. And these were the more tame ones. You did not want to think about the instances in which he'd called you hot stuff or sexy in public. They'd led to public displays of aggression you weren't exactly proud of.

"I thought you were studying culinary abroad. What happened? Got yourself kicked out?," you grumbled, walking over to the back of the restaurant with him following close by.

"Nope. Just decided my expertise could be used back home. And clearly since you seem to be the best they got around here."

It was as if he was allergic to not bugging the shit out of you.

You turned to face him, blinking harshly at the unexpected proximity before taking a step back and responding to his smirk with a frown, "Listen, Mingyu. You heard my dad. I'm in charge of you. If you disregard my authority, I won't hesitate to send your ass running. Do you understand?"

This made his grin grow bigger for some reason. Knowing he was getting under your skin was great for his entertainment.

"Yes, ma'am," he bit his lip in amusement.

Training Mingyu was entirely unnecessary.

To your disdain, he was actually quite good at what he did. It was as if baking was second nature to him, just something he'd somehow been born with.

And worst of all, everyone else working at your dad's shop seemed to notice this and could never let anyone forget.

Every day there was one or another form of praise for Mingyu. Whether it was regarding his baking or his people skills, Mingyu was practically employee of the month as far as you were concerned — despite having been around for only a week. He was an overachiever as always, and it unfortunately always worked in his favor.

Mingyu, as per usual, basked in on the constant praise. He was a social butterfly at heart. Everywhere he went, he left with at least one new friend.

You were suddenly feeling alienated at your own family's business.

"What's with the sour face, pumpkin?" he nudged your shoulder as he joined you on the counter, needlessly helping you frost some cupcakes.

"You're ruining my life."

Okay, that might've been a tad dramatic.

"I've followed your every rule. I'm literally the perfect employee."

"I meant with your presence."

"Princess, I thought we were done with this whole 'will they, won't they' thing. I think what you're feeling might just be sexual frustration."

You puffed out some hot air in frustration, not bothering to look at him as you continued to do your work.

"Do you think my father would fire me if I strangled one of his employees?"

He pretended to ponder over it with a hum, "There's way more fun things you could do to me with your hands," was what he settled with.

"Is flirting with me your new method of torturing me with your presence?"

"Nope. Just decided to find a new approach to make my interest known."

He'd said it so nonchalantly you'd almost missed it. It made you halt your movements, allowing Mingyu to fully take over on what you were doing.

"What?"

"This can't come as news to you. I've been flirting with you since middle school," he kept up his nonchalance, not even looking at you as his eyes remained glued to the task at hand.

"Flirting? You call being the bane of my existence for the past twelve years 'flirting'?", you gaped at him, regaining your snark back and snatching the half-frosted cupcake from his hand.

"Everyone else sees it," he shrugged, "You just need to catch up."

Then he left, putting his hands on some other part of the kitchen and leaving you to ponder on that.

Was this supposed to be a confession?

It was entirely too cliche — competitors turned enemies due to circumstance, with one of them being hopelessly in love with the other.

God, that was a dramatic way of putting it.

It has been suggested by other people in the past. Onlookers, classmates, friends, you name it. Everyone had at some point suggested that Mingyu might have feelings for you (or you for him). That your rivalry was born out of that dumb cliche. Pulling at a girl's pigtails to get her attention.

Maybe it seemed that way from an outside perspective, but your disdain for Mingyu was genuine, and you were certain the feeling was entirely mutual.

You couldn't imagine the thought of Mingyu actually being in love with anyone, much less you. The guy was far too in love with himself to allow room for anyone else. Plus, all past interest he'd shown in you had been through insulting you and getting in your way. What was he, seven?

This was probably just another way of getting in your nerves. There was no reason for him to suddenly confess, after all. He'd already gotten a job at your dad's bakery — the most renown in town. What else could he possibly be after?

You scoffed at the thought, opting to put it in the back of your mind as you finished off the last few cupcakes and boxed them to prepare them for pickup.

Turning around with the boxed cupcakes in hand, you just so happened to make eye contact with Mingyu as he prepared some dough across the room. His annoyingly short sleeves gave perfect view of his strained arms as he battered at the mixture.

You let your eyes wander to his muscular arms for a mere half second, but that was enough for Mingyu to catch you with a smirk and a wink, flexing a little extra just to piss you off. Your eyes rolled as you looked away, but you were pretty sure you felt yourself flush a bit.

Mingyu's looks had been something you'd always attempted to ignore, but fuck, you suddenly felt all the more aware of them after his stupid confession.

Confession, if you could even call it that.

~

It didn't take you long to entirely disregard Mingyu's mind games. No stupid allusion to a crush would get you out of focus, especially not now.

Upon your return from being away at culinary school, your dad had begun instilling more and more trust in you to take care of the shop. As time passed, he'd occasionally be absent in order to test your skills as a trustworthy employee. You were sure even more responsibilities were to fall on your lap soon, and you were hopeful that was the case. You'd performed well so far, and Mingyu's presence was not going to deter that progress.

That instance, however, had not been the only time in which Mingyu decided to mess with your head. Gone were his boyish attempts at bothering you, the many that you'd gotten used to throughout the years. No, now he'd decided to play nice. He decided he'd be helpful and some sick version of charming that would have any other girl swooning.

But not you. You knew better. You weren't sure what game he was playing at, but you weren't going to fall for it like every other person in his vicinity.

Sure, maybe you looked like a dick to everyone else around you, constantly shooting Mingyu down when he'd try and help you out in the kitchen, but they didn't know about your history together. Mingyu had always made it so that you'd be painted as the mean girl. He'd get in your way, sabotage you, question your skills. But he'd always do it in an ingenious way that left you dumbfounded, looking ungrateful and just plain mean.

So when he suddenly decided to play nice, both for any onlookers and for you, it was difficult for you to actually take him seriously.

But still, you couldn't deny the effect his confession had had on you. You might've disregarded it as a simple play of his, but it still remained in your head, itching at you every time he so much as walked into the bakery.

"Sup, babe. Need help with that frosting?"

Speak of the devil.

Not even facing away in a lone corner of the bakery as you worked on a menial task could he take the hint.

"What are we making?", he tried again, now invading your personal space as he peaked at what your hands were working on.

"Is silence an option?"

"You know I'll just keep bugging you til you answer me. Make it easier for the both of us."

His head was now low enough for his chin to rest on your shoulder. His annoyingly strong arms were resting on the counter in front of you. One of them was conveniently rounding your body as he reclined on the counter. It was a pain to admit even to yourself, but the proximity made you lose focus.

God, what was wrong with you?

You'd always known Mingyu to he attractive. Sue you, okay? But his annoying personality was always in the way of any possible attraction you could've had for him. It wasn't until his stupid, idiotic, unnecessary, unprofessional, annoying, fake confession that you'd begun feeling this way. His constant suggestive stares and proximity were not helping your case either.

"Hmm, you need more strength. The consistency's gonna be all off if you do it like this. Here, let me ..."

Then his hands held onto yours, guiding you as you whisked the butter into a creamy consistency.

You couldn't even react. Your fight or flight reaction failed you, instead choosing to freeze at his touch.

Had you ever touched his hand before?

"See? It's like this. You should just use the electric whisk, that way you don't need all this strength- Oh, shit, am I hurting you?"

He backed off a bit, taking note of your frozen state. Fuck. If he noticed you were actually flustered, you were done for.

"No, just get off me, god," you huffed as a cover.

Mingyu scoffed at this, going back to helping you upon realizing he hadn't actually been doing any more harm than usual.

"You make it kinda hard to be nice sometimes, you know? But that's fine. I'll keep doing it. When you least expect it, you won't even remember hating me anymore," he sounded sure of himself.

Now was your turn to scoff, hands working on the frosting despite Mingyu practically doing all the work for you, "What makes you so sure?"

He took a moment to himself to chuckle.

"You're breaking down. Two weeks ago you never would've let me this close to you," he leaned right into your ear for the next part, "It's nice, isn't it? When you're not in denial?"

That's when you finally pushed him off, huffing at his boldness.

"I'm still your boss. Get your ass out of here and get to work."

That was the best cover you could come up with. He had been right. You'd been letting him get away with more and more as the days passed, and now he was messing with your head.

"Yes, ma'am," he was smirking. Your back was facing him, but you knew him well enough to know.

The job in front of you was practically done. Anything else would be overkill and you knew this, but he'd gotten into your head again. His mere presence had distracted you. Again. And the worst thing of all was that he'd been right. You were wearing down. Becoming more susceptible to his flirtatious advances and even forgetting why you hated him in the first place.

Mingyu had never deliberately hurt you in all those years you'd known him, nor had you him. In reality, it had all been a childish feud you'd grown far too used to to ever let go. But at the same time, giving in to him made you feel weak. You couldn't let some stupid charm break you down so easily.

You had to stay strong, even if that meant embarrassing yourself in front of Mingyu every once in a while.

The next development of your reaction to his shamelessness had been the worst. It made you feel like you were existing outside your body, watching yourself slowly crumble under the extra attention he'd been giving you.

By this point, not only were you constantly flustered at his proximity, but you found yourself affected even when he wasn't around. All it took was a few more suggestive glances and the occasional gracing of skin as a lame excuse to pass by when the kitchen was crowded to get you thinking about him outside of work.

You'd even come to dream of him, waking up at 3AM in a cold sweat, gasping for air at the vivid memories of what'd he'd done in your imagination. Seeing him after such instances made you an even bigger mess in the kitchen. It affected your work at times, causing you to require even more unwarranted help for him, thus being in closer proximity and continuing the endless cycle.

The first time it happened was the worst of all. You hadn't known how to handle it. How to behave around him when your mind was clouded with false memories of a Mingyu that didn't exist. It was your first time embarrassing yourself in front of him. Your usual collected demeanor, able to fire back at him without a second thought, was frozen in place.

You'd avoided him all day, knowing you'd lose focus the moment you met his eyes. The way he'd touched you in that dream was between you and God. Even if you liked to deny it, Mingyu was a smart man. He'd trace that look in your eye right back to dirty thoughts and never let you live it down.

Avoiding him was your only option.

But, of course, that was entirely impossible in such a small kitchen. That, and you were pretty sure god just didn't like you very much.

It was an accident. You had practically ran from him the moment he stepped foot in the bakery. You'd even managed to avoid you must of the day, but when your eyes accidentally met, you freaked out, dropping the batter you'd been making in the process.

It had, of course, caused a huge noise, halting everything else happening in the kitchen as Mingyu rushed to your side. You'd gotten your shoes dirty, with some batter even making it to your legs. It was fortunate you'd been wearing a knee-length dress, or else you would've needed a change of clothes.

Unlike what you'd expected, he didn't mock you. He got attention away from you, picking up after you and taking you to the back in order to help you clean up. You were mortified, knowing that the cause of the mess had been the same boy kneeling in front of you, cleaning you with a few rags he'd taken from the kitchen.

Even your current predicament made you blush. He'd been on his knees in your dream too.

"Are you okay? You haven't said anything all day."

He broke the silence, finally looking up at you as he continued to rub at the leftover batter on your legs.

You looked away immediately. This was not a sight you could handle right now.

"It's nothing."

"Are you sure? I won't make fun of you. You've already given me enough ammunition, but I held back," he joked, "C'mon. Is something bothering you?"

Letting your eyes find him again, you gulped. His furrowed brows told you he meant it, but you were too distracted by everything else about him. He was wearing a very short-sleeved shirt, and his muscles popped a little extra due to their grip on your leg. The world just wasn't on your side today.

"Just distracted today, I guess."

"Oh. Well, can I take advantage of that, then?", he smiled, "I know I'm the one kneeling, but maybe I still have the upper hand."

He got up then, having finished cleaning you up. He then leaned down, hands on his knees to meet your height as you sat down. There was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, almost as if he'd been reading your thoughts from the moment you walked in today.

"Are you distracted enough to say yes if I asked you on a date?", his fangs showed as he smiled.

Your eyes widened.

"What? What are you talking about?"

You didn't even process the words. Your mind was still busy thinking about him on his knees.

"No? Okay, I guess I'll try again tomorrow," one of his hands reached to your own, tracing it with his thumb teasingly before standing to his full height again, "I'll break you down soon enough. I'm sure you're aware of that."

With that, he left, clearly satisfied that he'd somehow numbed you. You weren't sure if that was the result of his usual cockiness, or if you'd been too obvious in your avoidance of him today, but it still made you flush.

He was right. He did have the upper hand.

It'd now been a little over a month since Mingyu had begun working at your father's bakery. It had also been only a month since his confession, which had been accompanied by endless heat on your cheeks and an embarrassing burning in your stomach.

Mingyu's flirting had persevered, with a mixture of subtle physical contact, pet names, longing stares, hell, he'd even caught you in a back hug a few times (his large frame dwarfing you from behind was something you prohibited yourself from thinking about after such instances). It was safe to say that you were now pretty convinced that your original assessment had been wrong.

Mingyu did genuinely like you. And he was not shy in his attempts to make you his.

He'd been nonchalant about it, but he'd asked you out a few times so far. When you'd reject him, he'd only chuckle, biting his lip and eyeing you up and down before leaving with satisfaction in his eyes. It was like your constant rejections kept him going. It was driving you insane.

Knowing someone like Mingyu — tall, handsome, intelligent, accomplished, etc. etc. etc. — was so into you was breaking you down little by little. It was safe to say that your attraction to him had grown with the passing of time. There was just something about his insistence that got to you (that and the yummy packaging he happened to come in).

It was winter at the time, which usually came accompanied by lots and lots of business. Whether it was for winter themed celebrations, or the holidays themselves, you received personalized orders quite often. Sometimes you'd even have to manage all the catering when it came to sweets.

Winter also came with its downsides. Such as sickness going around. The kitchen just so happened to be a place small enough for sickness to spread quite quickly. And it just so happened that most of your staff had fallen ill, including your father, who usually liked to oversee this specific time of the year with a watchful eye.

Down to four people, you'd have to handle most of everything on your own for at least the following week.

And, of course, Mingyu just so happened to be one of those people. That left you with Mingyu, yourself, the delivery boy, and some poor unsuspecting soul who'd have to bare witness to the tension that'd undoubtedly fill the bakery while you and Mingyu were there almost completely alone.

It almost made you feel bad for them.

Almost.

"Well, Lucy called in sick. It's just you and me now," was the first thing Mingyu said upon clocking in, already tying his apron behind his back — always tight enough to show off his godly form.

You had already been freaking out at the consistent decrease in healthy employees. This did not help your nerves at all. You were sure the grimace on your face must've shown it.

"W-what? Lucy's gone? We can't get all this work done with only three people, much less just us!", you felt yourself start to freak out.

Mingyu crossed the threshold of the kitchen then, hands going directly to your shoulders to direct your attention to him.

"Listen. I graduated with honors in culinary school, and so did you. We got this, okay? Your dad trusts you to be in charge for a reason," Mingyu reassured.

For once, there was no flirtation or teasing in his voice, but instead compassion.

Somehow, he managed to calm you down immediately. You almost fell for the care in his eyes and initiated a hug to express your gratitude.

Almost.

Snapping out of it, you took his hands off your shoulders and stepped away, huffing out an awkward 'yea, thanks' before walking over to get your own apron. All you got from Mingyu in response was a chuckle, leading you to believe he'd noticed your flustered state.

Whatever. You had more pressing things to worry about today.

~

Three hours into the day, everything was more calm. You'd gotten over the biggest hurdles of your current orders. There were a total of three large catering orders to fulfill, seeing as you'd closed down the shop due to illness suddenly falling to literally all of your employees.

As of now, you and Mingyu had a pretty good handle on it. You'd managed to work smoothly with each other while you didn't bicker.

Currently you were working separately, you decorating the frosting of a mass amount of cupcakes for a winter wedding while Mingyu stood at the opposing counter and worked on the cake, quietly humming some tune as he did so. It was calm and quiet. Quite odd for the two of you.

Suddenly, you felt a presence next to you. But you remained focused.

"You're kind of slow at this."

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him.

"I could help you," he sing-sang.

"Are you done with the cake already?"

"What can I say? I'm the best at what I do."

"Is this your plan to get me to like you back? Bug me until I break down?", you finally let yourself look to the side, being met with the sight of a very pleased Mingyu.

"Oh, no, I have way better plans for that."

He didn't say anything after that. Not until you felt a huge presence wrap itself around you from behind, once again taking a hold of your hands and beginning to guide your movements as you frosted the cupcakes with their intricate designs. You weren't sure why you let your body be limp and allow him to do as he wished, but you did so anyway.

Your body worked against you, leaning into him as he got closer to you by the second. It wasn't long until his mouth made it close enough to your ear, breath hitting it and resulting in a barely-there shiver.

"See? It's easier when I help you. Not so bad, is it?", he murmured.

You used your shoulder to nudge him away, creating some distance between you and scoffing at his boldness. You shuffled a few steps away, leaving him leaning against nothing as you continued to do your work. Maybe you were weak, but you would not let yourself fall so easily. That'd mean giving him all the power.

"C'mon. You know this isn't one sided. I've seen how you look at me," he chuckled in disbelief.

You continued to give him the cold shoulder while he took a spot next to you on the counter, a smirk on his face as you petulantly ignored him. It was clear to you he was entertained by the concept of chasing you. It was unfortunate that you also kind of enjoyed it.

Mingyu scoot over more and more by the second, not bothering to be subtle at all.

"So you're saying that these past twelve years have been a genuine feud to you? You actually hate me?", he didn't believe the words as he asked him, disbelief in his tone.

"Shut up, Mingyu."

His body fully faced yours now, only able to see your side profile as you continued to stubbornly work, your attempts in ignoring him decreasing by the minute.

"Well, it wasn't like that for me. I always kind of hoped we'd both come back home from college, fresh and new, and completely forget about the stupid games we played when we were kids," he took a few steps forward, "And I know that you want the same thing. Maybe you didn't plan for it to happen, but now you're changing your mind about me. I'm not an idiot. I know you better than you think."

"It's not like that," you finally turned to face him, exasperated, "It's the forced proximity. You're just getting in my head and-"

"Am I?", he cornered you once again, hands stopping your own from their movements.

"Or maybe I've always been in your head," he turned you to face him, completely crowding you against the counter and leaving not an inch of space between you. Your middles were connected and your chest went up and down in such deep breaths that your upper halves were almost touching.

"I think you want me too. And I think you never really hated me. It was all just in your head. Just a sick amount of sexual tension hidden by some stupid rivalry," his hands locked around your wrists, placing them flat on his chest as he dared lean down.

Contrary to the cold, unaffected facade you wanted to present to him, you gulped up at him. He'd been right with the 'sexual tension' bit. It had been bugging at you for days now, invading your time alone and even, on occasion, your dreams. And now that he stood so close to you, acknowledging that much as he stared down at you with full intent on following through with whatever tension was filling the room at the moment ... it had you heating up, to say the least.

But still, that stubborn part of you at the very back of your brain still insisted on attempting to hit the brakes one last time — even if it was the last thing you actually wanted to do.

"Mingyu-"

"You know, you've never actually rejected me. You've told me you hate me, that I'm the bane of your existence, that you hope I get fired, but you've never actually told me to stop," he interrupted, "So. Tell me. Tell me to stop. Tell me that no part of you wants me back and I'll stop."

He looked at you with a mixture of conviction and self-assuredness in his eye. As if he knew what the outcome of his challenge would be.

A few silent seconds passed. Your body was not cooperating with your mind. The former wanted to pull him down, close the distance and damn any work you had left to do. The latter, though, prevented you from even speaking. Your mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out.

Mingyu tilted his head to the side in amusement before putting you out of his misery. One of his hands left the counter where it had been bracketing you against it, coming up to your chin and tilting it upwards, challenging you even further.

"I know you. I know that stubborn brain of yours won't let you admit to defeat. It's one of my favorite things about you," he breathed against you, face close enough that his airy voice landed directly on your lips, "Which is why I'm going to do this for the both of us."

Nowhere in your mind had you ever expected Mingyu to kiss you softly. Up until a month ago, you had never even entertained the thought of it ever actually happening (except maybe once or twice in passing — moments you'd buried deep down due to your burning dislike for him). It didn't come as much of a shock when the first kiss he'd given you was filled with more passion than your body could handle.

Mingyu pressed up against you, with an aggression that suggested any amount of space between you offended him. His hands went to your waist, ensuring there was no escape from this (not that you wanted any). And in a similar fashion, you mimicked the fervor of his kiss, hands already pulling at his hair and earning groans of pleasure vibrating into your mouth.

It was very reminiscent of your relationship. It was a competition. An attempt to show the other who was better, who was in charge.

But as per usual, Mingyu just so happened to get the upper hand.

His lips traveled down to your jaw, finding your neck and leisurely making a home there. Heavy breaths were released by the two of you as you attempted to catch your breaths. Mingyu had started panting out words, but it took your brain a few moments before it could begin processing words after that kiss.

"Fuck ... Can't fucking stand being around you. You drive me insane," he groaned when his hips couldn't help themselves but begin a slow grind against your own.

You still couldn't say anything. Only embarrassing mewls and pathetic excuses for his name would leave your lips as his hands felt you up, the simple movement of his hips already making you lose your mind.

"Made me work so fucking hard for this," his lips found your ear, one had tilting your head to the side so he could bite and the lobe and lick at it teasingly, "But it was all worth it ... Look at you, being so nice and pretty for me."

A sigh left your lips at his whispers. Had your brain been at full function, you would've argued back, would've maybe tried switching your roles and taken charge. But, as embarrassing as it was to admit, turning off your brain and becoming a dumb, brainless version of yourself as he dry humped you to heaven was too enticing to pass up.

His hands made work of both your aprons within seconds, finding comfort under your shirt quickly after. The teasing touch of his cold fingers tracing your skin made your breath hitch, but still no coherent words left you. You continued to be limp against the counter, happy to be sandwiched by him.

"'m just gonna take this off ... Okay, baby? ... Yeah, see? Fuck, so pretty. Show up to work with this pretty thing? Shit ..."

That's how you ended up shirtless in your parents' bakery, a pretty lace number covering your breasts while Mingyu pawed at it with awe. His lips trailed down to your chest, kissing at the bare skin with a starved demeanor. Hands continued to play at your clothed breasts, with your hardened peaks receiving just enough stimulation to have your head falling back.

Mingyu nosed at your skin. His kisses were endless despite the limited skin available. Your mind felt dizzy at such stimulation so close to your nipples. You were aching for more.

Your back arched, pressing your chest closer to his lips and mewling when he took the hint, wrapping his lips around your nipple through the thin fabric of the bralette. Teeth toyed teasingly at you through the cloth, but it still had your eyes fluttering.

Fortunately for you, Mingyu was just as desperate as you for more direct contact, which led him to ripping off the flimsy piece of lace separating him from your breasts. A gasp was all you could do to complain, too distracted to actually scold him for his carelessness when his hands began to teasingly toy at your bare tits, giving you some stimulation, but still not what you were truly aching for.

But as soon as he started, he stopped, pulling an annoyed whine from you.

"Gyu-"

Disregarding you, he reached over to the frosting you'd been working with before he interrupted you. Swiping a few fingers through the cream, he brought his hand forward, causing your eyes to follow it as if entranced.

His movements led you to believe that he wanted you to suck the cream from his hands. Something which made you pulse down south, as embarrassing as it was to admit. But before his fingers reached your awaiting mouth, he redirected them towards his own, humming in exaggerated bliss as he sucked at his own fingers, eyes zeroing down on your face.

Your eyes may have expressed some annoyance, but you both knew you were aching for him.

"Mm, it's good," he hummed, "Wanna try?"

You made it. You knew it was good. But you nodded regardless. You wanted to taste it. Taste him.

He kissed you again, tongue going directly into your mouth and passing any remnants of it from his tongue to yours. Meanwhile, you froze, shirtless, waiting for something, anything else, while he abused your mouth with his tongue.

Embarrassingly enough, you couldn't help but try and suck any sweetness out of his tongue, moaning into his lips as he reacted to you, a slight smirk forming against your face.

"Good, huh?," he smiled satisfied once he pulled away, "But I think it'd taste better if I ..."

Then you felt a sudden coldness on your chest, making you gasp at the cold feeling on your burning skin.

The bastard had smeared frosting on your tits.

Your breath became even heavier than it already was. The falling and rising of your chest said everything your horny brain couldn't muster out. And similarly, Mingyu's breath hitched at the sight, eyes glued directly to your tits with eyes that told you he was pained to not have you in his mouth at this very moment.

So then he remedied that problem.

He started off teasingly, as he always did. His tongue was tentative as it made contact with your cream-battered nipple. The tip of his tongue circled at it, finishing off with what you could only call sheer desperation as he wrapped his mouth around it, suckling at it until nothing was left and refusing to stop there.

One of his hands gripped at your waist harshly, insistent on keeping you folded against him while the other held onto your tit, angling it towards his mouth so he could continue uselessly cleaning it from the mess he'd made. The same happened to your other breast, licking, biting and sucking to the point where you had trouble remaining standing.

"Tastes way better like this," he mumbled with a mouth full of tit.

You'd never seen him like this. So depraved and insistent on making out with your breasts. The usually put-together Mingyu was gone, instead replaced by what embodied the spirit of a hormonal teenager. His groans of pleasure made your head fall back, acting as if he were the one receiving the pleasure. Multiple times he went back for more cream, teasing your nipples with his fingers as he smeared it on you before continuing to clean it up with his tongue.

"Fuck. Thought about doing this so many times. All the dirty, depraved things I've been wanting to do to you in this kitchen," he sighed once he took a break, puffing out a warm breath against the abused skin.

Your head was fully empty by now. There was nothing but hot air swimming up there. Mingyu had made you a useless version of yourself, uncaring about the poise you were supposed to display in your workplace and only wanting to offer yourself up to him to do whatever he wanted.

His lips trailed their way up, hands replacing where his lips had just been, and reconnected your mouths, humming in pleasure at touching you. His hips began moving with yours, forcing you against the counter while your tongues squelched with one another.

"Wanna fuck you. Do you think your dad'll fire me if I fuck you in here?"

"Don't care," you huffed, hands going to his jeans and haphazardly undoing the belt, "I'll fire you if you don't."

He chuckled mid kiss, "Don't worry, pretty. I'll fuck you. We're going to have to work overtime cleaning up from all the dirty things I'm going to do to you."

Aiding you in the removal of his pants, he lowered them just enough to pull his dick out of his boxers, groaning when you took hold of it and began playing with it. The size had your eyes rolling. You'd always assumed, on lonely nights under your sheets, that Mingyu would be well endowed. He was a perfect 10 in every other area of his life, so of course he'd have a big dick. But knowing that the monster you were currently holding in your hand — not even able to circle your entire hand around it — would be breaking its way inside you made you shudder.

In retaliation to your touches, he did the same to you, forcing your pants down to get easy access to your wetness and groaning when he found a mess under your panties.

"This wet, baby? Just kissed you a little and you're this wet for me? I thought you hated me," he gave you a cocky look as his knuckle pressed onto your clit, adding some pressure as he circled it.

You gasped out your response, calling him a dick and squeezing at his tip to get him to shut up.

He must've either taken the hint or taken it as a challenge, opting to readjust his hand so he could push in two fingers, managing to push you onto the counter whilst finger fucking you. The speed of his fingers was precise, hammering in and out of you and curling at the perfect time, hitting that one specific spot inside you that made your voice go a few notes higher.

You couldn't form any words, barely able to keep working him in your hand either. You were completely lost to the pleasure, especially when his mouth climbed back down and went back to your overly sensitive tits. They were swollen and completely abused with spit, but his attention was still more than welcomed.

"Need you to cum before you take me, okay, pretty?," his request was muffled against your breast.

"Want it now," you whined, hips uselessly grinding into his hand.

"Shh. You'll have it, pretty girl. Just, fuck, need you to cum for me just this once, okay? I'll give it to you, I promise. I'll give it to you and never stop," it was easy for Mingyu to lose himself in his dirty talk, but you adored every word that left his lips. He could threaten you with pleasure all he wanted, you'd take it the same way you'd taken all his snark against you all these years.

When he introduced another finger to the mess between your legs, you finally came. You were sure the sight was as messy as it felt, your body arching impossibly closer to the source of pleasure, head thrown back and internment gasps leaving your lips. Your fingers dug into his muscles, unsure of when you'd clawed his shirt off but thankful for the access to his skin.

You were welcomed back to reality by uncharacteristically soft kisses pressed to your neck, moving their way up to your cheeks and then your lips, ending with a pleased hum.

Your eyes finally opened, taking in the boy in front of you, practically fully nude and with his skin now full of scratch marks (courtesy of you), skin sweaty and hair an after-sex mess.

"Fuck, you're so fucking hot."

He chuckled at your bluntness, eyebrows raising in amusement.

"Yeah, pretty. I think you're pretty hot too. Always thought so. Prettiest girl I've ever seen," he managed to turn it into something soft despite the shared knowledge that his aching cock was currently pressed against your thigh.

"You'll fuck me now, right?", you put your arms on his shoulders, pulling him towards you with seduction in your eyes.

"Y-yeah, I- shit, yeah, baby."

Scooting to the edge of the counter, you wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him as close as physically possible before reaching down to his hardness. His arms held onto your legs, pulling you towards him and angling your hips so your cunt could face him better.

Deciding to be a tease this time around, you held onto his dick, circling his tip around your clit and sighing at the hot, wet stimulation, earning a similar reaction from him.

"Hmm, fuck. Put it in before I lose my mind."

That was good enough for you.

It took a few moments to get his torturously big length inside you, earning constant cries from you followed by grumbles from Mingyu. He buried his head in your neck, suckling at your skin any time you pulsed a little harder as he intruded inside you.

"Warmest fucking cunt, god," he sighed, "Been wanting to feel you since high school ... Prettiest cunt, oh, fuck. Can I move? Hm? Need to move, baby, tell me I can."

This was the first time you'd ever heard Mingyu beg. And as much as you wanted to bask in it, maybe get him on his knees, pleading to get his fill of you, you were far too gone to do anything more than whine at him to move, to break you and render you useless.

Your mouth dropped open when he began hammering at you, hands wrapped around your thighs and pulling you as close as possibly. His inhuman strength managed to move your body in sync with his thrusts, doing all the work himself as you became a limp doll for him to use. All you provided were cries of his names and red lines drawn down his back. But he seemed to enjoy it. Each scratch, each squeal of his name was met with groans and with an extra harsh thrust into you.

"G-gyu, fuck, just like that. Oh, fuck, please," you had no idea what you were pleading for, but you needed more.

You'd never felt this needy. Never felt such a carnal necessity for a man like you did for Mingyu. It felt like a full circle moment. Your disdain for Mingyu had left you weeks ago, replaced by a sheer thirst for him, but not only sexually. Even as he humped into you, you felt an sense of completeness from being in his hold.

And then, before you knew it, your second orgasm consumed you, causing you to tighten around him and earning an uncharacteristically high cry from him. His hips sped up, desperate to reach his own high, hands practically pulling you off the counter to push your hips against his own. The repetitive slapping of skin was loud and resonated into the empty room.

"Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna get you all pretty and creamy for me," he huffed out between breaths, "Wanna see me dripping down your legs before I clean it all up for you."

And he fulfilled his promise, squirting his cum deep inside you with a groan of your name. Once finished, he finally deflated against you, loud as he attempted to regain his breath back.

There was some silence for a while. Maybe because you both needed time to learn how to breathe again, or maybe because you were both still in shock at the intensity of what'd just happened. Regardless, you held onto each other, uncaring that you were still very much naked in what was supposed to be a public place, creating a safety hazard in your workplace.

"Well, that was ..."

"Yeah," you agreed.

He pulled his head away from your neck, offering you a bashful smile. His hands stayed on you, though, caressing at your skin with a contrasting softness.

"Does this mean you'll go on a date with me, or am I fired for jumping you in the kitchen?"

You laughed, genuinely so. This was probably one of the very rare times in which you did so in front of Mingyu, but you meant it. No longer did you feel like scowling at his presence.

You realized now that his feelings had been mutual. Too many half-baked inferences to his feelings were had in the throes of passion for you to question it anymore.

And maybe the feeling was mutual.

"Yes, Mingyu. I'll let you take me on a date."

to read short 2k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, mentions of previous semi-public sex, nipple play (m receiving), dry humping, penetrative sex, mentions of blowjob, food play (frosting), etc.

wc: 426 (teaser); 2007 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"I'm very proud of the work the two of you did last week," your dad began, "The workload was too big for two people, but you two managed to get it done. Great job."

When your dad had called you and Mingyu over for a private meeting after last week's events, you had to admit, you were terrified.

After that first day alone playing around in the kitchen and wasting perfectly useful frosting in activities you could never reveal to your father, you ended up having to work the entire rest of the week alone with Mingyu. And it was safe to say that the events of that first day repeated time and time again. The two of you made use of the empty space, disregarding any possible health violations.

Fortunately, your fears of your father possibly finding you out were alleviated by his sudden praise.

You had to agree. It was surprising that you and Mingyu had been able to get all that work done. Not only due to the impossible amount of work, but also because of the constant distractions you provided for the other.

Standing next to you, you could feel Mingyu's enormous sigh of relief at your father's words. Before making your way into his office, the poor boy's tanned skin had gone pale at the paranoia of what was to come.

"Maybe when this one takes over for me, you could he her second in command," he turned to Mingyu with a smile, "The two of you make a great team. And for your hard work, I'd like to give you the day off. Full pay, and you can also take one of the leftovers cakes from last night."

Before you could respond with wonder, your dad spoke up again.

"Here. Take my car keys. You kids go have fun," he patted your back as he walked away, leaving the two of you in his office as he went back to the bustling kitchen.

The two of you stood there, not having expected such sudden reward. It had only been one day since everyone came back to work, joining you and Mingyu with the heavy workload that always accompanied winter, yet you were suddenly being offered time off and free pastries.

"I think your dad wants us to have se-"

"Don't finish that sentence," you slapped at his chest, earning a wince.

"I mean. A car, money, cake? Do you remember what we did last time we had cake at our disposition? I ate it off of your-"

"Mingyu!"

"Okay, fine!"

...

find the 18+ continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[simpjaes]

PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM (l.hs)

You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off. 

៸៸៸ minors do not interact!

៸៸៸ simp gamer ! lee heeseung x afab reader 

 ៸៸៸ wc: 30k

 ៸៸៸ tags: smut, sister’s boyfriend trope, exhibitionism and voyeurism, dom heeseung, he is also unemployed lol, gaming antics, discord streaming, sexting, sex bets, shameless behavior, food mentions, alcohol use, implied sickness due to said alcohol, jake, sunghoon, and jay as the gamer friends who have a bet going. also the guys who get to watch….kind of. 

 ៸៸៸ !WARNINGS!: cheating/infidelity, dubcon-ish at one instance, heeseung is mean and manipulative. instances where jake, jay, and sunghoon take advantage of a situation where reader is drunk (conversation based), the reader can be lifted, visibly marked, has hair that can have fingers ran through it, and blushes visibly.

 ៸៸៸ a/n: this fic was written for heeseung's gf @drunkhazed! i really loved the idea, as you can see, i kind of went crazy with it. i hope it lives up to your imagination but maybe not idk. you better love it anyway oomfie, bc i loved writing it for u. this fic was briefly edited but likely still has a million typos and grammar errors.

៸៸៸ nsfw tags below

៸៸៸ nsfw tags: 10” heeseung, dubcon-ish at one instance,  masturbation, pillow humping, cum eating, degradation, hentai watching, sexting, sex on camera, blow job, voyeurism, exhibitionism, deep penetration, cream pie, breeding, blood and spit, one mention of piss but no actual piss (form of degradation), fingers down your throat.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Walking into an empty room has never felt so freeing, especially in knowing this is your space. Safe from your parents, bare and ready to be adorned with all of the things you hold dear to you. What’s even better? It’s bigger than your room back home, and you even have a little attached bathroom of your own. 

Life is great. You think studying here will ease your mind and allow you to graduate top of your class by the time it’s all over and done with. If you could kiss your sister, you would, really. 

You remember being kids and the two of you promising that when you grow up, you’d live together and never grow apart. After actually growing up though, she finished her degree and went off on her own, leaving you by yourself with no one to get you through the hardships of becoming a college student yourself.

With her working full time for several years and you struggling your own way to the top, she really did follow through with that young childhood promise. 

“Why don’t you come live with me through college? I’m sure it would be easier than living with all those rules.” 

You didn’t even think twice and had your bags packed a single day after the invitation. You stayed up all night getting it done, emptying your childhood room filled with both good and bad memories. Alas, you did have to wait until the spring semester was over though. Thankfully, you were only sleeping in a packed up room for about a week.

You find yourself here now, with your sister lovingly making lunch in the kitchen while her boyfriend, who you have only met briefly at holiday gatherings, stays in the office-turned-gaming room hooting and howling over some game he’s playing.

“Don’t mind him.” She half-smiles when he doesn’t immediately head for the kitchen, making her own plate and moving to the table with a sense of annoyance. “He’ll be out in a bit, it’s a pretty normal occurrence.” 

“You don’t think it’s rude?” You furrow your brows now, automatically assuming that your sister deserves a man willing to work just as much as she does. Still, you don’t entirely mind that you weren’t forced into an official meeting of the man of the house first thing when you walked in.

“Nah, not really. Been dating him for years, I knew what I signed up for when I moved him in.” She smiles while shaking her head, seemingly accepting all of his positives and negatives.

“Does he not have a job?” You pry, picking at your plate and trying to memorize his actual name because for a little while, you really started to wonder if his name was just a variation of “honey” and “babe”. Thankfully not. 

“He’s looking for one.” She says, looking at you and trying to read your judgment. “Before you say anything, he has money. Or–well, his parent’s have money. They pay his half of the rent right now.”

You shrug, noting that she really does seem happy and you’d be the best person to judge her level of fulfillment outside of herself anyway. You trust that she picked the right man, even if he’s still screaming in the other room with an empty stomach. 

“By the way…” She says with a wicked smile, one that you remember growing up with. The other end of that smile always ends with some sort of…antic. “We’re throwing you a welcome party this weekend. Inviting all of our friends too, so it’s easier for you to start being social on this side of town.”

You would groan, but growing up in your childhood home with your parents never came with parties. No birthdays at home, no sleepovers, nothing. Hell, they wouldn’t even allow you to attend other parties as a child, and going to college parties was out of the question.

The only party you ever attended was during the time you snuck out. They made damn sure you never snuck out again after that mishap as well. 

“Oh, really?” You chew and speak at the same time, not minding your manners at all considering you can get away with it now. “Is there gonna be alcohol?” 

“Oh, yes, yes.” She smiles again. “Gonna give you a proper party since, you know.”

You nod to her and you both laugh together at the found freedom you share, and then, well, the king of screaming like a toddler walks in. His hair looks like shit, an indent at the top of the messy locks indicating that he must have had his headset on for a long fucking time. Loose shirt with the sleeves pushed up, eyes sleepy and red, probably burning from the sunlight coming through the windows, and some sort of smile on his face. He looks at his girlfriend with that tired smile, about to thank her for the meal, then his eyes trail to you.

“Oh fuck–” His hands raise to run his fingers through his hair, then both rest on the back of his neck as he lets out a big sigh. “Was that today?” 

You give him the side eye of all side eyes at this moment. Reminding yourself how you and your sister spent all morning hauling your stuff in without his help. She also did say he would have put together your desk, dresser, shelf, and bed frame by the time you got here. Well, he didn’t.

“Yep.” She pops the p on the end of her word indicating passive aggressive annoyance. 

“Shit.” He mumbles under his breath, placing his empty plate right back into the cupboard and making his way to your room. “I’ll do it now. I’m sorry babe.” 

Your sister nods triumphantly, watching your look of surprise in reaction to the way he instantly appears to fix his mistake without more than a single word from her. 

“He knows when he fucks up. He was supposed to do it yesterday but as you can see, he hasn’t left his PC since like, nine o’ clock last night.” She shrugs.

You laugh, furrowing your brow at her. 

“I really didn’t expect him to be so lazy, sis, I always figured you’d be dating a doctor or something.” 

She brushes off her shoulders with a proud look, leaning towards you with a smile. 

“He was working a really good job but I could see how unhappy he was. I’m giving him a year or two to figure himself out. He’s been back and forth trying new things, hasn’t quite landed on anything he likes yet though.” 

She is a fucking saint. Honestly, Heeseung might be the luckiest man in the world to have a woman willing to do such a thing for him. 

“Woah,” You start, taking a sip of your water. “He’s trying to make it as a streamer right now, I take it?”

She shakes her head with an eye roll.

“Not really, he’s just always spent as much free time as possible playing but, I trust that he’ll figure something out sooner rather than later.” 

And you pry for a while longer. Learning about all of the things your sister and Heeseung do together, learning about her friends and his friends, the rules of the house, and the not-rules of the house. For instance, you’re allowed to bring home hook-ups or dates if you give a fair warning so she doesn’t have to hear it. However, the food in the fridge is for the house occupants only, and people need to ask before opening the cupboards and filling their plates. Of course, unless there is a party. 

Another rule, which was a bit too much information but you figure it’s fair since everyone here is an adult. She and Heeseung apparently have a pretty active sex life and apologized in advance for some of the things you may end up hearing. She also noted that there will be ear plugs if you need them, but that she suggests throwing on some headphones and ignoring it. Fair enough, it’s her house anyway. 

And after a few hours pass, Heeseung makes his way out of your room with a smile on his face. You remember seeing him maybe two or three times during the holidays but he never mingled with you. He never mingled with anyone, actually. He tended to keep to himself, with his loose fitting outfits always sticking out in the awkward family photos that your sister would sneak him into. That’s all you can really recall about him. 

It is kind of strange seeing him in his natural habitat of your sister’s house. Already, you’ve seen more personality in him than you ever did during the brief meetings. It’s kind of nice to see him proudly nodding his head to your bedroom as if to invite you in properly like he should have done hours ago when you arrived. He took it upon himself to rearrange the room for maximum space. Arguably, you’re impressed. 

“I unpacked some of your things too.” He comments as he hugs your sister from behind in the doorway. “Needed to make sure the dresser drawers wouldn’t cave in.” 

Your eyes trail to the pretty dresser, painted white with even prettier trim on it. It’s the first time you’ve ever had a matching bedroom set. You head over and take a peek in the drawers, noting that he didn’t just haphazardly throw your clothes in there. 

Top drawer, all of your undergarments are fucking folded. Second drawer, socks, tights, and leggings, third drawer, soft pajama sets also folded. And the fourth drawer remains empty.

You turn to look at him, embarrassed by the fact that he took it upon himself to do that. You can’t see a single shred of embarrassment in his own face though, and it appears he really was just being nice. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. I do the laundry here so I’ll be folding those more often than you’d think.” He smiles, and your sister lends a chuckle. 

“He’s gotta do something while I’m making most of the money.” She shrugs, totally fine with the fact that her boyfriend just handled every piece of underwear you own save for the ones you’re wearing. 

“Closet too, hung up what I could but I’m like, really hungry so I figured I could leave the rest to you.” 

You nod in appreciation, in awe of your new room and the soft, plush carpet on your floor. Your old room was hard wood with dust filled corners, it felt cold. Here though? You feel welcomed, warm, and cozy. 

Hundreds of ideas flood your mind about how you want to decorate the room and as you go to start unpacking your miscellaneous items, your sister nods and backs out of the room with her boyfriend still hugging her from behind. 

There, you’re left to your own devices. 

Another thought crosses your mind when you hear the door close as well. The fact that you haven’t had a door to close for your bedroom since you snuck out all those years ago. The sound felt like music to your ears as you found yourself falling back on the bare mattress with a deep and relieved sigh. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

With all of the unpacking, wall art compositions, and napping in between, the week flew by quicker than you anticipated.

Waking up today, at half past two in the afternoon felt so good. Your duvet felt crispy, your room was completed and finally your own, and it felt safe. You could smell the breakfast cooking in the kitchen, and your sister’s voice paired with Heeseung ringing fondly at each other. 

Little bit strange that you didn’t wake up to silence in the house, considering Heeseung is usually just now heading to sleep with that fucked up sleep schedule and your sister is normally lounging in the living room with a snack, iced coffee, and watching her favorite reality shows. Save for when she’s at work all day, of course.

Still, you slowly pull yourself out of bed feeling happy and refreshed, stepping into your attached bathroom to do your morning routine before exiting the room, and then heading into the kitchen with a small “good morning.”

“It’s nearly three in the afternoon.” Your sister smiles at you. “But good morning to you too sis.”

Heeseung, seemingly dressed for the day with a band tee and a beanie on, lends you a glance and a wave as he swings back and forth in the kitchen, mixing pancake batter in a bowl for your sister and unaware of the speckle of said batter stuck in a strand of his hair. 

You lean over your sister’s shoulder after waving back to him, noting how she’s making little bite-sized pieces of pancake. Ah, this is the life, really. 

“Well? Don’t just stand there? Pour some juice or something. We need a big meal before tonight.” Your sister laughs at your sleepy content hum from behind her, noting how you act much like she did when she first got out of the childhood home. 

You take a step back, eyeing the room, trying to put the puzzle pieces together as to why Heeseung is awake and dressed and why she’s making a big meal to begin with. Both your sister and Heeseung note the confusion on your face. 

“Ah, she forgot.” He rumbles with a smirk, not keeping his eyes on you for too long as his focus falls back to mixing. 

“Did you really forget?” Your sister rolls her eyes with a spatula in hand, turning to you and putting her other hand on her hip. “Everyone seems excited to meet you, they’ll probably start pouring in around six or seven tonight.”

“Oh, right! The party!” You exclaim, shocked that you really did forget about it. With your sister’s promise of alcohol, you assume that explains the large breakfast, and also probably why Heeseung doesn’t look like a total slob.

“Yeah, the party.” Heeseung snickers, his back turned away from you but overall acting as if you’ve already lived here for months. Throwing the same sarcasm at you that your sister does. 

“Now go pour some juice, we have to go to the store after this and pick out drinks.” Your sister finally says, turning back to flip the pancakes in the pan. “You have drank since I moved out, right? You never wanted to try anything with me back then.”

You reluctantly nod your head, and your sister gasps fondly.

“Someone got into the liquor cabinet?” 

You nod with a laugh, knowing that you learned how to do it from her despite always being too chicken as a teenager to do it with her. The curiosity of being drunk didn’t outweigh the fear of being caught at all for you, at the time anyway. 

“Sunghoon is usually the one babysitting us, so no need to worry about pacing yourself.”  Heeseung comments along with his sneaky side eye at you. 

You don’t notice him do it at all, and even if you did you’d just assume it’s a passing glance. After all, you did open the fridge a little too hard.

“Sunghoon?” You ask. 

“One of my friends,” He raises his hand to his hair to try and shake out the now, obvious, speckle of batter that’s starting to dry in the strands. “By the way, when you go to bed tonight– make sure you lock your door.” He continues, turning around now and leaning against the counter just to watch you lift on your toes for some of the cups in the cabinet. 

His eyes watch the way you lift, your calf muscles flexing, your back arching slightly as you try to reach…And, well, he’s acting much like any man would, if he’s being honest, but ultimately he keeps his eyes to himself when your sister is turned or looking at him. 

“Noted.” You nod without paying much attention, pouring the drinks and now moving the filled glasses to the table.

You make brief eye contact with him, noting how he’s already looking at you while your sister is simply listening, facing the other way and mostly just focused on not burning the pancakes.

“I’m serious. Lock your door.” He repeats, scanning your body and judging just how dangerous it is for you to be living here. 

Mostly because he’s always found you quite cute, and he’s very aware that his friends probably will too. Hell, he’s already crossed a line with you since day one of you living here, he’s shocked you haven’t yet picked up on it, and knows very well that his friends will make moves instantly if you give them a chance. And with all things considered, you seem a bit too unaware of how attractive you are. 

“Hm?” You raise a brow as you make your way back to the kitchen. “I was going to, but now you’re making it sound important.”

“Well,” Your sister chimes in, stepping back once and holding out her hand. Heeseung is quick adjust his eyes, handing the fresh bowl of batter to her with a kiss to her cheek as if he wasn’t just eye fucking you. “All of them are single, and you’re just about as good looking as I am.” She laughs half-heartedly. 

She’s not trying to have an ego, but it’s best to warn you now at least. It’s not that she thinks she’s hot or anything, but she knows they think she is. And if that’s the case, they’re gonna be drooling over the younger, more single, version of herself. 

Heeseung rolls his eyes now though, leaning back against the counter and scanning you again the second your sister has her back turned. This time more blatantly. Eyes landing on the curve of your hips to the length of your legs. 

“Yeah.” He says, sucking in a breath with a half lidded gaze, letting his eyes trail down. “I’ll try to keep them at bay, though.” 

For Heeseung, there is nothing wrong with looking. For you? You feel very seen by him and it’s kind of throwing you for a loop. Your appearance becomes the main point of conversation and it makes you want to kind of leave the kitchen. 

“I doubt that’ll be an issue.” You try to laugh it off. 

“No, seriously.” Your sister says, turning to look at you briefly to give you a serious expression. “Back when I first met Heeseung, all four of them were after me. I swear, they’re more than just competitive with their games.” 

“I always win though.” Heeseung nods triumphantly, now keeping his eyes to himself and focusing more on his girlfriend.

“That, you do.” She boasts for him, leaning back after moving the pancakes to a plate and landing a kiss on his lips. 

You study how they move together. So in sync, not stepping on each other’s toes, ultimately moving in harmony. Likes it natural to them. She really does look happy, and he just looks like a guy who doesn’t know where to land his gaze. 

A normal guy, you think, who was given the same freedom your sister gives to you. It really is just who she is to take care of people, and the harsh judgment you originally had about Heeseung kind of fades a little bit as you watch them. 

You try not to study him too much though because damn, your sister knows how to pick them in terms of like, scale of attractiveness. Heeseung is the type of guy the two of you would giggle over at the mall. The type you’d silently bicker over from behind a store rack of jackets, or perhaps even fantasize about during a long and boring tv show with your parents. 

It’s not strange to find him attractive, because, well, he is. But you know your place here, and you’ve grown up to the point to know that you can appreciate a person’s looks and not need anything from them at the end of the day. 

However, you kind of hope his friends are at the same level as him. For one, to avoid having a secret crush on Heeseung, because who wouldn’t? And secondly, they’re single, just like you. 

Apparently they’re also a threat to the “innocence” both your sister and Heeseung seem to want to protect within you. 

“I’ll lock my door.” You say finally, receiving a happy nod from both of them as they continue their cooking and you make your way to the table. 

And while you do plan to lock your door, you also plan to take your time in getting dressed for the party. You kind of do want to be pounced at, or at least, feel the freedom of knowing you can look however you want without your parents forcing you into the ugliest outfit known to man. You know how to dress yourself, you’ve just never quite been allowed to do it. All those sneaky clothes your sister bought for you can finally come in handy. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When your sister mentioned throwing you a welcome party, you expected a gathering of friends standing around awkwardly sipping wine coolers. What you didn’t expect was for there to be mood lighting, music, an array of nicely dressed people, and a large gaming set up in the living room where the big screen television was muted and a maximum of eight at a time could go head to head on super smash bros. 

You found yourself enjoying it more and more as the night went on and you became more comfortable being greeted by strangers. Each drink you were handed mostly came from your sister, but by the time she stopped making her own drinks and began to drink whatever the hell-mix her friends were giving to her, Heeseung was the one handing you drinks. 

“Come here–” Heeseung says over the blaring music, still floored by how good you look now versus how good you looked this morning. To him, the drinks he’s having paired with you running around looking like this? It’s even more dangerous than he thought as he continuously finds himself staring, and finds you seemingly still unaware of it. 

 “I’ll show you how to mix this one.”

Your sister was off somewhere in the house with her group of pretty friends, and you’ve really only briefly met everyone as they walked in the door. The drinks in your system make you want to actually mingle though. Everyone else is mingling, everyone else looks comfortable and happy to enjoy the party. It drives you to feel the same.

You nod to Heeseung with warmth in your cheeks, noting that he looks about as tipsy as you do when he stumbles his way back into the brightly lit kitchen with you. Your eyes burn at the light, as do his, and he groans at it before opening the fridge and pulling out the cranberry juice. 

“Your sister said you’ve probably only chugged from a bottle, so I opted to give you the easiest drink to make.” He explains in a slight slur, setting the juice on the counter and ultimately knocking it with his elbow when he turns to grab the vodka bottle. “Cranberry juice and vodka.”

You feel endeared by his genuine smile and embarrassed laugh at the way he knocked over the juice, watching him in his own element and comfort zone. It makes you feel a little guilty that he’s been the one making your drinks, only because your sister must have asked him to by the time she got too drunk. 

Heeseung seems to do just about everything she asks of him, and while you’re thankful, you feel a little bad that he’d probably rather be in the other room with his friends rather than trapped in this empty and terribly lit kitchen teaching you how to make a fucking mixed drink. 

“I put about–” He starts, grabbing your cup and pouring it half full with vodka. “this much into yours.”

In your own state, it’s not like you’d know what’s too much or what’s too little to put into a drink, but so far everything he’s handed to you tasted good. So, you nod at him, attempting to focus in on the cup.

“And this much juice.” He continues, now pouring not enough juice into the vodka.

From this angle, watching him from behind, you pause for a moment in your tipsy brain. Distracted by the way his shoulders flex when he’s grabbing that big ass bottle of juice, but you’re quick to tear your eyes away. He’s just a nice looking guy, dressed up for the first time since you moved in, you can’t fucking help it. Surely your sister would understand if she ever caught you checking him out, right?

“Then just stir it.” He adds now, turning to face you and dipping two fingers deep into the liquid of your cup, swirling them, then handing you the drink. 

He sucks the remaining mixture off of his fingers in a blatant show of his interest that you’re still far too aloof to pick up, watching you pretend he didn’t catch you staring. And with his fingers still in his mouth, he smirks around them, giving you a pleased expression when you take a sip from the cup. 

You glance up just for a second when you taste the same exact drink he’s been making you for the past forty five minutes and nod, trying not to focus on the way his tongue darts between his fingers twice before he pulls them out of his mouth. 

“Good?” He asks for confirmation, and when you smile and nod again, his eyes stare harder. 

Surely it’s just because you’re drunk, but you swear he’s giving you bedroom eyes, and paired with what he just did with his tongue….well. He looks at you similar to how he did this morning. And when you moved in. And back during that one Holiday party he attended at your childhood home. 

Definitely the alcohol. Like, he’s dating your sister. She’s the prettier one, the more successful one, the one with more personality. You’re just you. No way in hell is he really looking at you the same way he looks at her. It’s just your boosted confidence of finally being able to wear such a skimpy outfit. It’s just the liquid courage, that’s all. 

“You know–” He starts this time, leaning against the counter like he did this morning while helping your sister cook, trying to appear casual, cool, and perhaps attractive in this stance. “When I was beating Jay’s ass on smash bros earlier, he mentioned you.” 

You continue to sip your drink, feeling a buzzing in your chest and ears as you listen to him. Far more able now to have any conversation he could throw at you compared to any other day. Even with the thought in your head that he might be checking you out.

“Oh? Which one is Jay again?” You ask, leaning slightly to peek around the wall at the crowd of bodies just a room over. Interest peaking solely because the majority of people in this house right now are like, next level attractive. Maybe this Jay guy can take your thoughts off of your sister’s fucking boyfriend. 

“The one with the sunglasses on his head, wearing all black.” He starts, leaning close next to you and pointing just in front of your line of sight. “He’s a fucking loser, though.” 

You look at the guy, trying to remember the short greeting he gave to you. A nod of his head when he pushed those same sunglasses up and into his hair. He threw a very quick glance at you, to your face, chest, legs, then back to your face where he nodded again before making his way into the kitchen to make himself a drink.  You think, maybe, that Jay guy judged you positively upon meeting you. 

“He didn’t even tell me his name, no wonder I didn’t know which one he was.” You lend a drunken laugh as you check him out, sipping your drink again while listening to Heeseung laugh next to you. 

His laugh sounds closer, which makes sense considering he’s now leaning his weight on you with his elbow on your shoulder, resting his head there. 

“I thought he was that one–” You say, now pointing your own finger to the other guy you met briefly, the one with the longer hair, dyed blonde with hella untouched roots.. 

He had a nice smile when he greeted you, leaning in for a warm hug with a small “great to finally meet you.” His clothes drastically differed from Jay’s though. Far more casual and normal, loose jeans and a large hoodie just like what Heeseung seems to wear so often, except the colors were a bit brighter.

“Nah, that’s Jake.” Heeseung snorts, breathing in your scent as he leans into you as closely as he can, letting the stands of his hair poking out from his beanie tickle your neck. “Careful with that one, he’s a pervert.” 

You’re quick to admit interest in this one too, swatting Heeseung’s hair from your neck without thinking much about it. Which, arguably, doesn’t quite sit well with him.

Not only are you almost entirely ignoring him now, but it’s his fault for pointing out his friends to you again despite his attempts at making them appear unappealing to you. It seems that his girlfriend’s little sister is a bit too eager to look at guys, yet not eager enough to look at him.

“Oh yeah?” You look for a little too long at Jake, in Heeseung’s opinion, as he draws his finger over to the very sober Sunghoon. 

“You remember meeting him though, he made sure of it.” Heeseung rolls his eyes from beside you, leaning hard. “Also a pervert, just a little less obvious. I’d steer clear.” 

“Is Jay the only one that isn’t a pervert?” You ask off handedly in a shy chuckle, bobbing your head now to the music bumping against the walls. 

“God, did I not just tell you he mentioned you?” Heeseung shifts his weight to his other leg, skewing his head and looking straight down your shirt. “He asked if you were like your sister, the freak.”

He leans away from you at that point, noting that your drink is already near empty again and needing to refill it so that way he can push his own opinions into that empty little brain of yours. 

“What do you mean, like my sister?” You ask, watching him take the cup from you and place it right there in front of the same ingredients he just used to make the drink before. 

“Well,” He tilts his head back slightly when he turns to prepare the drink, eyes looking at you in a dark and somewhat scary way, still with a charming smile though. “Your big sis kind of got a little dirty on our first date. Guess Jay hopes you’re the same.”

Heeseung hopes you are too, but not for them. 

And, for you? It’s not like you’ve ever been given a chance to do such a thing. However, upon meeting and then re-meeting his friends from afar, all of them really are quite attractive. Maybe you could follow in your sister’s footsteps just to say that yes, you fuck on the first date too.

“I guess I am a bit like her.” You say offhandedly, looking away from Heeseung and tipping your head back around the corner to check the three men out again.

And when Heeseung turns to give you another full drink, he snaps his fingers. 

“Get back in here.” He says, and when you turn to face him again, his eyes land right back on your chest. 

“I’d advise against it.” He slurs at seeing your curious gaze land on one specific friend, stirring your drink with his fingers much like he did before. “Jay is a slut.”

“All of them are, actually.”

Unfortunately, Heeseung’s warnings go through one ear and out the other. He can see it, especially with the way you place that drink up to your lips and make your way into the living room, leaving him behind without so much as a “thank you”. 

And when you sit, directly between Jay and Jake, both of them turn their heads from the large TV screen, which allows Sunghoon to land some pretty major blows on them until he, himself, turns his head to witness two drunk idiots and a pretty girl between them. 

“Heeseung said you asked about me.” You state boldly, leaning into the wrong person to say it. 

“Well, he’s a liar.” Jake bellows out, studying how drunk you are and glancing up at Jay with a snide grin. Raising his brows and gripping his controller. 

“That would be me who asked.” Jay pipes in, and it’s the first time you’ve heard his voice directly address you, but man, alcohol is fun. It makes you feel even more bold when you turn to look at him with a face that you assume shows interest.

“Why didn’t you just ask me yourself?” You ask, ignoring that you fumbled the greeting.

“You weren’t drunk enough,” Jay laughs, ignoring the screen as it gives Sunghoon his win. “I see now though,” He looks you up and down, slouching back against the couch and stretching his arm wide around the back of it, and you.” You’re definitely drunk.”

You nod happily, eyes turning to Jake, who is still just checking you out. 

“Sure am.” You laugh, hopping up in one motion and turning to face them. “Heeseung also told me that you’re all fucking perverts, so.”

Jay and Jake both lend a “what the fuck, bro?” face at Heeseung, who was slouched against the wall, yet again, watching how you interact with his friends.  He simply shrugs at them with a malicious smile into his drink. After all, he’s the one on top of the world right now. Not only does he have a hot as fuck girlfriend who lets him live and do as he pleases, but now he’s got a younger version of her running around, acting like she knows how to whore herself out.

He can tell you’re just like her in that regard. Ready, willing, wanting to experience everything all at once if the world throws it at you. From the way you sat between his friends to the way you snitched on him with a pretty smile on your face. Oh man, the guys probably love you already.

“So, what?” Jay rolls his eyes as Jake watches you stand on wobbling legs. “You don’t like to get laid?”

You bellow out a laugh that nearly throws you off balance, but Jake is very quick to lunge forward and grab your arm to steady you, forcing you to spill your drink all over yourself and him. 

“Sure I do,” You ignore the blatant show of your mindstate and instead, remember how you’ve actually had plenty of sex during whatever time you could fit, in whatever place was hidden enough that didn’t involve your own home. “Why, you trying to get some?”

Jay smirks at you as Jake holds your half-spilled drink, listening to you flirt and smiling much the same way. 

“Maybe.” Jay shrugs, side eyeing both of his friends. “You gonna give it up?” He adds, now blatantly checking you out from head to toe, liking very much what he’s seeing. 

“Nope.” Heeseung suddenly cuts in, staring his three friends in the face as he grabs your drink from Jake and hands it back to you before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pretending to be the knight in shining armor your sister wants him to be. 

You look back at the three men as Heeseung leads you away, then you note that Sunghoon shrugs at you.

“What the hell?” You ask, slightly annoyed with Heeseung and the lights of the kitchen blinding you once again. “I was busy.”

“Busy doing what? Teasing my friends?” Heeseung shakes his head as he turns away from you, placing your cup down and opening the bottles back up. “You’re playing a dangerous game, babe, I’d stop if I were you.” 

“And? Maybe I like it.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how the alcohol radiates behind your eyes and lends two Heeseungs to pretend you’re not attracted to. At least with his friends, you can be more open about it. 

Heeseung stops making your drink and turns to look at you and the way your eyes struggle to adjust. He’s entirely floored by that statement. The fact that you’ve kept to yourself for the most part since you’ve moved in, and now you’re all cute and drunk in front of him revealing just how much of a whore you might be if you were given the chance? Damn. 

“Your sister would kill you.” He says, turning back to your drink and knowing that your sister probably wouldn’t actually give a shit if you fuck his friends. He does though. 

“I mean, I guess I won’t stop you.” He lies, now turning back to make your drink the exact same way and giving it to you despite knowing he shouldn’t be giving you more. 

“Can honestly say you’re a bit too pretty for them, though.” He adds in a snide compliment, wanting so badly to flirt but doing his best to appear like it’s totally normal for him to say these things. 

And as he notes your stare at him, processing the words, he takes this moment to grab a towel from the sink to dab away at the drink that you previously spilled all over yourself. 

You look at him, watching him dab the towel against your arm. He seems focused on doing it, pretty face and clear skin shining in these morgue lights in the kitchen compared to everywhere else in the house. And then, you note how when he looks up, his eyes stop momentarily at the amount of cleavage you’re revealing for this occasion. Hah, he probably thinks his messy strands of hair hid his eyes from you, but you saw it. 

“Oh, I get it.” You take in a deep inhale, reaching to pull his beanie over his eyes and letting out a bold laugh because really, you’re pretty drunk by this point. “You’re a pervert too.”

Heeseung shrugs, lifting the beanie back up and standing much taller in front of you. He skews his head down, looking right past your face and down your shirt this time. Proud of seeing the curve of them and the space between that could probably stimulate any cock you squeeze there.

“Maybe, yeah.” He smirks, taking a slight step closer and letting both arms trap you against the counter, hovering above you with an intimidating stance. “Maybe even more than they are.” He adds, already preparing himself to press his hips up and against you, uncaring of how it would look if he were to be found like this with you. 

Unfortunately, he’s forced to care because there’s a happy pair of footsteps making their way to the kitchen, and he really should not have been about to do that in the first place. He stumbles back at the sound, smiling at you with a quick, tipsy wink. 

It leaves you a little dizzy as you stare at him with a weird kind of aroused feeling in your gut. Surely that’s the alcohol too, it has to be. You’re very quick to shrug off the small intimate moment as you hear your sister’s loud and booming voice calling out his name.

You watch as she envelopes him in a fraction of a second, lifting on her unbalanced feet to immediately start making out with him. 

You’re not sure why you stand there and watch for a second, a little zoned out before Heeseung opens his eyes briefly and looks at you throughout the bruising kiss he’s currently an active participant of. 

There’s that same look again, only this time he’s doing it while licking into your sister’s mouth. You’re so fucking confused right now. All the signals have to be your imagination, right?

You snap out of the daze then, whispering a small “ill just go somewhere else.” before leaving the kitchen and finding yourself at the table just outside of it. 

You try to keep your eyes to yourself at this point regarding Heeseung, feeling all of the buzz and heat in your gut at the idea of being allowed to be openly sexually attracted to just about any man you lay eyes on. He’s nothing special, just a handsome guy. His friends are just as attractive, right?

And as you trail your eyes around the room trying to find someone to go mingle with, you are instead surrounded by your sister’s friends. Still, when you glance to the living room, every single time, either Jake, Jay, or that other guy is watching you with eyes that you’ve read before from other men.

Arguably, the same eyes Heeseung gave you just a few minutes before. At least with them, you know you’re not reading those bedroom eyes wrong.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Give me a week.” Jake says, elbowing Jay in the side and taking a hefty sip of his terribly mixed drink as his eyes drift to the new girl surrounded by other hot girls. “I'll be in her bed before the week is up..” 

Jay rolls his eyes, standing from the couch and stretching out his own tipsy limbs as he walks to Sunghoon and sits on that couch instead. 

“Three days for me then.” He says, giving Jake a too-confident face. “I could go over there right the fuck now and have her on her knees, probably.” He says as he looks at you, fitting in so well with the group of girls. Possibly being the hottest one too. “Maybe.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes at his slurring best friends, clearly drunker than they realize. 

“You both take the wrong approach.” He says, stiffening his shoulders before slouching entirely against the couch, considering ditching the baby-sitting job and having a drink as well. “You think they’d just let you fuck her? I’ll get her to go on a date with me first. Get her legs open in my car after.”

“Quite frankly, Sunghoon, I don’t really give a shit if they’d let me. I’m going to get some of that.” Jay responds.

All three of them are staring at you, thankfully, you don’t seem to notice as you fall into a conversation with that same group of girls, plus your sister now. And just as Jake was about to add more to the conversation, Heeseung makes his way in. 

“Don’t–” Heeseung slurs as he flops beside Jake, letting his heavy limbs hurt his friend. “–even think about it, Jakey boy.” He says, knowing for a fact what all three of his whore friends are thinking. They’ve been staring and glancing at you all night.

Jake avoids eye contact, because he’s definitely thinking about it. 

“No worries.” Jay shrugs. “We’re just looking, that’s all.”

Somehow, someway, all three of Heeseung’s friends pick up on what Jay is putting down. Ah, a deal of leaving him out, they suppose. 

After all, Heeseung already managed to bag your sister. They know he’d keep her little sister off limits to them too. Out of respect or some shit, probably. Bro code, all of that. 

“Keep it that way.” He hums, shoving Jake and laughing. “She’s too hot for you guys anyway, just like her sister.”

There’s a shared look between the three as Sunghoon lunges for Jay’s drink and takes a sip of it. 

“Heeseung, we’re crashing here tonight.” He bellows out through tangy lips. 

And, well, Heeseung didn’t argue because he knows he’s not in a state to really give a shit at this point. The only thing he needs to be focused on right now is willing his cock to soften up a bit before he does something drastic about it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Heeseung thinks hard as he looks at himself in the mirror. He’s seeing two of himself which is kind of funny in one aspect, but also terrifying because he didn’t intend to drink this much.

Why is he so upset to see his friends go for you? You’ve been here a week and he’s already feeling so jealous? Really? Then again, he knew from the moment your sister told him you were moving you that it was going to be either very interesting or incredibly difficult. 

Mostly because he’s stolen glances at you for years. Wondering when you’d ever come to visit, always looking so pretty and happy during those brief holiday gatherings. Oh yes, he’s had his eye on you for a fucking while. And now? You’re living here? And coming onto his friends right after he warned you not to? 

For the past hour as he sipped and watched you roam the house, back and forth between the girls, your sister, and his boys, he couldn’t help but scoff at you for it. You haven’t spoken to him since the kitchen incident. A little bit of a blatant moment on his part, he admits, he even surprised himself with that.

Still, this protective feeling doesn’t come from being your future brother in law. Absolutely not. It stems entirely from the twitch in his pants he’s gotten nearly every single moment he’s gotten to take a long look at you. 

It was manageable before, where he’d see you maybe once or twice a year. But now? It’s every single day, and it pisses him off that you’re not mingling with him during this party. 

He stares at himself, bobbing his head to the music in the mirror before leaning forward against the counter and inching closer and closer to his own face.Finally, he can focus in and see only one of himself looking back in the mirror. 

All he sees is a man who has managed to bag himself the perfect woman. One willing to coddle him and take care of him like a mother would, one willing to let him float through life unemployed for the time being, one that doesn’t entirely let him fuck the way he wants to solely because she’s far too confident in herself to let him pull such a thing with her. 

Heeseung tilts his head at himself as he examines his face in the mirror, knocking his beanie off and running his fingers through his hair. Leaning back and once again to relish in his own doubled vision.

What he really sees looking back at him in that mirror is a man who bagged himself an almost perfect woman who appears to have a truly perfect sister. It’s the fact that suddenly, he can admit that he is bored in the bedroom, and a man who is far too eager to ignore that if he got the chance, he would be just like his friends regarding you.

He would be getting your number and asking to see what those tits look like under that skimpy shirt you’re wearing tonight. You’d probably show them too, considering the fact that you lived your entire life up until this point barred by church sermons and non-existent doors that offer no privacy to so much as finger yourself. You’re probably dying to experience all of the things you were already supposed to be well acquainted with at your age. 

And as he thinks about it, head spinning in thoughts of what he’s already done just moments after you officially moved in, he slips his hand down. Groping himself through his jeans and staring down at the bulge that sits just above the counter. 

He hangs his head, smirking and shivering at the small touch he lends to his own length. It’s the fact that he just got hard over the confirmation of being sexually unsatisfied in his own bedroom. The shamed truth that he stood here thinking a little too hard about what kind of nudes you’d send if he ever chose to ask for them, it’s not something he’s ashamed of either. 

In fact, the thought of sneaking out of the bed while your sister sleeps just to slip into your room and cover your pretty little mouth in his cum? That’s more arousing than knowing he could just leave the bathroom right now and fuck your sister. 

And he stands there for a few minutes testing that theory, running his fingers along the swollen inseam of his pants in a careful way, like his girlfriend does. He twitches once at the feeling, glancing up at himself in the mirror again, trying hard to imagine her in this bathroom with him. 

Another twitch, weaker this time. He laughs at himself quietly in defeat before breathing in a deep inhale through his nose, allowing the muffled music just outside of the door to fade off through his hot ears and aroused mind. 

He closes his eyes briefly when he grabs himself now. Rougher, harsher, messier. Trying to mimic the hand of a woman who probably hasn’t done this too much, trying to mimic what he thinks you’d do. His hips shift forward almost immediately and without intention, chasing the feeling of inexperience. Chasing the thought of someone that isn’t his girlfriend. He chuckles more now, confirming his theory.

Chasing it with his eyes closed up until he does open his eyes and sees himself looking so out of it for you. Knowing that you’re just ten feet away if he were to walk out of this bathroom right now, so drunk and cute, you probably wouldn’t think twice about giving it to him. Knowing that if he really wanted to, he could take you the way he’s always wanted your sister and you'd probably love every second of it. 

He’d fuck you better. You’d be tighter, wetter, and louder for him than she ever has been.

And just as he goes to slide his hand down the front of his pants, intending to fuck his own fist to the thought of you tonight rather than turning that lock behind his own door to get between your sister’s legs, there’s a loud knock on the door. He jumps at the sound, adjusting his pants right back to where they belong before whipping around a bit too quickly and sending a bottle of perfume clattering to the floor in a loud POP sound.

“Shit-” He groans, smelling the intense aroma of what your sister wears, forcing his mind back to the reality of not being allowed to fuck you. 

He tiptoes around the broken glass, nostrils burning at the strong scent before swinging the door open with an annoyed roll of his eyes. 

“Heeeeeeeeseungie!” Your sister sings, fumbling over and leaning on him instantly with her arms circling his shoulders. She’s so gone that she doesn’t even notice the scent of her favorite perfume that just got destroyed. 

“Hey honey,” Heeseung says calmly, appearing far more sober despite being a bit buckled at the knees. “Need help?”

She nods against his chest, unaware of his softening cock that wasn’t at all raging for her just moments before.

“There’s glass all over the floor right now, let’s go use your sister’s bathroom.” 

The length in his pants shrank nearly instantly upon feeling her cling to him like this, with that cute, high pitched, voice she tends to use when she’s needy. He tries not to think about that though. Coming to terms with the fact that what used to get him off is currently turning him off? That’s too much of a dangerous thought right now. 

“Mhm,” Your sister hums as he guides her to your closed bedroom door.  “Wait!” Your sister panics, coming to her drunk senses for just long enough to blurt “She came in here with Sunghoon earlier, we should knock.”

Heeseung stiffens for a moment, pausing his step just outside your bedroom door. The weight of his own girlfriend against him should be something he loves right now, but he just finds himself wishing she’d get the fuck off of him. 

The fact he’s somehow more pissed about you behind this door, probably giving it to Sunghoon, than he is in love with his girlfriend right now? Telling. He knocks once before immediately turning your door knob. Locked.

“Hey, your sister needs to use the bathroom.” Heeseung shouts right up against the crack of the door, wiggling the knob. “Open up!”

“Use the other bathroom!” You shout back in a muffled and far away sounding voice. 

Heeseung stands there, pretending he doesn’t notice the sound of shuffling on the other side when the song booming through the speakers changes for a split second. 

“Can’t use the other bathroom! There’s glass on the floor!” 

Silence from the other side of the door for a brief moment then, click! You crack it open, cheeks flushed and eyes struggling to focus on him. Heeseung immediately pushes the door open to reveal not only Sunghoon, but Jake and Jay all three lounging around your room.

Still fully clothed, at least, but he can tell at least one of them appears to be struggling to hide his hard on. (Jake.)

Heeseung narrows his eyes at all three of the men. Jake sitting stiffly on the floor at the end of your bed, hands over his lap. Jay, lounging on your bed, as if he’s been on it a thousand times with a half-boner on full display. And then Sunghoon, clearly feeling some type of buzz as he’s the only one still drinking, leaning right up against the dresser that Heeseung built himself.

“Ooh,” Your sister hums, wiggling her finger at you.”Scandalous.” 

You lend her a shy smile as you take a step back, willing them sooner rather than later to leave solely because you were busy in here.

Not like, fucking or anything. Just having a nice, innocent, conversation with three hot guys. That’s all. Plus, you’d never have been able to handle sitting alone in a room with these three if it weren’t for the alcohol in your system anyway. Especially with the way you initially only invited Sunghoon into your room to show him how you had the same style of socks he was wearing. Jake immediately followed both of you, followed by Jay, who was the one who closed the door and locked it. 

And you pay no mind to Heeseung and your sister walking to your bathroom on unbalanced steps, you find yourself flopping back on the bed right beside Jay instead.

None of them have done anything at all to make you feel awkward or like this situation is dangerous either. In fact, the only thing you guys have talked about are the mutual interests that you share. 

Poor you, so aloof when drunk. Unable to comprehend the fact that every single one of the guys in your room right now have made attempts to steer the conversation in their own way to things not so innocent. 

You do try to ignore what happened in the kitchen with Heeseung though, avoiding eye contact with him as he makes his way back out of your room after helping with your sister. You think he’s glaring, maybe, but oh well.

“Anyway, back at home my dad would have never let me wear band shirts.”

“That’s tough.” Jay comments, side eyeing your chest in that top and low-key wondering how nice your tits would look braless, under one of his band shirts. “Bet he didn’t know he raised not one, but two sneaky daughters.”

You smile triumphantly, ignoring the shadow of your sister that they force you into. 

“They made it really hard to break rules. Now though? I get to wear stuff like this and hang out with guys like you.” 

“Yeah,” Jake trails off, turning his body to peek at you from the end of the bed. “Probably not the smartest move on your part.”

You bring your attention to him, seeing a blur of charming eyes and messy hair. 

“What do you mean?”

“What he means is that, it’s probably not ideal to get shit faced then lock yourself in a room with three horny guys.” Sunghoon asserts, pushing off of the dresser and now setting himself on the foot of your bed. “You can’t tell?” 

You, for some reason, are astonished at his words. Sunghoon, compared to the other two, seemed more quiet and reserved if you’re being honest. Then again, you’ve only known these guys for a few hours by this point. What you do know about Sunghoon, is that he’s horrifyingly attractive in the way he carries himself, which you can’t really say the same for Jake or Jay. 

With his perfected dark hair and tall stance. he looms around with each expression on his face leaving little to the imagination in the way his eyebrows accentuate whatever thought flows behind his eyes. Somehow, he’s still the hardest to read, as you watch him assert his own form of dominance on your bed. 

You’re blissfully unaware of how tame Sunghoon was actually being at this moment though. All three of them, they’re competing to see who fucks you first, and whoever wins? Ah, not only do they get a paid night at the bar out of it, but both losers have to fork over another sum of money equal to that of two seasons worth of battle passes to whatever game the winner may choose to play. 

“I think this is a good time to hand you my phone, give me your number.” Jay cuts in quite quickly, ignoring the way Sunghoon invites himself into the space he created with you. 

Jay doesn’t even let you process his words as he tosses his phone to the side and at you, watching it land on your stomach before sliding off to the other side of you. 

“Ah, you’re cute.” He chuckles upon noting your terrible coordination skills of grabbing said phone. 

“Well, I’m drunk, so.” You dead-pan, freezing when you feel him lean over you to grab the phone himself, staying there and hovering over you with it in his hand.

You let out a small gasp when you meet his eyes, staring straight through you. 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes at Jay’s blatant show of interest, and Jake simply watches. Studies how you react to the forwardness.

“Go on.” Jay encourages you, holding the phone directly in front of you, where your eyes are still glued to his confident face, as if he’s not practically caging you in on your own bed like this. “Type it in.”

You do. Somehow managing to type your number perfectly on the screen placed in front of you, and he’s quick to turn the phone to himself, flicking his eyes back and forth between you and the screen as he presses the call button.

Your phone vibrates from the dresser and Jay gives a victorious and somewhat dark smile. 

“One for me, zero for the idiots.” He laughs, lending you one more glance, a squeeze of his palm against your waist, and then he’s moving off of you and your bed as a whole. “Call me when you kick them out, I’ll sleep in here tonight.” He adds, leaving no room for argument before leaving the room entirely.

That leaves Sunghoon and Jake, sitting there trying to pretend it wasn’t expected of Jay to at least get your number first. He always starts strong, then again, he also always fumbles hard when things get gritty. In game and out of game. 

“What a prick.” Sunghoon sighs, flopping back on the end of your bed and forcing you to shift your legs up and press them together to make room for his broad body.

He turns his face to look at you from down here, watching you spread your legs to look back at him. The motion is innocent at best, because you seem to trust that he’s not trying to be a pervert right now. Oh, but he is. 

He looks at you from this angle hard, realizing how easy it could be to shift just a foot in the right direction to have his face right where you’d probably like it. 

And you note the way he’s looking at you.

“Do you guys like…” You glance away from him, over to Jake who is now making his own way onto the bed where Jay was lying before. You shift for a moment, feeling like prey. “Do you guys always share a girlfriend?”

Jake snorts. 

“Share?!” He laughs at your question more before settling back against your pillows and landing his hand on your thigh. Easy, simple, and obvious. “We don’t share anything.” He explains now, feeling the fabric of your bottoms and pushing your legs closed so that Sunghoon can’t lay down there and think up all sorts of fantasies. 

“You’re gonna have to pick.” Sunghoon says in an annoyed tone, glaring at Jake for closing your legs.

He lifts up on his arms now, raising a brow. 

“I’ll give you some advice though.” He says, noting how you listen to him more than you do Jake. “Jay has the stamina of a dead horse.”

Snorting only for a moment, you think hard about Jay. Noting his cool and collected demeanor. Uncaring, somewhat cold, but his face seemed warm and endearing when he looked at you from time to time. You could sense the confidence in him from the moment he looked at you when he walked into this house. Instant attraction, without even knowing his name, is what you felt. With that sleek hair style and pretty hands gripping a full bottle of tequila. He probably has more stamina than Sunghoon gives him credit for.

“And Jake.” Sunghoon laughs this time, pointing directly at the guy lying next to you. “Two strokes and he’s out of the game.”

You laugh again looking over to Jake, who stares at Sunghoon with a dark glare. 

“What the fuck dude? That was one time!” He defends himself, babbling about how it was the first time he ever had sex, and how he can go way longer now. 

“Me, on the other hand.” Sunghoon perks up as he runs his hands through his hair before smiling at you. “I just want to take you on a date.”

Ding ding ding! We have a winner. 

“Really?” You ask, floored over possibly landing your first date in years that your parents wouldn’t be attending.

“Of course.” He nods politely, ignoring that Jake is even in the room now. “I’m not the kind of guy who is just trying to get between your legs.” He lies easily, glaring at Jake again for closing your legs earlier.

“So, what do you say?” Sunghoon encourages you to pick him at this moment, and the nod you give has him pulling his own phone out, asking you to tell him your number rather than forcing you to type it into his phone. 

You smile as you give him the numbers, not at all seeing Jake try to sneakily type it into his phone as well. 

“Good.” Sunghoon says, flopping back on your bed and now using his own hand to part your legs again. You look at him from above and feel elated by how petty and clean cut he is. “Don’t call Jay when I leave, then.”

You hum a confirmation, stretching out your arms and feeling confident as all hell at the way tonight has gone. Up until, well, Sunghoon makes his way out of the room and tries to drag Jake with him. Only because he knows Jake is awful at talking to girls but man, do they swoon if they’re into desperate guys. You seem to be into just about anyone, if Sunghoon is honest with himself. 

“Come on, dickhead.” Sunghoon gripes at Jake, grabbing his hoodie and physically trying to drag him out of the room. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Jake says, pressing all of his body weight against your mattress and kicking Sunghoon away from him. “Play fair or I’ll tell her about last weekend.”

Sunghoon instantly avoids eye contact with him, knowing that if Jake were to spill the beans on how he forgot to leave the server during his uh…session, a date would be out of the question not only for now, but for good.

“You’re the fucking worst.” He grimaces before releasing Jake’s hoodie and stepping out of the room, only half wondering if he should truly let Jake shoot his shot as well.

Ultimately, Sunghoon finds himself stepping out of the door and directly into Jay. 

“Well played.” Jay comments. “Guess I’ll just have to prove to her that you’re full of shit, won’t I?” 

Sunghoon smiles a wicked grin, eyes narrowing at Jay. 

“You won’t even get the chance.” He says, looking past Jay and down the hallway at Heeseung, who is shooting a death-glare at them. “Oh, check it.” He changes the subject by shoving Jay in the side to look at their friend. “He’s mad.”

Jay turns to look at whatever it is Sunghoon is talking about and simply laughs. 

“He can tell something is up. Maybe we should tell him?” Jay asks, crossing his arms in interest. 

“Eventually.” Sunghoon laughs as he pushes past Jay and makes his way to the kitchen for another drink.

Jake, on the other hand, is fucking vibrating as he sits alone in this room with you, dodging the questions about what Sunghoon did last weekend to cause such a reaction with an entirely made up sob story. 

“Oh my god?” You coo out, turning to face him entirely. “That’s so sad!”

Jake mumbles, nodding his head as if he pities himself with a pout on his face. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s just how things go for me though.” He shrugs, blinking at you with the biggest and softest eyes he can manage. 

“I can’t believe she did that!” You bellow out now, entirely invested in the backstory of the love life he lost just a few months prior. “With her own cousin, too?!”

Jake nods again with that same pout, looking as defeated as he can, trying to be as charming as he possibly can.

You lean forward to give him a some form of hug at this moment, drunken emotion overtaking you as you sit and watch this poor guy pour his little broken heart out. 

“If it makes you feel any better, my last boyfriend broke up with me because my dad threatened him.”

“No, that’s awful.” He chuckles sadly, shaking his head at you. “We’re both just unlucky, huh?”

He nods his head, seemingly to get you to shadow his actions, and as expected, you do. You nod to confirm his words, still invested in the fact that such a nice looking guy got fucked over like that, only to be made fun of by his friends for it. 

So invested that you don’t note the way he keeps his hand on your leg or moves it upwards inch by inch. 

“Can we change the subject?” Jake pouts harder, looking at you with sparkling eyes.. 

“Yeah, of course–” 

“You’re really, really, pretty.” He suddenly blurts, looking you in the eye and using his other hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face. You totally believed his entire story, if the saddened look in your eye is anything to go by. “I think you should go on a date with me instead.”

You break eye contact, looking down again and only just now noticing his hand on your leg. Only just now noticing that hard-on he’s sporting in his pants. 

“Jake.” You say, lifting your eyes back to him. “Are you–hard?” You lift your brows in pity again with the subject change, drunken brain telling you that he’s probably crawling in his skin over how hard he is, and how sad everything is for him. 

“Oh, over this?” He asks, dropping his hand and blatantly groping himself. “A little. It always happens when someone as good looking as you gives me the time of day.”

Oh, how sweet. How cute. The fact that Jake gets hard simply over someone being nice to him? 

“Well, don’t worry!” You try to perk him up, not at all realizing that he’s full of shit. “I know it’s not because you’re trying to get into my pants or anything. I won’t tell anyone.” You nod to him with a smile before– Uh oh.

“Well, actually–” Jake tries to start, already about to make his move when he notices the color on your face change and you’re fumbling to the bathroom. 

And just like that, Jake has failed, as he stumbles out of your bed and to your locked bathroom door. 

“Are you okay?” He asks with a sweet and caring voice.

Silence from the other end save for the sound of your sink running full blast probably to mask the sounds of your stomach trying to evacuate the copious amounts of alcohol that’s been fed to you. 

So much for the pancakes being a fix-all solution. And with that, Jake leaves the room while pulling out his phone, texting the number he stole when you gave it to Sunghoon. 

Jake: hey, don’t be embarrassed about getting sick. I’m gonna crash on the couch so if you need me i’ll be there.

After that, the party is pretty much over. Everyone save for the three perverts, Heeseung, and your sister remain.

This leaves your sister already passed out and tucked into her bed by none other than Heeseung himself, Jay already asleep on the couch, Sunghoon piled up on the floor between the dining room and the living room. Probably to create a barrier that would wake him if Jay really tried to get into your room.

And poor fucking Jake, forced to actually pity himself as he curls his body up on the love seat in the living room, pretending that it’s totally big enough for him to be comfortable here.

Heeseung looms around the house once everything goes silent, checking to be sure no one has passed out or died in a corner before coming back to the living room and staring at all three of his bitch-ass friends. 

On one hand, he’s glad they’re in the living room and not in your room. On the other hand, he wants to smother all three of them. One by one.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Heeseung is in his head for a solid three days after the party. So much that his focus is more on you than his games. Which is super fucked up when he thinks about it. That’s why, when your sister heads off to work, he’s plotting in his head every time. He needs you to like him somehow. 

The thoughts loop in his mind. From images of him pinning you up and against that kitchen counter again, to the fantasy image of you dropping to your knees in front of him. If anything, it’s not that he needs to fuck you, he just needs you to want him to.

And this is why he finds himself orbiting you. Finding reasons to come into your room, or reasons to get you out of it. 

“I’m gonna do some laundry, do you have anything I need to wash?” When you didn’t have anything more than what was already in your basket, he still washed your clothes. He also folded one of his own shirts into your pile just to see if you’d wear it. 

“I made some lunch, come eat with me.”  You already ate while he was in the office playing his games, which he should have guessed. 

“Hey, can you help me wash the dishes?” You had nodded, but never left your room and he ultimately ended up washing and drying them all himself. Waiting, waiting, and fucking waiting.

All three times he tried today, you brushed him off with your eyes glued to your phone. 

Something has got to give because it’s starting to get embarrassing how much he thinks about you. With the way he avoided sex last night with his own, very beautiful girlfriend, just to hide in the bathroom at four in the morning getting off with something he absolutely should not have in his possession. 

He doesn’t know how fucking long it’s gonna take to get you to break for him but it’s going to happen one way or the other. You don’t have a choice in the matter at this point .

It looks like you won’t even consider him in that pretty little head of yours simply because he’s considered off limits. He’s gonna have to prove you wrong.

Still, he remembers the way you looked at him during your welcome party. So cute and sweet when you’re drunk, so willing to hang out with him. The interest was there. He knows it was.

And now, as he ticks away at the WASD keys on his keyboard, running his little pixel version of himself back and forth between headshots that he misses every time, he wants to rip his fucking hair out. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Jay shouts through the headset. “He was right there!”

Heeseung knows his friends have every reason to rag on him right now. It’s the fifth lost ranked game of the day and he’s rotting inside at the thought of dropping back down to gold. 

“Platinum my ass.” Sunghoon pipes in, slamming his mouse on his desk out of sheer annoyance at what happened during the last game. “You didn’t down a single person in the past three games.”

Heeseung sighs, ripping his headset off and closing out the game. He can feel it in his body. The frustration bubbling up to the point that he really only thinks about you and this shit needs to stop now before his precious rank drops so far down that even their bronze boy Jake could boast above him. 

He ignores the annoyed shouts from his friends as he disconnects from discord, stands up, and practically storms out of the room and up to your door. 

“I’m coming in!” Heeseung gripes.

This is your first time witnessing him in a bad mood, as he does exactly as he says and swings your door open for the fourth time today. 

“You and me.” He says, pointing a finger at you “Right now.”

“Right now, what?” You ask in a nonchalant tone.

Which only pisses him off more because, fuck if he knows. 

“Get off your phone. We’re hanging out.”

You furrow your brow at him, pointer finger locking the screen of your phone and hiding the string of texts you’d been sharing with one of his very own best friends. Your eyes scan him only for a moment, noting how rushed he appears to be while barging into your room like this.

Large hoodie covering the majority of his body, sweat on his brow probably from all of that screaming you heard in the office earlier, and that same very embarrassing dent on the top of his head from his headset. 

As you look at him in all of his gamer boy glory you nod, only because out of all of his friends, you think you’d rather hang out with him because at least he’s not in your texts trying to land a date, or a hookup, or dropping dick pics by “accident”. 

He’s just Heeseung, your sister’s loving and very hard to read boyfriend. Who you don’t happen to fully remember is capable of pinning you against the kitchen counter while trying to show you how much worse he is compared to his friends. 

“Okay, what do you wanna do?”

He pauses, standing in your room and looking at you lounging on your bed. If he really told you what he’d like to do, it would probably scare you. He needs to think fast, not desperate. 

“Uh,” He hums, glancing away from you and lifting his hand up to finally ruffle that embarrassing dent in his hair away. “Have you ever played video games?”

“Yeah. Not the ones you play though.” You roll your eyes at his attempt at sudden small talk.

God, he shouldn’t have asked. He doesn’t think you could make yourself any more alluring to him after saying that. While his girlfriend has never once even considered picking up a controller, you have? Oh, shit. Man, that’s so hot. 

“Oh yeah?” He perks up in genuine interest, taking a step forward and landing himself on your bed without invitation. “Like what?”

“Party games mostly, I guess. Mario Party, Super Smash Bros, Wii sports, Among us.” 

He nods as you list the most mundane games in the industry. 

“Did you pick up pretty quickly? Like, did you ever win?” He asks, unaware that this conversation feels like literal foreplay to him, pleased by the fact that there’s suddenly more to like about you than just those tits and face….and personality….and intense need to break rules…and–

“Yeah, I can be kind of competitive.”

“Mm.” Heeseung nods in approval, turned on by the very image of you staring into a screen with dead eyes, fingers smashing on buttons and intensely focused. 

“Do you wanna watch me play something?”

“How is that hanging out?” You ask, scoffing at the idea. “Why would I want to watch you have fun?”

Heeseung looks at you. Yeah, that’s fair. He would probably end up ignoring you the whole time anyway, but still. Is it so bad that he asked simply to fulfill the fantasy of having a girl fawn over him and his successes? 

“Okay, then what would you want to do?” He shoots back, knowing it’s fair but hating it nonetheless. Wondering if there’s a chance that someday you’ll pile up on his lap and watch him carry the whole team to victory. Boasting for him more than he does for himself. 

“Horror movie. I’m sure she’s told you but our parents were very strict about what media we consumed. I have a whole list of horror movies I’m trying to work through, but sometimes it’s kind of difficult to watch by myself.”

Fuck yeah. Maybe it’ll end in that cringe and cliche scenario he’s used time and time again when flirting with girls. Images of you jumping from a jumpscare and grabbing him on instinct. Fantasies of you cuddling up real close. So close that he can smell how much you want him. He could get hard right now just thinking of doing this very thing with you. Plus, he fucking loves horror movies.

“Get your pretty ass in the living room then. ” He nods, smiling at you in a way that hides every thought behind his empty, horny eyes. 

And he just gets up and walks out like calling you pretty just now wasn’t at all out of place, he fucking winks at you. It really does throw you off that he just did that so nonchalantly, like he talks to everyone that way when you know for a fact that outside of this house, your sister has to fight him just to get him to wave hello to someone. 

You wonder why it feels like maybe you shouldn’t be spending time alone with him. Arguably, you don’t want to admit that it makes you feel good either. Already with three separate, very attractive people, in your texts insisting that you pick them, that you choose them. 

All of it is very desperate. Almost as desperate as you are to give in to every single one of them, but you can’t just let them know how sheltered you were and how free you feel the need to be now. 

Of course Heeseung, your sister’s boyfriend, calling you pretty would make you feel confident. Like maybe you could be with someone just as attractive as him, or perhaps no longer live in the shadow of everything you wish you could be. 

Her. Everything was always about her. 

“Oh, your sister got top of her class! She’s gonna be moving out soon!” She really just left you there to suffer alone. 

“Ah! Your sister just bought a house! I heard she and her boyfriend might marry soon!” 

You scoffed that day when you entered college, no one congratulated you for the countless free rides or multiple acceptance letters. No, it was all about her despite the fact that she lived an hour and a half away and you were right there.

She was only better than and outshined you because she was older and got there first. It was never competitive with you until everyone in your life expected you to outshine, outdo, and outwit her. 

Still, you jumped at the opportunity to live here solely to get away from your parents. Solely to try and live outside of everything you could be, only to become whatever the fuck you want to be. And yeah, you love her immensely because she truly is the only person who never expected you to be her. There’s so much resentment but an equal amount of love within you for your sister. 

And while Heeseung has no idea of this resentment you have rotting in your chest, you also have no idea that Heeseung believes the one thing you hold over your sister is the fact that you’re just her, except, well…younger, hotter, wilder, prettier, more inexperienced. Cuter voice. Snarkier attitude. Open, and perhaps, willing. 

If you knew that, perhaps Heeseung calling you pretty as if it’s his natural born right would become something different in your head. Perhaps you’d want to live in your sister’s shadow just once more. Why not try and take what your sister has? Wouldn’t that be fun?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

What a fucking bummer, Heeseung thinks, as he sits on one end of the couch with you on the other. He’s watched you more than the movie at this point, but the clock is tick-tick-ticking, and you’re just sitting there pushing through the horrors with a smile. Something's got to give. 

Your sister comes home in three hours, leaving space for just one more movie and he is truly determined to score this win if it’s the last thing he does. The worst part? Morals don’t mean shit if you want him to fuck you.

If there’s one thing Heeseung hates more than losing, it’s one-sided attraction. He knows he’s not the problem, you are for not looking at him long enough. You are for not even considering that he could fuck you better than anyone in all of those porn accounts you follow on twitter. Not that he stalked it or anything (he did.)

And that’s why, as his stare becomes darker, he stands up and scratches the back of his head with a sigh. 

“I’ll be right back.” He says, watching you wave him off as if you were totally paying attention to him.

That’s going to change right the fuck now. 

He heads to his shared room with your sister, stepping into the walk in closet and examining himself in the wall length mirror before sighing. 

Goddamn, he really stopped caring about how he looked once he finally got between your sister’s legs and locked her down. It’s no wonder you gave his friends more attention that night than you’ve ever given to him. He inspects his hair, messy and frizzy from his hoodie being pulled over and off of his head throughout the day. The cowlicks in the back leaving nothing to your imagination in regards to when the last time he washed the fucked-up locks was. 

He sighs at himself, licking his palm and trying to tame the cowlick. God, a shower right now would seem ridiculous because he’s supposed to be on the couch with you, standing up the gore and death on screen so your hand will accidentally touch his dick or something. 

No good. He needs to backpedal a little bit with his confidence, probably. He steps out of his room, taking his hoodie off at the same time. He rolls the sleeves of his t-shirt now, wanting to at least reveal his shoulders and arms to you. Wanting to parade himself around the house until you drip for him. 

“Hey.” He walks back into the living room, still rolling the last bit of his left sleeve up and over his shoulder. “Can you pause the movie for like ten minutes and throw a pizza in the oven or something?”

You look up at him and the way he seems like he’s thinking about something far off from any situation that’s currently happening. 

“Yeah, sure.” You nod, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie. “We could just keep watching while the pizza cooks though.”

He chuckles, knowing you’d say that and not at all having an excuse. 

“I need to take a shower.” He dead-pans, as if it’s not sudden or weird that he’s decided to rudely interrupt the last movie of the night with a shower that could definitely wait. 

“Just shower after we finish the movie.” You roll your eyes, still standing to your feet and heading towards the kitchen. “It’s not like your stink will get any worse in the matter of a few hours.”

Oh, so now he smells bad?! Is that why you aren’t into him?

“Or you could stop complaining and make the fucking pizza.” He snaps for the first time with a tone that indicates you should probably listen and do as he says. 

“God, what’s your problem?” 

“My problem? What’s yours?” He shoots back, far too annoyed that you play hard to get like this. There’s no way you seriously aren’t getting it. “You’re the one sitting around like you’d rather be doing anything else.”

You press the preheat button on the oven, and look at him shocked. Are his–feelings hurt? Are you really acting like a bitch, or uninterested in getting to know the man your sister will probably spend her life with? 

Were you really acting like you weren’t having a good time? God, you must be such a drag. 

“What? I was having fun, Heeseung, I like watching movies with you.” You try to explain, but he cuts you off.

“Fucking act like it then.” He gripes before turning on his heel and leaving you alone in the kitchen. 

It’s not like you knew he expected you to be interested in friendship with him or anything. You were just…hanging out. You really didn’t know it was supposed to go differently in his head, and the fact that it appears that he does have a specific expectation?  You wonder how to fulfill it. 

After all, you’re trying to avoid showing all the interest you actually have for him when you’re hanging out. It’s what you’re supposed to do, right? And well, by the time he’s out of the shower and presenting himself to you, you think you might have a better idea as to what he’s thinking. Is he trying to impress you right now? 

You can smell his cologne mixed with a minty scented shampoo. His hair looks blow dried. His skin is glistening, and he’s fucking shirtless. 

He watches when he sits down, this time closer to you on the couch presumably so you could share the pizza sitting on the coffee table just in front of you then he checks the clock. Only about thirty minutes wasted out of the remaining time he has with you alone, and then he checks you. Staring. Damn right. 

To you, he looks different.

Not just handsome, or kind of endearing in a loser way. But he actually looks sexy sitting there, with those loose gray sweatpants leaving nothing to the imagination in terms of size, and his exposed torso makes it harder to keep your eyes to yourself.

 His broad shoulders seem to accentuate his neck much more than you imagined considering you never have seen him lounge around like this, and his hair is no longer dented. It’s washed, fresh, and looks fucking good on him. 

Then, his smirk. It’s permanent on that knowing face of his.  

“What are you looking at?” He side eyes you, totally ignoring the pizza because he wasn’t actually hungry. 

He feels a victory welling up in his chest at the way you look at him though, seeing you already get so flustered? So easy. 

“Um,” You pause, tearing your eyes away in embarrassment. “Nothing.” 

He chuckles once in a short breath before stretching himself back against the couch cushions, spreading his legs wide and taking dominance over the space in the room. 

“Didn’t seem like nothing.” He flirts easily, testing the waters of how willing you are to admit that he’s getting his way. “You were checking me out.” 

You face forward now, shifting closer to the arm of the couch and pretending like you can't feel the warmth of the hot water he must have used radiating off of him. 

“Of course not!” You laugh nervously, lunging forward for the remote again. “Why would I check you out?”

Heeseung rolls his eyes at your shitty attempt to lie. 

“Because I took my shirt off for you.” He says, turning his head to look at you with a malicious smirk. “Was that not obvious?” 

You turn to look at him in surprise. Why the fuck would he even say that to you?!

“Do you like me better this way? Half naked?”

“What are you talking about?” You avoid him like your life depends on it, not wanting to admit that you definitely find him more attractive right now than you ever have, and the fact that he’s talking to you like this only further pushes you to want what you can’t have.

“You think I’m hot, don’t you?” He presses, bouncing his leg and keeping his eyes on the way your chest heaves at his words. 

“You want me, don’t you?” He continues pressing, repeating the question in a way that makes you feel forced to agree with him. 

“You’re gonna think about me the next time you–”

“Heeseung!” You shout, turning your entire body towards him with heat searing on your cheekbones. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re dating my sister.” You try to bring both him and yourself back to reality with that statement, more upset internally at the fact that you’re right about it. 

He’s dating your sister and yet, he’s…doing this. To you. And you fucking like it?

“Yeah, no shit.” He laughs you off, looking down at his lap and feeling a twitch at the way you don’t leave the room. Proving in some way that you definitely like it. “And I’m still right, aren’t I? You’re just playing hard to get.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded and utterly shocked by his blatant attempts to come onto you. Unfortunately, you’ve never been in this situation before and your eyes tell on you the same way your body language does. Of course he’s right, and you know you’re doing a terrible job of hiding it.

“Ah, Yeah.” He smiles, watching how you try to keep your eyes on his face but failing. “I’m right.” He continues, lifting his ass just slightly to accentuate the shape of his cock under these sweats for you to get a good eye full. 

You swallow, looking away from him and squeezing your legs together. It feels like such a sudden change of atmosphere. What was once a deniable crush on him becomes a confusing whirlwind wet panties and zero morality.

Does he get off on trying to rile you up? There’s no fucking way he’d actually go through with any of this. He’s just doing it because he thinks it’s cute that you want him. Right? 

You know for a fact that if Jay talked to you this way, you would have let him do whatever he wanted to you. But this is Heeseung. Not Jay, not Jake, not Sunghoon, with their shitty attempts at trying to pull off the exact thing. Oh god, this is bad. This is so bad. 

“I’m going to my room.” You swallow around the thick words, not at all wanting to leave the room solely because your body is giving in instantly to the fact that Heeseung is dirty talking to you for no goddamn reason. 

Perhaps it’s the fact that the one thing your sister has that you shouldn’t ever be able to obtain is doing this. Never did you think a mere idea that he’s attractive would turn into a split second decision of wanting him to fuck you. 

“No, you’re not.” He chuckles, spreading his legs a bit wider now and looking down at his lap, the same exact spot your eyes are looking at. “You’re going to try and keep your eyes on the screen, and we’re going to finish this movie.” 

Safe to say, that was a harder demand to follow than you anticipated and he seemed to fucking love raising his brow at you each time he caught your eye on him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By the time your sister returned home and essentially tamed her boyfriend from acting out any longer, you felt…insane. She tamed him without even knowing that he was acting out, not double-taking at all when she walked in to him spread out and shirtless on the couch with you struggling to watch the movie. You felt his confidence radiating, making the living room feel suffocating and unstable in terms of if you belong there or not. 

You find yourself in your room now, cuddling up in your bed with thoughts ruminating on how you have not one, not two, not three, but four men throwing themselves at you. You don’t recall ever actually giving them the idea that this is okay. Or maybe you did? You’re not sure.

You scroll through your text messages, old friends from back home falling into the background each time you open a message from Jake, or the other two that consistently check in with you like you’re some sort of prize to be won. 

Maybe you want to be a prize for some handsome guy to flaunt though, and you embody all of that confidence you got from, somehow, having the one man you’re not supposed to ever obtain parading around for you.

You embody it to text back. To be bold. To give in to the arousal that just slammed you in the gut, reeling from the very idea that there are men in this world who want to fuck you and you’re about fed up with pretending it’s a lie.

You: are you done with your game? 

You send the same message separately to all three of Heeseung’s friends, and somehow you’re still unaware that they all three share the information with each other in discord. 

“Are you done with your game?” Jake mimics in a feminine tone. “She’s playing with all of us.” 

Jay chuckles through the mic, damning them to be second and third place as he quickly texts back.

Jay: no, but I can be. Why? 

“To be fair, we’re kind of playing with her too.” Sunghoon cuts in, responding in his own way to your text and telling you that he’s bored, that he’s waiting on you to give him a date and time to pick you up, that he’s annoyed with his friends. 

“Well, yeah!” Jake bellows through the muffled mic. “I mean, look at her.”

“Oh, I’ve looked.” Sunghoon smiles at himself before snapping his eyes to the discord and noting how Jay has muted himself. 

“That mother fucker.”

Jake follows suit, noting exactly what Sunghoon is calling out before lending a groan of his own. 

“He’s trying so hard.” He rolls his eyes, knowing for a fact that Jay is probably already mid text-conversation with you.

And he would be right, as you lay against your pillows and let Jay’s conversation overpower the two other unopened texts from his friends. 

You: im a little overwhelmed right now, not sure how to explain it.

Jay: overwhelmed how?

You: well…

You take a second to yourself to breathe, feeling your entire body radiate with a feeling that can only resemble that of want, or perhaps need. You’ve sexted multiple times in your life, but never in a situation where you’re sexting because you’re overwhelmed more than just aroused. 

It’s the fact that you’re bringing it up this time after playing uninterested since any of them started texting you. You’ve dodged Jake’s dick pics, you’ve pushed off the date you agreed to go on with Sunghoon, and you’ve even gone as far as telling Jay you’re not interested at all.

Now though? You can imagine what he’d think of you to see you bring it up. Do you care though? Not that much. After all, you’re single, you’re consumed by the ability to do whatever you want, and Jay’s hot. 

You: im frustrated.

You: REALLY frustrated.…sexually

Jay: oh yeah? for me?

You stare at the screen, sending him an emoji that confirms your words for a third time before swiping away and looking at your inbox of available men. You know who else is hot? Sunghoon. 

You: hey if we went on a date, where would you take me?

Sunghoon: probably a movie or something idk, why? what would you wanna do?

You: id wanna go to your house

Sunghoon: and why is that, cutie?

And as you pick up conversations with both men, reeling from the attention, you think…hmm, you wanna know who else is hot? Jake. 

You: Jakeeeee

Jake: whaaaat :) 

You: remember that dick pic you sent to me then begged me to delete because it was an accident?

Jake: …

You: i didn’t delete it. 

Jake: you like it?

You: maybe. 

And you guess this is who you are now, plotting and setting up some form of sexting situation with three different men, who are all very close friends, who all very much seem to reciprocate your advances.

It’s actually pretty cool, as you lay here reading words from a different man every two minutes. Jay telling you exactly how he could help you with that frustration, Sunghoon asking you to explain what you’d wanna do in his house with him, and then Jake blatantly sending his cock to you again like he has nothing better to do. 

It’s all fun and games until things start to get real heated and you get kind of into it. Focusing on Jay’s little message of, “im helping you out here, you should help me too. send pics.” 

You ask yourself why you consider doing it before swiping away and landing on a video of Jake, face bright and smiling before lowering the camera. Blatantly fucking himself just because you said he had a nice dick. 

Your body is feeling permanent goosebumps because of those two, overwhelming you more than you could have imagined to see just how far they’d be willing to go to try and convince you to do the same for them.

Sunghoon brings a different form of arousal in his inbox though. Far more tame than the others, asking you to push, telling you to say all of the dirty things rather than him. Pushing for a date. 

Sunghoon: keep talking to me like this, ill come get you right now. 

You: not yet, just this for now.

Sunghoon: no pressure, are you touching yourself at least?

You: I am 

Sunghoon: yeah? thinking about me too right? 

You: yea

You’re lying. Kind of. Half-lying, at least, because you are thinking about him but you’re also thinking about Jake, and Jay, and sending nudes, and– Heeseung.

You’re thinking about Heeseung, and only because you can hear the shuffling in the room a wall over. Then? Thumping, right behind you as you lay in your bed. At this moment, you should be able to focus on the men blatantly trying to fuck you, but instead you’re reminding yourself of how Heeseung looked earlier.

And you’re listening. Thumping, thumping, thumping, until you hear–

“Don’t cover your mouth, she’s probably asleep anyway.” You hear Heeseung bellow out in a far-away voice. 

Great. They’re fucking. Just fucking great. Well, now what? You think, as you thumb back and forth between messages with frustration.

Your mind reels as you listen though. Imagining Heeseung more than anything being the force behind those thumps on your wall. His voice almost croaked when he regarded you directly to your sister while fucking her. Why can’t you stop thinking about him? All it took was a single day of marathoning movies?! A single shower?! 

God, you’ve got to seem desperate to be reacting this way. He probably thinks that shit is funny.  And as you now shove your headphones in your ears so as to not hear anymore of it, you stand on your feet and walk to your bathroom. You’re too interested in being fucked now, might as well give the boys something to look at, right?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“She really is trying to get away with it.” Sunghoon says, dumbfounded by the receipts provided by all three boys in their own private group chat.

Without Heeseung. 

“Yeah, but she sent me an ass pic.” Jay boasts, smiling to himself and silently saving the other provided images that you sent to his friends. 

“Whatever, I’m picking her up today for what she wants to call a “date”. She literally said she wanted me to pull her hair.” 

Jake gasps, offended.

“What the fuck? She said she wanted to pull my hair!” He groans. “Why am I the one she thinks would like that?! I have a big dick! I could–”

“Anyway,” Jay cuts him off. “She really is just like her sister. Heeseung doesn’t even know how I’ve seen his precious girlfriend’s pussy, only a matter of time before I’m seeing her little sister’s too.” 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, ignoring Jake’s huffing and puffing as he does his best not to laugh at Jay’s almost victory over your sister. 

“Well, I’m getting the girl this time.” He says, opening his texts and reading through the presumed masturbation session he shared with you last night. “Said she couldn’t wait to see me.” 

“I’m sure she could though.” Jay says, competitive, wanting to win. “You’ll see.”

Sunghoon can sense the competition in the air, knowing that Jay is probably coming up with some lame ass plan to get in your pants before he can even get the chance to pick you up tonight. 

And then there’s Jake.

“You know, maybe she’s right.” He rambles on, thinking hard about how your dynamic with the other two seems to differ greatly from the way you speak to him. “I do have better hair than both of you combined.”

And they stay like that, roasting each other while simultaneously lusting over the same girl until Heeseung gets online and pings them in the regular group chat for a round of gameplay. 

“What’s up, virgins?” Heeseung greets, booting up his game and noting the silence in the voice chat. 

“I said, what’s u–” 

“We heard you.” Sunghoon chimes in, preparing himself for a direct mission of humbling the fuck out of him. “Call me a virgin all you want, doesn’t change the fact that I’m getting my dick wet tonight.” 

“Please.” Heeseung laughs, rolling his eyes as he waits for them to get into the game lobby. “Who would stick your dick in them anyway?” 

“Your girlfriend’s little sister.” Sunghoon announces. 

Excuse me?

“In your dreams.” Heeseung tries to laugh, but is interrupted yet again by his two other friends laughing first. “Wait, you’re serious?” 

Sunghoon hums a confirmation, which leads Heeseung to wonder what the fuck happened in the span of one single night. He could have sworn he had you in the palm of his hand on that couch. He knew you heard how good he fucks your sister. 

There’s no way. 

“Nah, she’s already got a crush on someone else.” He continues to brush Sunghoon off. “And it’s not you.”

“Yeah, because it’s me.” Jay laughs, bombarding Heeseung with another low blow. “Why else would she take her shorts off for me?”

Anger? Yes. Jealousy? Also yes.

“Bullshit.” Heeseung calls out, staring at his discord and the way his friend’s names light up every time they laugh.

 “What are they trying to do, Jake? Spill.”

Jake silences his laughing. 

“Oh, you think he didn’t get nudes too?” Jay laughs harder. “She sent them to all three of us last night. Different pictures too, she wasn’t skimping on the goods, I can tell you that much.”

Heeseung takes a moment to breathe through his nose. “And just why did she send you nudes?”

“I didn’t even ask for them, Hee, honest!” Jake tries to get on his good side. “I guess showing her my dick did something for her though.” That did not get him on Heeseung’s good side. 

“Why the fuck  is she sending you guys nudes?” He asks again, this time slightly raising his voice. 

You should have been sending him nudes to prove your insatiable lust that you must have. Right? Like, why not him? If anyone? 

“Oh, right.” Sunghoon finally reveals the truth. “First person to fuck her wins.” 

“Is that so?” Heeseung leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with narrowed eyes at their stupid usernames. 

Competition is what he’s best at. 

“Yeah.” Sunghoon confirms. “And by the end of the night, I’ll be the winner.” 

“That’s what he thinks, anyway.” Jay snickers. “She’s already texted me a cute little good morning like she didn’t sext three guys last night.” 

“Mhm.” Jake hums into the mic. “Me too.”

Sunghoon tilts his head in confusion at that, now checking his phone and noting that he hasn’t received his own good morning from you yet. Weird. 

“You guys are aware that you can’t do that, right?” Heeseung chimes in, knowing that he’s playing their game now. And he’s good at playing games. “You seriously can’t be trying to rail my girlfriend’s sister.”

“Yeah. We are, actually.” Jay overtakes the conversation. “Besides, she wants it.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You wake up feeling insanely embarrassed by how you acted like night. 

Tonight’s date with Sunghoon probably won’t happen. There’s no way you can live up to the confidence you showed him. 

You: hey can we raincheck?

Sunghoon: no wtf? 

He reacts negatively, because his victory is now being ripped from his hands by the prize herself. It’s not even just like, the fact that he wants to fuck you just to say he did it before anyone else could. It’s the fact that you’re kind of cool. Incredibly hot, and super willing to slut yourself out. 

Just his type. He loves being able to tame girls and keep them locked between his legs, with his cock in their throat. 

You: sorry i just don’t feel good today, can try this weekend? 

Sunghoon sighs, sending you a short approval before focusing back on the intense game playing out on his screen. 

“She canceled on me.” Sunghoon complains, shooting a player dead between the eyes before crouching and running off to find his next kill of frustration. “Jay, what did you fucking do?”

Jay snorts, smirking on his end of the screen, camping like an asshole in a bathroom and waiting for some unsuspecting dad of six to run by and get his cheeks clapped by some idiot with the username of DADDYJAY02. 

“Told her I’d fuck her real good if she cancels.” He jokes, mostly focused on the current game at hand.

Heeseung is pleased to learn that you’re skipping the date though, leading him to believe that maybe he was right in thinking he’s got you in the palm of his hand. 

Still doesn’t change the fact that you’ve got nudes in your phone. Nudes that you sent to three fucking losers that couldn’t even come close to doing what he could do for you. 

“He’s talking shit. She hasn’t left her room all morning.” Heeseung says. “I already told you guys that she has a crush on someone, and it’s not any of you. So, you can go ahead and kiss your bullshit sex-game goodbye.”

Jake pipes in now, listening to the sheer amount of confidence coming from Heeseung and Jay.

“I dunno.” He breathes, picking people off one by one in his own, less-than-great playstyle. “She’s still texting me and being all cute. Maybe she just thinks you guys are weird.” 

“What did she say?” Heeseung asks, now more focused on what Jake might say rather than the fact that Jay just got downed and needs help. 

“Something about how she feels embarrassed about everything but likes talking to me, heart emoji and all.” He says in a nonchalant tone, now being downed himself in game. “Me and Jay are down.”

“Stay down then.” Heeseung scoffs, ignoring both dying friends as he focuses on the win. 

“Dude, fucking pick me up.” Jay now argues, throwing his hands up at the gameplay, watching Heeseung blatantly run straight past him. “Heeseung! Pick me the fuck up!” 

He snickers in response. 

“Stop trying to fuck her and I’ll pick you up.” 

“I’d rather die.” Jay argues back, accepting his in-game death and instead pulling his phone out to text you. “In fact, I’ll text her right now.”

Sunghoon, listening to the chaos and still neck-to-neck in terms of kills with Heeseung, tries to ignore the fact that he’s losing the only game he cares about winning right now. 

“All three of you are starting to get annoying.” Sunghoon mumbles into the microphone, killing the last remaining player and stretching his arms out in a sigh.

“You’re just mad because she’s ghosting you for me.” Jake sings out happily.

Heeseung listens, seething in his head about how they’re really just gonna keep doing this shit and decides, fine. 

He’s already playing the game they’re playing. He’s been playing it for much longer, actually, with those panties he took from your dresser when he built it. With the way he placed your bed against the same wall his bed is against, just so you could listen and suffer for his cock to stuff you full instead. 

If it’s a fucking competition they want, they’re gonna get it. 

And with that? He logs off without so much as a goodbye before heading to his bathroom. For the first time in years caring more and more about how he dresses and carries himself just to see you want him. 

He styles his hair, brushes his teeth, perfects his hair with the hood up on his hoodie, and then heads straight to your room. 

“Hey, Sunghoon said he’s supposed to be going on a date with you tonight.” He says as soon as he gets to your door.

You look panicked.

“Oh, he told you?” You say, avoiding eye contact with him because goddamn does he look good today but also, what the fuck Sunghoon?! 

“Yeah.” He answers in a less than entertained tone. 

“Did he–” You pause, now looking at him and his stupid attractive stance against your door. “–say anything else?” 

“Oh, he told me all about it.” He admits to you now, loving the way you curl into your own embarrassment. “I did warn you, you know.”

You blink at him, wanting to hide from the entire situation. Especially because the only reason you went for his friends was because he got you all choked up. 

“Still, I thought you’d tame yourself a little bit. I mean– Jay too? Really?” Heeseung starts to pick you apart with the information he’s learned today. “And Jake?”

You groan out, covering your face with both hands. 

“God, I don’t know what I was thinking.” You try to explain. “I just–”

“You were wet.” He answers for you, smiling at the way you try to run from the truth. “So wet for me that you ran to my friends?” 

Only now do you move your hands from your face and look at him. Shocked that he got straight to the point, and is entirely correct.

“You got their hopes up, you know.” He continues, taking control of the situation as he crosses his arms and leans his head back and against your doorframe. “Right after getting my hopes up.” 

“What are you–” 

“You know what I’m talking about, and you know exactly what I’m doing.” He cuts you off, speaking for you, thinking for you, not letting you get a word in to doubt a single thing he’s saying. “You know what you’re doing too. So, look at me next time I come in here and call you out on your bullshit.”

Your eyes stay on him, full of embarrassment and a sense of guilt. You feel scolded, which is so fucking wrong and weird for it to come from him of all people. 

“Time to stop pretending now, babe. If you want this–” He says, looking down between his legs and grabbing his bulge. “You’ll stay away from my friends.” 

And then he just…leaves with a smile? Doesn’t even let you respond? 

“I’m going to the store, we don’t have shit to eat in this house.” You hear him complain as he walks down the hallway, acting as if he didn’t just word-fuck you with the truth that you weren’t quite ready to accept. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’re losing it. Truly, you’re losing every ability in your body to ignore the fact that you not only think about Heeseung in ways you shouldn’t, you want him in ways that should be a fucking crime.

Seeing him grab himself like that in your doorway? Fuck, if he hadn’t of walked away right after, you very well may have found yourself with your ankles up by your ears, begging him to use it on you. 

No self restraint at this point, and you don’t even care. 

Your phone is long forgotten as you pace your room, wondering if you should leave the house too, just to find a sex shop that has a Heeseung sized and shaped cock for you to fuck yourself on in order to get this intense feeling of need out of you. 

That’s really all it took for him to make you go fucking feral for it? A little bit of flirting? A little bit threatening? A grab of his cock, practically dangling it in front of you like the two of you are allowed to be having those kinds of moments together? 

Fuck him for knowing how to get you horny more than you know how to do it yourself. Since when did you like men to act that way towards you? Since fucking when did you get off on a boyfriend that your sister intends to fucking marry?!

It’s so fucked up, and it’s equally fucking hot to you because it’s fucked up. 

Out of everything your sister has that you don’t, Heeseung is the one you want most. And he’s just fucking…he’s just–

God damn it. You sigh, pacing back and forth, checking the time on your phone and ignoring all of your unread texts. Heeseung has only been gone for a total of ten minutes and it feels like you’ve been pacing for hours.

Throbbing between your legs at the small glimpses of his size under whatever pants he wears. With his hair, and his skin, and his stupid, shit-eating smirk that he throws at you. Telling you he knows. Showing you that he likes it. 

You stop your pacing for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut tight to try and flutter the images of him out of your head. Trying to get the reality to come back to you. 

What’s fucked up is that it is reality that he’s doing this to you. You can’t avoid it like it’s a guilty little wet dream you’d be able to hide. 

It’s real.

And, well, fuck it. You love your sister just as much as you always have, even as you want to fuck her boyfriend. Even as her boyfriend seemingly wants to fuck you.

Even as you leave your room, entering their room for the first time. 

Even as you inspect their bed, the placement suspiciously right on the other side of your own bed against the wall. 

Even as you smell the familiar scent of Heeseung on one of the pillows and instantly throw yourself on the bed against it, shoving it between your legs in a desperate and obvious show of how much you really, really, fucking want it. 

And if this is what it feels like to lose your fucking mind? So be it. 

His pillow is soft, offering little pressure to your clit as you writhe against it, but you moan louder than you ever have while pleasuring yourself. For once, the house is empty and for once, you have a point of arousal that doesn’t involve porn.

Your mind falls into images of him, and the way he moves his body during every day instances. Then, to the way he sounded when he fucked your sister in this very same bed. He must fuck hard, because that consistent thumping on your wall seemed to prove it already. 

Fuck, you hope he fucks hard. 

You saw the outline of it a few times by now too, so big even while flaccid and uninterested in you. He must know how to contain himself too. Real calm, real collected when it comes to how he’d probably use it. 

The images swim up and down behind your eyes as you writhe your clit against the corner of his pillow for what feels like ages, knowing your panties are being pushed into the folds of your wet core, feeling your shorts skew as you move, back and forth, stretching with each grind forward. 

You’re aware that parts of your pussy are out in the open between grinds, feeling the soft material of his pillow rub you only slightly raw with the force of your movements, and you simply don’t care. You’re home alone, remember? 

Wait. How long have you been doing this again?

“Oh, fuck yeah.” You hear from behind you, startling you into a defensive position of curling around the pillow. “Bumping it real good, weren’t you? Right up on my pillow?” Heeseung laughs, standing just inside of the room with a step much quieter than he’d normally have when he’s walking around. 

“Fuck, that’s so gross.”  He snickers with hooded eyes and a triumphant smirk as he crosses his arms. 

“You really thought I wouldn’t find out? Like I wouldn’t be able to smell it? I smelled you when I walked in.”

God, the fucking horror that replaces the arousal hits you harder than you ever knew it could as you jump to your feet on buckled knees and try to mutter out an apology.

“I’m sorry.” 

He just said you were gross. He said he could smell you while scrunching his nose. 

“I’m sorry, Heeseung, I’m sorry.” You continue, trying to make your way past him ultimately so you can lock yourself in your bedroom to never come out. 

“Hmm, what makes you think you could just come in here and fuck my things?” He isn’t going to let you go that easy, of course he isn’t.

The thing about him is, he knows he’s got you now. That little sex bet going with his friends? They’re done for.

 Full control of the whole situation is right here in the palm of his hand, and the proof is that embarrassing wet spot you left on his pillow. This was all he needed. You made him chase, and he’ll be damned if he gives you what you want now so easily. 

It’s your turn to ache with the same feeling between your legs. You’re going to be fucking gone by the time he finally gives it to you. 

“I thought y–” You try to explain, not looking him in the eye when he holds you in place by the arm from leaving. 

“Thought I wanted you over her?” He mutters to you in a hot whisper, pulling you back and against him, dipping his head and chasing your line of sight to force you to look at him. “Oh my god, how sad.” 

You try look away, entirely confused, embarrassed, fucking ashamed. 

Never have you let guilt take you over like this because you’ve never allowed yourself to be in a position to feel so goddamn stupid.

He’s going to tell her what you did. You might as well go pack your shit now and get ready to go back home because this was not okay. 

“I’m sorry. I misread…” You’re being forced to look at him, but you still keep your eyes on the bottom of his chin rather than his eyes, feeling his hands squeeze you, not at all noticing how rock fucking hard he is due to the sheer terror you feel at this moment.

“Mm, no you didn’t.” He explains, eyes scanning over your flushed face, tears prickling in your eyes. 

And once again, fucking confusion. The weight of guilt lifts off of you at his words, allowing you to look him straight in the eyes this time. Urging him to tell you that he does want you. That everything you thought previously was true.

That he was trying to come onto you. 

“You were throwing your legs open for just anyone.” He lands the blow harshly, with his breath hitting you square in the forehead. “I just wanted to see if you were really as slutty as Jay said you were.”

A direct blow to any confidence you ever could have had walking around this house. 

You fell for it. Your sister is dating a piece of shit, and somehow you still find him so attractive. You still wish he was lying. 

You still wish he liked you, or wanted you on some level.

“God, such a cry baby too.” He rolls his eyes now, breathing in deep before releasing his hold on you. “Go cry in your room, I’m sure you still have an orgasm to get, don’t you?” 

You refuse the eye contact again as you try to walk away in a way that you wish could make you disappear. He’s making damn sure to shame you straight into the dirt, and it makes you feel so unclean. 

“Don’t you?” He repeats with a louder voice as you walk away, stepping into your room, and closing the door behind you.

Yeah, you’re still probably going to get that orgasm. He knows it. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Heeseung is a nightmare to be around. You’re annoyed that you didn’t notice it before and actually wanted to be around him before that mishap with his pillow. 

You can’t read him. 

When your sister is home, he ignores you for the most part. He spends his time on his PC yelling with friends, he scoffs at you, looks at you like you look and sound ridiculous any time you say something, yet, when he’s with your sister, he’s so, so, loving. 

All over her, really. Hands on her waist, back, thighs, ass. He’s so sexual with her in front of you, to the point that you can’t make eye contact at all with either of them. 

To the point that you miss it every time when he checks to see if you’re watching. 

What’s worse about Heeseung is that you think now that he has no interest in you. Everything he did really was for an ego boost, or like some shitty game he was playing. It got to the point that, yeah, you’re sexting at least one of his friends as often as possible despite never giving them a reason to come over, and certainly not going to see them yourself. 

It’s like a bandaid as you lay in your bed night after night listening to Heeseung on the other side of the wall draw you into a state of lust, pining, and absent passion. So vocal, when he’s fucking her.  You always feel alone when he does it, with your fingers slamming away and offering pleasure that never gets you there. You always come up short, never being able to get off. 

Even with all of that, he still flirts.

Which fucks you up even more. He’ll make you feel so awful about everything that’s happened, everything you actively say or do, and then turn around and smile at you when your sister is at work. 

He’ll offer to make dinner for you. He’ll do your laundry and fold it, always mixing his clothes into the pile by accident. He’ll touch your waist. He’ll brush his hand past yours when he catches you in the hallway while walking by. 

When you try to flirt back, or look at him for too long though? Hope in your eyes and weight lifting from your shoulders at his hidden actions? He shuts you down instantly. 

Like this morning, when you left your room and went to the kitchen to make coffee, he was already there. He came up behind you real close, rubbing what you presume to be his soft dick against your ass as he lifted and grabbed the filters down for you. 

And when you choked up and looked at him? He could see that little glint of hope in your eyes.

“I was just helping. Jesus christ, you’re more needy than your sister.” 

Or that time yesterday, when you were lounging on the couch and he came out after a shower in those same fucking sweat pants, without a shirt again, and sat down next to you. Spreading his legs wide, smirking, and watching you try to avoid his eyes. 

“Can’t even look at me without getting wet, huh?” 

Safe to say, Heeseung is playing the game with his friends a little too hard. Knowing that at any point during the day if he wanted to push you to the floor and take you, he fucking could. 

So that leaves you now, sitting here feeling about as crazy as you did the day you ran into his room and started fucking his pillow. Every day is felt with sexual frustration that you don’t know what to do with, even sexting his friends, even receiving their videos and hot words, even with their promises of multiple orgasms and hour long sessions of head, your frustration isn’t satiated.

You worry it never will be if Heeseung doesn’t move out, or like, fall out a window or something.

And as you leave your room to go back to the kitchen for a snack, of course you note the open door of the office that is far too silent compared to thirty minutes earlier. 

Of course, Heeseung has trained you to be entirely too curious about what he’s doing at all times when the two of you are alone.

Of course, you don’t turn and walk away the moment you see his back turned, shoulder moving, and a brightly colored hentai flashing across his monitor. 

In fact, you stand there solely because you can’t deny yourself of this.

“Was wondering if you’d come in here.” He mutters through a breath, turning his face for a moment before pumping his hand harder. “S’only fair that I let you watch too, right?”

He’s bringing up the pillow incident. Again. Like he hasn’t brought it up a million times since it happened as a form of shaming you. Telling you how it smelled, laughing and asking how many times you planned to do it behind his back. 

You’re still frozen though, coming to terms with the fact that he could call you an ugly whore and you’d probably accept it at face value just to watch the very scene in front of you.

Are you selfish or are you just desperate? 

Maybe a bit of both.

“Come over here.” He says to your silence, now swiveling his chair around and ignoring the animated fuck-fest on screen. 

You take in an inhale, trying not to show it by looking away from him, but ultimately failing when your eyes fall straight to where his hand is in his pants. The tent created by the sheer size of him leaving far too much for you to think about. 

Anyone in this situation would call him a loser. Jerking it to hentai? Looking the way he does? Being unemployed and doing this at like, eleven in the morning? You can tell he hasn’t slept too, and that’s entirely something a simp would do. Something a virgin would do.

But, you want him. You’ve never been so attracted to someone, actually. He sees you swallow at the image too, smirking and stilling his hand. 

“Shit, you’re really just going to watch me?” 

Yeah. You figured that was obvious to him, considering he already thinks you’re gross, embarrassing, and shameless. It’s not like you not watching at this point would change his mind about you. 

So, you just stand there, watching, waiting.

Until he gives you a breathless chuckle and a shake of his head. 

“Come on, get a better look then.” He encourages you through a soft moan, sliding his fingers on the underside of his length, feeling the pre-cum drip out. 

There it is again. Him acting interested. 

It’s really the worst because you give in every single time, clinging to the hope that maybe he really is interested this time, only to be shot down time and time again. 

Right now is no different from the countless other times he’s flirted just to laugh at you trying to flirt back. Even as you walk towards him with shaking hands gripping the bottom of your own shirt for comfort, you know he’s probably just going to pull his hand out of his pants and probably present a very large cucumber or something before laughing at the fact that you really thought. 

Except, he doesn’t do that. 

You can see the wet spot at the top of the tent his cock creates, right where the head rubs up against the fabric and it proves that he’s really touching himself right now.

“Lower.” He instructs under hooded eyes, head leaned back against his chair, body slouched and relaxed. “On the floor.”

Ah, the fucking power he has is electrifying. You really just do everything he says in the hopes that someday, he’ll put it in you. In the hopes that someday, he will show you what it is that your sister loves so much about him. 

The way you do lower yourself to your knees on his floor, sitting right there in front of him with your eyes glued to the hidden act of what he’s doing to himself? God, you’re dirty.

He chews on his lower lip as he works himself up to the image of you simply on your knees, gripping your shirt like it’s the only thing holding you from falling off of the earth. So pretty, so complacent, so willing. 

Fuck, he knows his friends want you and he can imagine that they must furiously get off to this very image themselves, thought up all by themselves. Except they’ve actually seen your body, Heeseung hasn’t seen shit.

“Take it off.” He says through a breath, the words shaking with each pump of his fist as he tries to stimulate the whole length of his cock without pulling it out. 

It’s a tight fit in his pants right now, but he isn’t going to show you a damn thing. 

You blink up at him, your eyes shining and bright at the fact that you’re fine not seeing it. You seem totally satisfied just watching him pleasure himself. 

Oh god, you’re fucking perfect. 

Even more perfect when you do remove your shirt, tits sitting nice and naked for him to stare at harder. Big. Plush. Prettier than the ones that are drawn to perfection by horny men on his screen just to the side of him. Prettier than your sister’s, even. 

“Ah, yeah.” He comments, hand pumping faster, cock leaking more. “Just sit right there and look pretty for me.”

And, you do. Hands now pressed into the carpet beneath you, gripping the texture much like you did your shirt just to press your tits together for him. Just so he wants you right now, even if he won’t ten minutes from now. 

He really does just watch you too. The image of you alone like this seemingly just enough to get him there when you notice his head slam back against the headrest of his chair again.

Bottom lip bitten, eyebrows raised, a held breath, and then he’s releasing that same breath along with his cum. All into his hand and against his pants as he pumps harder through the sensitivity of his orgasm. 

Eyes falling back to you, darker this time, he smirks as he slides his hand from his pants, careful not to lose any of that thick, milky, cum, and tipping his fingers at you. 

“Ahh-” He opens his mouth, speaking to you as if he’s feeding you a snack, and for some reason, you mimic it.

Your mouth opens as you lean forward and he slips his fingers in, relishing in the feeling of your frantic tongue licking up the taste of him.

So desperate, god, you want it so bad and he can see it.

He can feel it. 

And by the time you’ve licked his fingers clean, eyes tearing up because you know he’s about to mock you for how much you loved the taste of it, he pulls his hand back and says nothing.

He doesn’t even smile at you when he stands up, staring down at you like he owns you. 

You’re just sitting on the floor shirtless, avoiding his eye contact and preparing for whatever fucked up thing he wants to say about it, salty sweet remnants of his flavor in your mouth, and near tears in your eyes. 

“You really did that.”  He says before stepping to the side of you and heading for the door. “Swallowed all of it too.”

You did, and of course you’re ashamed despite sitting here wet and aching. You nod as you stare at the floor in shame, hands clasped in your lap.

“Good girl.” He breathes out to you before leaving for the bathroom, not another word muttered to you.

And as Heeseung stands looking at himself in the mirror, chest heaving as he reels from what just took place, he smiles. God, the horror you must feel right now. If you knew how much he liked this and how willing you were to take what you can get, you’d probably be the happiest girl alive. 

You’re so willing to feel ashamed, so willing to be shamed, just to look at him? Just to see him do this? Just to suck all of his cum off of his fingers? 

You’re fucking crazy. 

If you knew how he silently jerked off, breathing in that pillow you had against your pussy, you’d probably orgasm on the spot. If you fucking knew how he stole your panties the very day you moved in, you’d probably give him the ones you’re wearing now just to please him. 

Ah, so perfect. It’s only a matter of time now.

Only a matter of time before he wins and shuts his friends up for fucking good, because honestly, it’s getting old now to hear his friends pretend they have a shot at this with you.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Living with your sister became something you never meant for it to be. You’re not living with her, you’re living with fucking guilt, and confusion, and insatiable lust for the man she’s supposed to be pleasing every night. 

In fact, the amount you see her is far less than you originally thought. She works so much, and when she’s not working overtime just to come home and love on her asshole of a boyfriend, and tell you sweet goodnights like you didn’t eat his cum off his fingers, she’s sleeping away the exhaustion of being the only good person in this house. 

Unfortunately for her though, you don’t care.

You appreciate the freedom she’s given to you on a silver platter, with a nice new bedroom suite and good food in the fridge, but you know she didn’t bring you here with the intention of giving you this much freedom.

She gave you the ability to fuck and be fucked whenever and where ever you want, but the choice wasn’t meant to be Heeseung. With his ever changing moods, annoying gamer rage, and disconcerting need to flirt and shame you. 

You can’t believe you’re sitting here across from her before yet another one of her shifts, drinking the same juice, eating the same breakfast, pretending like you haven’t tasted the same cum she has. 

You can’t believe that while growing up, you always shared her stuff against her will. She hated finding you wearing one of her favorite tops, or her new pairs of shoes. She would get so mad and all you can think now is that, surely she would kill you if she found out what else you’ve used behind her back.

And when you watch Heeseung kiss her goodbye, he seems all too entertained with the situation. Watching you pretend like you don’t want him, watching your sister be blissfully unaware of who his dick twitches for.

  Watching, watching, watching. 

Staring, really, at you through the kiss. Up until she leaves for the day and you’re left staring back at him. Heeseung lends you a small wave with an uncaring face, wiggling the same fingers he fucked your mouth with in your face, almost seeming like he’s attempting to lure you to open those same lips again for him.

Almost as if to remind you that you’re pathetic. 

And goddammit. You fucking are.

That’s why, of course, you’ve found yourself time and time again in these same text messages. Fully guilty of leading these guys on but not nearly as guilty as you feel each time you show how bad you need it to the one man who doesn’t deserve it. 

Jay, if he could, would probably fuck you right on the doorstep by this point with the amount of nudes, phone calls, and blatant shows of sexual interest. You can sense how annoyed he is with cumming all by himself using your photos, but like, that’s very attractive of him to wait.

Sunghoon? So frustrated with you for never following up with him, but entirely willing to fuck you with his dirty words and images of what he’d love to do if you’d just get the fuck out of the house for a day.

And Jake, ah, Jake. The cutest. One you’d take all of this frustration out on, the one who would probably apologize to you for everything bad that’s ever happened to you mid-orgasm solely because he wouldn’t know what else to say or do when he’s feeling so good.

Sexting any of them, or all of them, is really your only relief from the man who looms around this house. But at this point, even that is doing nothing for you.

Even as you read Jay’s texts, knowing he’s actively playing video games at the same time and not jerking off like he claims. 

Jay: take a new one, i want more material 

You: you’re not even touching yourself, you know I can hear heeseung yell at you right?

Jay: what? you think I can’t multitask? 

You: is that why he’s yelling then? 

Jay: one handing it and still got more kills than him, yea

God, he’s too confident while being such a fucking loser, but yeah, you’ll send him a new picture. You’ll go ahead and send it to Jake too. And Sunghoon, of course.

Then you pause with your fingers on the screen, zooming in on your body and checking it. Only half wondering what would happen if you took a pussy picture. Only half thinking of sending it to Heeseung. Not the other three, just him.

Half wondering turns to full wondering, as you listen to him yell something about Jay going down again mid match, proving that he probably was, in fact, fucking his fist mid-game and absolutely not getting more kills.

Heeseung’s voice sounds so full of anger. So loud, cracking in pitch even. It’s hard to imagine someone sounding so stupid being able to act in a way that’s made you feel so lost and ashamed of wanting him. 

Yet, he did. And that’s why you decide right at this moment, you’ll always give in to his flirting even while knowing he’ll mock you and make fun of you for it. You’ve already dealt with it to the point that you’re used to it. At least you still get something out of it, right? 

At least, maybe, he’ll give you something else to feel ashamed of today, right? 

And as you take that photo, lying back on your bed, shifting your panties to the side and spreading your lips open for the camera, you snap a photo of your hole for him. Right there, already wet just imagining him thinking you’re pathetic for doing this. 

At this point, you’re not feeling too ashamed of it right now. After all, he jerked off looking at you like there wasn’t at least three holes being fucked and filled on the screen behind him before. So…

You send the photo to him, ignoring the displayed message from Jay stating, “you only sent this one to me, right?” 

And then you wait. 

And you wait.

And wait.

You can still hear Heeseung yelling his gaming talk, but you watch his text messages like a hawk. Feeling nervous, terrified, embarrassed, shamed, turned on, curious, wet.

Each time he’s silent, you stare at the messages, up until you notice that he’s opened it. 

He saw it.

You wait for footsteps, you wait to hear him tell his friends that he’ll be back. You wait for him to stomp in here and call you gross. 

And you wait more.

And more. 

Up until you can’t wait any longer and you find yourself shifting up and off of your bed, leaving your phone behind as you make your way to the office. He’s facing away from you as usual, the character on screen on a swivel as the scope of the gun searches for a head to shoot, and then– his phone.

Right there beside him, open, the image pulled up. 

“What are you trying to do?” He says, but you can’t tell if it’s for you or his friends. 

You stand there, pussy looking much the same as it was in that photo, except now with your shorts back on you, and panties back in place. 

“Trying to fuck me over right now?” He continues when a kill screen shows up and he’s got a few seconds to lift his hand from the mouse. Not even looking at you, he beckons you with two fingers and pushes his chair back just slightly.

By the time you get up beside him, he puts his fingers over his mouth, glancing up at you, then down at his phone and tapping it. Immediately after tapping, he points to the floor in front of him, scooting back more to make room for you.

The silent conversation is loud as he narrows his eyes at you when you sink to your knees on the floor in front of him. You crawl under the desk, legs quivering at the idea that he’s absolutely ignoring you, but also inviting you. 

As if he’s feeding you what you want. As if he doesn’t need this too. 

And maybe he doesn’t, you think, as you carefully reach forward to his knees, feeling him push his chair in and trap you under the desk. He doesn’t look hard, proving that he’s simply allowing you to quench your thirst for his cum, surely. 

Allowing you to be pathetic. 

Allowing you to see it. 

And finally, you do. He’s even polite enough to lift his ass up a bit just to let you pull his sweats down to get it out. Slowly growing at the feeling of your breath against it. 

You breathe deeply before you press your lips against it instantly, darting your tongue out curiously and closing your eyes to relish in the first taste of his skin. It’s a clean taste, and despite him not being fully hard for this just yet, it only drives you to do better, to do more, until he actually wants you to do this for him, not just for you. 

You could argue that it seemed much bigger when he was jerking it off in front of you, then again, he’s still not fully hard yet. 

It actually hurts your feelings that you’re the one needing to get him horny right now. After all, you are clearly hungry for it, not him.

And you take him into your mouth again, and again, feeling him stiffen by the second. Still, his focus isn’t on you or what you’re doing down here. 

Until it is, anyway. 

By this point, you’re actually struggling to take him into your mouth, and you can argue he’s only at half-girth as you try. The top of your head bumps his desk every few seconds, which forces you to keep him in your mouth. 

Kind of terrifying actually, to have put something in your mouth so readily only to regret the fact that his cock is essentially locked in by the small pace you’re trapped in, and it’s only swelling up more and more by the second. 

Hardening until your throat is constricting around it, forcing you to gag and search for breath.

It’s hard to breathe as you cough and drool around him, frantically trying to pull off of him and hitting your head hard against the desk when you do.

He fucking chuckles at it before you feel his hand slip under the desk with you and grab his now fully hard cock. What does he do with it? He fucking slaps it straight across your face before forcing it right back between your lips. 

You hate to say how wet that made you, and you hate even more to say that you kind of like the feeling of your throat getting bruised. Willing yourself to gag around him again, trying to twitch your tongue against the weight of his far too big length in your mouth. 

You don’t want him to laugh though, you want him to fucking moan. All for his friends to hear. After all, it’s the first time you’re going down on him and it’ll probably be the last time too, right?

Not to mention, you’ve barely had experiencing sucking dick as it is, he should he fucking helping you get through this.

But he’s not. He’s just…playing his fucking game. Hell, the twitches of his length against your gag reflex is probably more for the kill he gets rather than the way your dripping spit all over and down his balls. 

This is embarrassing, and yet– you love it. You fucking adore it, with the way your clit aches just at the thought that he’s letting you put your mouth on him at all.

Maybe it really is for you, and not for him. 

“Ah, fuck.” Heeseung groans, probably more to his game than to you.

His hand shoots under the table, right to the top of your head as his other balances himself on the seat of his chair. There, he holds your head down on him and angles his hips just slightly to fuck up. Gaging you repeatedly, holding back his own moans at the way you’re just going to let him use you like this.

And as quickly as it happened, that short grunt from him not going unnoticed, he’s drawing his hands back above his desk, relaxing his body, and giving back the control. 

Already, you can hear his fingers against the keyboard again.

“Back in the game, Jay, to the right!” He shouts, showing you that he absolutely just fucked your face because he got fucking downed in the game. 

And you continue, trying to give him that same feeling that he forced on you just now, and never quite getting the same force behind your lips or tongue for him. His cock is throbbing though, choking you with each dribble and spurt of precum, up until he’s pulling the same trick.

Fucking up, holding your throat down on him, for just a bit until he’s back in the game and playing.

This happens for what feels like forever. To the point that surely, you’re drenching the carpet under you, and you’re starting to feel insecure in the fact that he hasn’t cum yet. Are you really just…bad at giving head?

Heeseung’s legs shift as you continue, slowing your pace and trying to rub your jaw through it with your free hand that’s not gripping the fabric of his lowered sweats. You do this up until his cock is suddenly sliding further and further out of your throat when he rolls his chair back. 

Ah. 

Oh.

Oh, my god. You think, getting the first glimpse of his face since you started. Blown out pupils staring down under his desk, hair a mess, mic right up against his smirking lips. 

He looks…like he enjoyed it? Maybe? Are you getting ahead of yourself?

“You want more?” He asks, straight into the mic and confusing his friends. “I can see how much you want it, baby, come on. I’ll give it to you.”

You stare up at him, pretending that when you crawl out from under the desk and try to stand, you can’t hear the way he turns up the volume of his friends responding in confusion. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You hear the familiar voice of Sunghoon. “If you’re gonna fuck your girlfriend, at least mute yourself, dick.” 

You nervously glance to his game that’s still full screened. You knew he was gaming with his friends since this morning, but for him to talk to you like this as if they can’t hear him? 

“They’ll want to hear you.” He comments now, alerting his friends that he’s obviously not talking to them. “Trust me, they don’t fucking shut up about you.” 

That’s when they realize.

“No fucking way.” Jake blurts. “There’s no way.”

Jay remains silent, staring at his unanswered text message before minimizing his game and dropping his mouth in surprise.

“Come on then, you already let me fuck that pretty mouth, might as well, right?” He says to you again, this time lifting his hips and tapping his desk. “Bend over for me.” 

What you think is just an unmuted mic, unfortunately, is much, much more than that. You see, Heeseung likes to stream to his friends, back and behind his full screened game was the image of him suffering through your need to deep throat him half to death.

He remained calm, at first not exactly wanting his friends to know. Not wanting them to see you like this, and most certainly not wanting them to have any images of you to get off to. But now? Oh, to win their own game in front of them? 

‘Fuck, look at that.” He says, watching you take the spot in front of him and bend over his desk, keyboard buttons pressing in and glitching the screen out momentarily due to your tits lying against it. “Now look up.” He instructs. 

“No. Fucking. Way.” Jake blurts again once he minimized his game and instantly saw you on the camera, looking so out of it, so unaware. “Sunghoon, are you seeing this?”

Jay was still watching with his mouth agape, cock leaking as it always does for you except now?  It’s the fact that Heeseung is really just gonna do something so awful to your sister? He’s really  going to fuck you right here, right now? With proof?!

“Heeseung, don’t.” Sunghoon warns, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen in front of him. 

“Don’t what? Sunghoon?” Heeseung smiles as he reaches his hands around the front of you, pulling you back by groping both of your tits. “Fuck your girl in front of you?”

You just listen, shocked that Sunghoon is actually asking Heeseung to stop. Shocked that they apparently have beef or something, over you? Surely not. 

“No–” Sunghoon chokes back. “Don’t turn off the camera.” 

“Camera?!” You panic, trying to break free of his grip on your chest, but he holds you there, pressing you closer with your back to his chest, his cock throbbing under your thigh. 

“What? Now you have an issue with cameras?” Heeseung seethes sarcastic words into your hair, squeezing your tits harder now. “Relax, baby, I know they’ve already seen you like this.” 

“Right?” Heeseung now directs his attention to the screen, lunging forward to quickly minimize the full-screened game, getting a good look at his friends and you in the camera against him. 

The image is wildly attractive to him for many reasons. For one, he can see himself on the screen with his point of desire sitting right here on his lap. Secondly, his friends are awestruck by what he gets to have right now. Shamelessly watching, biting their words back, taking in deep breaths. And lastly, he can tell that everyone on camera right now either wants to be him or be fucked by him.

What’s not to love about this? 

And Heeseung is quick when he flashes his eyes away from each of his friends, straight to you in the camera, watching you avoid looking at the screen. He moves one hand from your chest, pushes his chair back, and immediately cups between your legs. 

“You show them this too, or was that just for me?”

You shake your head at Heeseung, reeling with embarrassment and arousal as you try to squeeze your legs closed around his hand. You feel choked up, throat sore, legs buckled, clit throbbing for him to dig his palm against it.

“Mm, you see that Jay?” Heeseung moves his eyes to his friend on screen. “Couldn’t even get her to show her pussy for you?” 

Jay appears entirely tuned into the situation, eyebrows sitting furrowed and focused on you. God, if only he focused that much in game, Heeseung thinks he could probably out rank him if he wanted to. 

“Jake?” Heeseung trails to his other friend, making sure each and every one of them hears and sees exactly what he’s doing. 

Your eyes follow the names Heeseung calls out. Shyly, somewhat dazed. Tearing your eyes from Jay was already hard enough as is. After all, seeing his blatant attraction to you right there, in front of everyone? Maybe you should have let him hit, even just once because damn. It’s almost pitiful, that look in his eye as he watches you. 

Jake on the other hand? You can tell he lets his hair fall partly in front of his eyes but he smiles to himself while watching. Something about seeing him like this makes you feel like you’ve just experienced extreme whiplash. It embarrasses you more knowing that you figured Jake was too inexperienced to know how to fuck a girl. He was too sweet. 

Too soft.

Too different from his friends.

As you look at him now though, you realize he isn’t different at all. In fact, he might have been more full of shit than any of the others as you stare at his wicked eyes and nod of approval at Heeseung. 

Hell, he’s even the one who mutters out a small, “Show us her tits.” 

The only reason Heeseung does as Jake asked is because he can’t help but relish in the look on their faces of seeing what they could have had, but now never will. To see them lose. To witness him win. 

They’re pathetic. Truly, when he drags your shirt up your belly and over your chest. Already braless, of course. And honestly, you’re shocked that they all react this way like you didn’t just send them tit pics but– 

This is more embarrassing somehow. Four pairs of eyes are on you and only one pair of hands. You want all of their hands. 

“I fucking knew you’d let me do this.” Heeseung chuckles against your ear, cupping his hands under your tits and presenting them to his friends. Bouncing them, rubbing them, pulling on both nipples before releasing them and letting your tits fall into their natural position. “Knew you were a slut the moment I saw the kind of panties you had hidden in that suitcase of yours.” 

You glance away from the camera now, knowing Heeseung is right with his words. 

“You should be fighting me, not dripping that pretty pussy all over me. Am I wrong?” 

You should be fighting. You shouldn’t be okay with this moment being broadcasted to three different people that you’ve been leading on. And yeah, you should hate him for all of the confusion and mental anguish he put you through. 

Yet, the arousal you have for him outweighs all of it. The arousal you have for this situation in general outweighs any shame you could feel, or the shame that comes after it. 

Being wanted like this by four men who you find incredibly attractive? 

“What more could a girl want?” You murmur in a hushed tone, rolling your hips just slightly on his lap, letting him feel the warmth of you seep into his sweatpants. His cock still hard and raging from your previous actions of choking on him.

Those words shock him as his eyes glance to the screen, noting how you’re writhing your body on him, totally shameless, totally fucking perfect with your tits out and on display, only pushing for more. It’s the fact that he fucking forgot he had his head set on for a moment and didn’t even catch that you whispered that shit straight into his mic. 

He only realized it when he saw three faces on screen drop to a slack jawed expression and Sunghoon immediately leaned forward with a groan of “spread her legs.” 

On any other day, for Heeseung, Jake, or Jay, seeing Sunghoon clearly push his pants down his thighs off camera would make them recoil and make fun of him. But they’re not right now, because the focus isn’t on any of the cocks being openly hard in this shared online space. 

The focus is on you, and the way Heeseung absolutely spreads your legs and pushes your knees up by the thighs so that the flat of your feet are resting on his knees. There, he drops his hands from your tits and reaches around you, rubbing the line of your shorts on the insides of your thighs just enough that glimpses of your panties flash every few seconds. 

From back here, the camera offers Heeseung the same view but it hits him differently because he’s the one doing it. He’s got his head resting on your shoulder as he watches, noting how you lean your head back against his own shoulder and breathe through his guided touches. 

“Look at yourself.” He turns his head to whisper right against your cheek. “You’d let us all take a turn, hm? Wouldn’t even know which dick is in you.”

Your eyes open in a roll, landing your gaze on the screen and feeling flushed at the image. You don’t care how embarrassing or pathetic you are for this. No, because, look at them. Everyone wants you to act like this. 

“Probably wouldn’t even care either, as long as you’re being fucked. Yeah, that’s right.” 

Nodding in a daze against him, you roll your hips harder, trying to bump his hand against your pussy, trying to prove to everyone that you have three holes and two hands for a reason. 

You don’t flinch when he slides his hands up the leg of your shorts either, pulling them to the side to reveal how wet you are to everyone. Listening to your body and the way it sings to him, brushing his knuckles against the swell of your clit, tapping the space where your hole sits and clenches to be seen. 

“Ah, fuck.” Jay finally lets out in a shaky breath, hand clearly still working himself because, well, he was half hard before you made an even appearance on camera. “It looks like she pissed herself–” 

Heeseung laughs as he drags his eyes to the image between your legs, so wet, entirely drenched through your nearly see-through panties at this point. Jay is right, it does look like you’ve pissed yourself, which only makes his cock throb more. That you’re so wet for him? So fucking drenched? God, he doesn’t even need lube with you.

You slick up so nice for him, it’s actually becoming painful not to test the stickiness, the slide it offers, the warmth. With this much pouring out of you, like you’ve already squirted, surely you could take all of him.

In an instant he pushes you from his lap, making you feel dizzy and light headed because suddenly you’re on your feet in front of him again. He gives you no time to balance yourself when he’s pulling your shirt up and off of you in a huffed out sigh, holding you in place by your tits to keep you from toppling over and breaking his monitor.  

And when you steady out, his hands run straight down, shoving your shorts and panties down in one go before immediately pulling you back to his lap, holding your arms behind you, and spreading his own legs to force yours open for his friends.

“Take a good, long, look.” Heeseung directs towards his friends, sliding his hand in front of you and using two fingers to present your hole to them. “If you think she’s pretty, let her know now.” 

It’s the way Heeseung moves his hand from behind you just to set his headset on your head now, quickly pinning your arms in place again and allowing you to listen to his friends do just that. 

Immediately, pussy spread and unintentionally clenching in the camera, one of your senses is enveloped with the sound of Jay’s palm shamelessly dragging up and down his hidden cock. Then, the sound of Jake and his deep inhales paired with slight cracked whines, just as shameless, doing much the same.

Then, Sunghoon.

Fucking Sunghoon. Barely moving, but more willing to talk to you with that headset on your head. 

“This why you didn’t come over?” He asks you blatantly in a breathy voice, glaring at the fingers of Heeseung holding your cunt open for him. “That could be me right now, but you’re really just going to fuck him? Of all people?”

You groan, lifting your head to give a proud nod and accidentally bumping Heeseung in the chin with the action. 

The bump forces him to bite his tongue, a metallic taste of the small amount of blood flooding his mouth mixed with saliva when he dips his head, grabbing you by the hair and forcing your mouth to his.

You can taste the blood too, when he presses his wet tongue past your lips without so much as swallowing the mixture first. Practically drooling and spitting into your mouth through the rough kiss. It feels like your drowning, kissing him back like you’ve always wanted to, tasting him in a new way now and moaning into it. 

Like a slut, really. Just fucking moaning. And he only forces more out of you too, as you feel him adjust his hands, holding you here on his lap, rough tongue bleeding against yours, sliding two fingers into you with one push. 

God, finally. Fucking, finally. 

Your mouth falls open in a sharp inhale of feeling his fingers, his lips turning to a smirk at hearing one of his friends audibly moan at the image on screen for them. You just showed how much of his saliva you were savoring, diluted red in the drool dripping down your chin through your moan.

You’re dirty, all four of them can see that much. But only Heeseung gets to feel it. 

His cock throbs at the image when he strains his eyes to the screen, plunging his fingers in, out, in, out, until he pulls them from you entirely, thrusting them into your open mouth instead. 

You squeal at the intrusion of his sudden fingers against your tongue, offering a third taste in your mouth. Yourself. 

“Mhm,” Heeseung encourages you. “Suck it up like you did for me the other day.”

You hear Jake gasp at the idea that you’ve already done this for Heeseung before, probably leading him to believe that Heeseung has also probably already fucked you.

And hell, with how it’s looking, none of them would be shocked if that were the case. 

“You’ve been doing this while talking to us?” Jake tries to confirm with you through a breathed sigh, groaning and unintentionally showing that he…wouldn’t mind. 

“God, I don’t even want to fuck you now.” Sunghoon on the other hand, isn’t so willing and lies, absolutely wanting to be the person fucking your lips with his fingers. “After Heeseung? Disgusting.” 

Oh, they think he’s fucked you already? 

You shoot your eyes open, trying to shake your head in a “no” at them but still suckling around his fingers. 

“Goddamn,” Heeseung grunts, rutting up against your back, letting his cock leave leaking little spots of his precum against your lower back. “Your sister would never act like this.” 

“You should be ashamed, but you love it.” He continues, talking, talking, talking. Shoving his fingers deeper, deeper, deeper. “Work that tongue like a good girl.” He continues to whisper from behind you before– 

You’re gagging. Feeling his fingers reach deep into your throat and press your tongue down to the point you’re forced to open your mouth wide. Exposing not only your finger-fucked pussy to his friends, but now your open and constricting throat. 

Sunghoon immediately regrets his insult at you, seeing how wide and open your throat can be. Gagging openly with very little sound as Heeseung compresses your tongue through it. 

You’re drooling again, eyes blinking up at the ceiling as if you could possibly find a way to drink away your tears. 

That’s about as much as Jay can take, gripping the base of his weeping length, willing it to stop threatening him with an orgasm before Heeseung really gets you looking pretty. He chokes up through the mic, and the sound runs straight through your body.

There, he watches you moan through an open and dry mouth, throat muscles tensing just to get the sound out. He grips harder, needing to pull his eyes away but struggling so hard to fucking do. 

“Shit, baby. Stop.” Jay calls through the microphone, forcing his friends eyes on him, yours included, as all of you watch him vibrate in his seat in an attempt not to cum. “Stop moaning.”

Heeseung hears him say it, and intentionally gags you again instead. Bumping his fingers at the back of your throat with a smile on his face. Glancing between all of his friends, seeing how pathetic they are for what he does to you. 

The fact that they’re sticking around at all? Both great and fucking embarrassing. Even more embarrassing than you. 

Then Heeseung focuses back on you, tears running down your pretty cheeks, mouth agape, throat struggling to adjust still to his fingers despite taking his cock like that’s the only shape or size it wanted. 

Ah, your body is so pathetically telling, and he grants you the release of another gag by sliding his fingers out of your mouth and straight back to your warm, pulsing, hole.

Right back in, one hole filled at all times it seems, as he feeds into the whiplash he’s able to give you. You didn’t even notice how he shoves you off of his lap until you can no longer see the screen in front of you and are face to face with his keyboard. No frustrated face of Jay, no forced calm and collected expression from Sunghoon, no blatantly bitten lips of Jake. 

No, only the feeling of Heeseung chasing your hole with his fingers, your hips running from the touch due to sensitivity and buckled knees. He holds you there against his desk, standing behind you and pressing his cock between your ass cheeks. Fingers roughly rubbing your clit, sliding down to fuck into you, then out again to rub you harder.

His friends watch you try to run your lower half away from him, but his eyes stay glued to the camera, as if he’s staring into the soul of his friends. 

“You guys wanna see me fuck her?” He comments in a sly tone, cock grinding against you. “I can fuck her.” 

“Ah, Hee–” You groan as a response, listening to the slapping of palms against cocks only grow more furious and finally relaxing your body to now search for his fingers, just to push yourself back on them. “Please.”

He snickers from behind you, grabbing a hand full of hair at the back of your head as he rips his fingers from your needy hole, wiping them along your cheek as he forces you to look at him. 

“Again.” He demands, now pinching your cheeks with one hand, arching your back more by the pull of your hair. ���Say, “Please, Seungie, fuck me.” He whispers into your mouth, loud enough for the mic to pick up the way you swallow around his words. 

“Say, “Please, Hee, give it to me.” He continues, making his voice higher pitched as if to mock your moans.

Sunghoon watches and listens in shock, never once wanting to know that this is how his own friend fucks someone, but goddamn. It’s like he’s just found the video on page 86 of pornhub that hit just right as he watches. Fucking up and into his fist like his life depends on it, waiting, waiting, waiting, for you to moan out just like Heeseung is telling you to. 

And it’s the fact that you fucking do, Heeseung watching the way Jake presses his entire body into his chair, staring down at himself with a fast moving palm, so fast that he can see his friend lose himself to the pleasure.

Jay, near tears in his eyes as he watches, probably moaning in your ear like a mad man right now. 

You fucking say it.

You say both, moaning in a choked gasp when you feel him stick his tip in you at it. 

“Please–” You hiccup as you try to repeat the words again and again for him. “God, yes.” You rasp out in a deeper tone at the feeling of him slide in. 

And he keeps sliding in, trying to keep himself from rolling his eyes back when he bottoms out and feels your cunt clench him as if you’ll never let it go.

And then, one quick thrust, holding your hair in his hands, arching you harder, his other hand reaching for yours and holding them behind your back, he fucks forward. 

Your tits bounce with the movement, neck strained to keep your eye on his face as you try to adjust to the full size of him entering you.

“She just takes it.” Heeseung grunts with a choked breath. “Shit, so goddamn tight.” He murmers again, nearly unable to stand on his own two feet how tight you are.

He forces you to look at him through it, squeezing your hands together so tightly through it that you can barely focus on the pain of your positioned body against the feeling of his cock splitting you open with each hard thrust. 

And then, you let out the most filthy, wet, pornographic cry. 

Heeseung then brings his attention to his monitor one last time, watching the pathetic mess of people in front of him getting off entirely on his cock driving into you. 

“I win.” He says with one pointed thrust, keeping his hips pressed against your ass and only pressing in harder, trying to reach another inch in, trying to break past whatever wall inside of you keeps him from impaling you entirely on him. 

All three friends burst into a feeling of realization, Jake already mid orgasm at the sound of that moan you just cried out– 

Then theres….nothin but the feeling of Heeseung releasing your hands and allowing you to grip his desk through this deep hold of his length inside of you. 

Suddenly, no sound through the headset, the light of the monitor in your peripheral vision goes off, and Heeseung is breaking his demeanor just to moan out in full again. 

“Drove them crazy,” He chuckles through a wet groan, now snapping his hips back and leaning forward just to push back into you, deeper, deeper, until his desk ruts against the wall with the tight hold on you. “Driving me fucking crazy.” He whispers, holding his open lips right against your neck when he hunches over in this paused thrust. 

“You looked so good.” He says again, suddenly praising you, suddenly able to relish in the pleasure he’s giving you rather than pretending it does nothing for him. 

You blink away tears, feeling your twisted and turned body, still trying to look at him through this even if he’s released your hands. 

He can see that look of realization on your face and smiles at that too before shooting his hands to your middle and forcing you back and against him. 

He keeps his dick in you, too obsessed with the drag your walls offer to him, and holds you against him just to shift to the side and press you back on the misplaced couch in the room. Man cave stuff, and alla that. 

You watch him guide you face first into the cushions before he is grabbing your hands again, holding them right back in pace behind your back with one hand, and the other pushing your face even further into the pillows. 

“You have no fucking idea, do you?” He grunts, slamming into you again, eyes glued to the way your body strains to accommodate the position he wants you in. “How much better you are?”

Oh. Really now? 

You smile through suffocated breaths, the fabric of the couch invading the taste of your own breath and forcing you to love it just as much. You bite down, listening to his spilling words. 

“Begging me like that for my friends to hear, like you didn’t know I wanted to do this?” He continues, burying himself deep again and holding it there again. “Fucking my pillow instead of me.” 

He seems a little more angry now. 

“Turning my friends on when you wanted me,” He grabs your hair again, pulling you back into that same painful arch and forcing you to stare up at the wall. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart, I would’ve given it to you every time.” 

The reality that this is not your boyfriend is so far from you right now. The fact that your sister is working away right now to pay the light bill, gonna come home later and share a bed with this man? You’re not even jealous. 

In fact? You’re on top of the world listening to him want you more. 

And at this point, Heeseung can tell you’re smiling, looking blankly at the wall and totally lost from this world. This is exactly what he wanted. 

Such a pretty little sister, winning him over the bitch that won’t even choke on his cock? It could have been so much easier for you. But this was fun for him, watching you want him and know you couldn’t have him.

Despite him proving that you could have had him any day of the week.

“All you had to do was ask.” He repeats into your ear, now slowing his pace until he pulls out. 

He takes a step back, gazing at the way your open pussy still clenches for him, the way your ass shakes slightly with your legs. 

“Aww,” He coos, blinking at you from behind and reaching forward to flip you over. “You wanted it so bad too, can’t believe you waited.” 

You see him now, fully in person rather than through the image on his monitor. His skin looks so much more full of life, cheeks tinted and hair more fucked up than you’ve ever seen it. Cock huge, weighed against his leg. 

You’re shocked you took all of it like that previously, unable to relish in the pain of it because your senses were overloaded with moans and his own boasting. 

“Your sister doesn’t have to know.” He says now, eyes trailing your body. 

“Ah–” You wince when he licks his fingers and lowers his hand to your clit, one hand spreading your legs out now that he’s got you on your back. “I really didn’t know.”

Heeseung chuckles, finding you entirely too cute and endearing as you look up at him with those fucked out lips trying not to quiver at your sensitivity. 

“You were too dumb to take a hint.” He leans forward, now, using his hand to lift your leg up to your chest, rubbing his cock right against your hole as he pulls his other hand up now, propping up your other leg. “Too stubborn to realize.” 

You nod in a slightly broken way, unsure of if you were the one putting yourself through torture, or if you really were too dumb to notice he was trying to get you to go insane for him. 

He wanted you to jump on him. He wanted you to take it like this. 

“And you won’t tell her?” You whisper now, losing the ability to think much more when he grinds himself down, keeping eye contact with you, that same smirk you both hated and loved. 

He shakes his head at you, almost sweetly when he adjusts his cock to slide in again, knocking the breath out of you with a choked moan. 

“She won’t find out if you can be quiet when she’s home.”

Oh fucking no. He wants to…continue this? This isn’t a one time thing? He’s going to try while she’s home? While she’s gone?  Arguably, you’re fucking glad.

“When she’s–?” You try to question, stopping short when he bottoms out in a groan, breathing in through his nose before lending you a tight, short thrust. 

“Mm, yeah, I’m gonna be in you every day.” He moans, thinking about the image alone of sneaking into your room while his girlfriend is fast asleep.

Fucking you in his bed. In your bed. On the shared couch. Everywhere. Everyday. 

“God, she’d hate us both.” He chuckles through the same moans he can’t stop from spilling out of his throat. “Finding out I’m so deep, so raw like this.”

Fuck. Right.

“Wait–” You come to realization, clenching from panic at the fact that a condom didn’t even come to mind. “Fuck, Hee, wait!” 

He only presses harder now, smiling at how you’ve finally managed to come to your senses. Fucking you faster when you try to wiggle your hips away. Fucking you harder, pressing his entire body weight against the back of your thighs just to force you to stay in one place. Pussy open and spread out, clenching his cock so nicely. 

“Gonna fuck you full,” He kisses your forehead with the horrifying words. “You’ll do it for me right? She won’t let me.”

Those words ring in your head. If she won’t let him, you sure as fuck will. You can deal with the consequences later. You no longer fight to pretend he’s not ramming your g-spot, forcing your voice to shake through a cry of his name. 

“I’m not–” You choke out through cries, feeling your body tense up. “I’m not on birth co-”

“Fuckkkk, yes.” He rolls his eyes back at your half spoken words, losing it at the thought of dripping his seed into you and knowing he’s sterile enough to scare you both for good. “Take it,” He thumps his cock as far into you as he can, willing you to nod your head, willing you to love this as much as he does. 

It’s the fact that you’re not trying to wiggle away now, he can feel your hole pulse at hit words, the way you want to be better than your sister, the way you’d truly let him. 

Even more the fact that you’re not the one he should be shooting his seed into. It should be your sister, the woman who wants to marry him, the woman who said she simply wasn’t ready to bear his child.  Not that you want to either, but goddamn do you want to be fucked full of the possibly, you say it yourself in a harsh grip around his neck, tugging at the long strands of hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Do it.” You whisper through hiccuped moans, his thrusts scooting you up and down on the couch at the sheer force of them. 

“Yeah,” He nods his head, pressing harder against your legs as he chases the very high you’re asking him to give to you. “You want it?” He encourages you to keep telling him. He needs you to tell him. 

You nod frantically, feeling your body tense up again, trying to reach your hands between your legs to rub your swollen clit. Shockingly, that simply touch of your fingers sends you straight over edge, cumming so hard around his deep thrusts that you can barely hear him praise you through it with drawn out groans of “Ah, you’re squeezing me–” and “Just like that, I’m–”

His voice is clear though, when his hips stutter in place and he’s holding himself still. You can feel the pulse of him releasing into you through the last moments of your orgasm. 

“Take it.” He moans. “Take all of it.” He continues, pulling out half way so that his cum drenches every part of your hole. 

There, he uses his hand to milk the rest of it out of him, eyes squeezed shut as he feels the sensation of your own orgasm only slick up the inside of you more than he is, and then– he rams back in. Pushing his cum deep. So deep that you moan at the feeling, knowing the mess is dripping down your ass, and being shoved so far against your cervix that– Well. You panic. 

Arguably, Heeseung should panic too, but he doesn't as he heaves in a deep and relieved sigh, sliding out of you once and for all. 

He just looks at you, a mess on the office couch, pussy pumped full of him, swollen, still pulsing. 

“Can I be honest?” He breathes out after running his hands through his sweaty hair, dropping them down with a slap to your now relaxed legs.

At your silence, he continues anyway. “You’ve never looked prettier than right now.” 

And, well. You realize that with those words alone, selfish and self absorbed as you relish in them, you decide you don’t care that he’s just fucked you raw without a care in the world that he just cheated on the supposed love of his life. You both have won in this situation, and pregnancy isn’t such a scare anyway when he walks away a mere minute later and comes back with a fucking Plan-B pill. 

You’re confused by it at first, popping it into your mouth and looking at him with raised brows. 

“Why do you just have these?” You ask, still catching your breath. 

“She takes one every time we have sex, even with a condom.” He rolls his eyes.  You smirk, noting how if there’s anything you do better than your sister…It’s fucking her boyfriend.

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋ🖍️crayons and connections

pairing: prohero!katsuki x nanny!reader

summary: after a harsh relationship he really didn't want another try at romance for a while. at least, not until he hired you. he thought he loved the way you cared for his kids, but you both knew it was something more.

tags: fem!reader, domestic au, use of pet names, no proofread, fluff, cursing, taking care of kids, a millisecond of angst i swear trust me, comfort

(a/n: i couldn't get this au out of my headdd)

wc: ~3k

katsuki was honestly sick of his wife.

she would nag him constantly, asking for his cards and attention without ever asking about him or how he was doing. everything was an argument now, most of their nights would eventually end up with him on the couch.

the only lights of his life were his newborn son and one year old daughter. he had adopted the 'staying for the kids' mindset, but her skipping out on their shared daughter's first birthday was his breaking point.

who knew 'i want a divorce' would be the happiest words he'd ever uttered such far? watching her cry and swear she'd be better feeding the hole of despair that had opened over their three year relationship, that had only really blossomed because she got pregnant.

he had made her sign a prenup, thankfully, so he got to keep the house. with a payment and some paperwork he was left with full custody of his kids in his house, to sleep in his bed for the first time in ages.

well, only because he hired you.

it was only natural that he needed a nanny, i mean he was gone for most of the day patrols. after taking some in for interviews, he eventually landed on you after some hours of questioning.

he was exhausted, some of these hags were terrifying, both in their practices and appearances. he relaxed a bit at the sight of you. you were really pretty.

"hi mr-- um bakugo was it?"

you and no idea who he was? it kind of hurt but would end up working out in his favor.

"yeah, just katsuki's fine."

"oh, okay! i'm [name], uh-- i have a couple years experience for babysitting and i worked as a nanny for some other families too--"

as you rambled about your past experience and why you were good for the job, katsuki's mind went elsewhere. you looked breathtaking just speaking there, he swore your hair was flowing in the wind and that the sun shone brighter around you.

not to mention you were really sweet, he had saw you making small talk to the hags earlier, which meant you really were a saint.

"so uh-- yeah that's all about me... uh, hello?"

"oh! yes? that was all really impressive [name]. so, would you be available from eight in the morning to about ten at night? those are my current patrol hours, and obviously you'd be compensated for this trial."

"yes, that's perfect for me! when can i start?"

"uh.. tomorrow?"

"okay!" you stuck out your hand, a small smile on your lips. "nice to meet you katsuki."

he shook your hand firmly and you bowed before leaving.

the next day you arrived earlier than anticipated, he was suited up in his heroes outfit, relishing in the moments where his kids were still asleep.

he heard a knock at the door and opened it. it was you, a tiny purse behind you. "hi katsuki! woah wait a minute.. are you like a hero?"

he shrugged his arms. "yeah, you know only like top three, nothing big."

he saw your eyes widen. "oh wow! sorry for not recognizing you, i don't really keep up with all that stuff-- but im sure you're really strong!"

he nodded, "hell yeah i am. anyways, come in."

you were greeted by a large family home. you were sure your apartment was the size of the kitchen alone. huge halls and grand staircases filled the space, lavish chandeliers all shaped as explosions hung from the ceiling. not to mention the crazy amount of trophies displayed.

the rocking chairs and baby blankets scattered about were seriously out of place, making you giggle a bit.

when he looked back at you, you immediately slapped your hand over your face. "something funny?"

"no, no it's just-- your house is so nice!"

"thank you? anyways, i'll take you up to their rooms now."

you followed behind him, even his kids had huge rooms. you were super kind of jealous.

he opened the door and waved you over to see a small, adorable baby boy sleeping in a cot. "this is kei, he's only eight months." he whispered. "he fusses a lot, but he loves music."

he closed the door slowly behind, and walked to the room straight across. a tiny toddler laid in a princess bed, the room drowning in all things pink. "this is kioko, she's a handful. she turned two a bit ago." he whispered, closing the door behind him to give you a basic rundown of the schedule.

"so, they normally wake up around eight. there's a lot of formula for kei in the kitchen, and kioko just likes cereal. kioko can and will play all day, but kei gets real sleepy."

you nodded along making mental notes of everything.

"they eat lunch around three, but a snack before then is fine. dinner is at seven and they go to sleep at eight."

"okay, i think i got it."

he nodded. "i think you do too. there's extra keys in the counter by the door. call my assistants if there are any emergencies, i wrote the number on the fridge."

you nodded again, "kay, i got it. you get going though, it's already eight twenty!"

"fuck. okay, i'll see you later."

"bye katsuki."

the door closed behind him and you were alone. you decided to start prepping a bottle. just as you finished, you heard the wails of a baby ring throughout the halls.

you walked up to the cot, speaking softly. "hi kei, i'm [name]." as you picked him up, he gurgled in confusion. "i'll be taking care of you from now on, let's go eat."

you kept him in your arms. he was looking up at you curiously, making you smile as he touched your face. as you walked to his sister's room, where sure enough she was awake too.

"hi kioko, im [name]. i'll be taking care of you, okay?" you said, reaching out a hand for her to shake it.

she grasped your hand. "okay. go eat?"

"yes, let's go eat. follow me, okay?" she followed after you sleepily, her blanket and stuffed animal in her arms as you led her to the kitchen.

you placed her brother in a high chair first, giving him his formula. "can i pick you up?" you asked her.

"up-up!" she said, raising her arms up in the air. you carried and placed her into one too. "so, what do you wanna eat?"

"cookie!" she pointed to an expensive cereal brand you'd never even seen before. "oh, okay."

you placed a bit in a tiny bowl, adding some milk. they ate relatively peacefully, were they really as crazy as katsuki said?

yes, yes they were. kioko was a ball of energy, walking any and everywhere. she wanted to play every single game known to mankind. it didn't help that hide and seek was hard in such a huge house.

kei clung to you. as you searched for her he never wanted to leave your side, he'd start sniffling when you even left his sight.

lunch and dinner were a blur, you made the food katsuki had told you to on the sticky notes he'd left around. you had a bit too, and man did these kids eat good.

kioko finally crashed, tugging on the back of your pants. "sleepy time." you were washing dishes, so you wiped your hand clean to ruffle her hair. "okay, go wait for me in your room."

you finished up, picked up kei from where he was sat by his activity cube, and walked over to kioko's room.

you read her a book, 'the giving tree.' she fell asleep halfway through, utterly tuckered out from the day. kei fell asleep against your chest, you went and laid him down in his cot.

you looked around the house, seeing the mess. you sighed. "let's do this."

the house was sparkling once you were done, a pot of coffee on the stove as you waited for katsuki to get back. you seriously didn't know how you were going to go back your one-bed apartment now that you've seen how the rich live.

the door sounded, it was katsuki. "hi katsuki! how was uh-- patrol?"

he was covered in soot and dirt from head to toe. you internally sobbed at your hours of mopping going to waste. "oh uh, it was good. caught some guys and shit."

"ah, that's cool!"

he looked around. "did my brats cause you any trouble?" he eyed how clean everything was, from the dishes to the floor.

"they're full of energy, but so cute it makes up for it."

he wore a soft smile. "yeah, they really are."

"you know, they both look exactly like you. it's cute."

he flushed slightly, "yeah?"

"mhm, oh! i had leftovers from earlier? if you wanted some."

"yeah, i'll eat them." she smiled and started to grab her things. "so, does this mean i pass?"

he smiled too. "yes,

yes you did."

days melted into months of your routine with kei and kioko. some days katsuki would come home early, letting you play games all together. you'd cook with him sometimes too, laughing at how precise he was about it.

everything got a bit real the second kei spoke his first word to you.

"mama."

you and kioko got so excited, recording a clip to send it to katsuki immediately.

the entire day you were so happy, treating the kids to a secret extra snack, and letting them beat their favorite baby popcorn.

a knock on the door was heard, you were feeding kei so you walked over to the door with him in hand. you thought it was odd, why would katsuki knock?

except it wasn't him, it was some woman. "uh.. who are you?"

"oh, so he thinks he can replace me so quickly? newsflash, bitch, i'm his ex wife."

"can you not curse in front of the kids?"

"i'll do whatever the fuck i want. you know why? because i'm actually connected to those kids. you're just playing mother, he'll dump you eventually."

she slammed the door behind her. "star her mama?" kioko asked behind you.

"yeah, stranger."

you had gotten a bit weird after that, acting weird about affection and things surrounding it. you didn't know why, but she really did make you question your role in their lives.

you weren't a mother, you were a nanny.

katsuki finally got fed up with your new, odd attitude. he questioned you with a look in his eye.

"why you been acting so weird?" he asked, his mouth full with food.

"huh? i don't know what you mean?"

he pointed his chopsticks at you. "you've been acting all weird 'round 'em. you don't like that they call you mom or something?"

"no! it's just.. don't you think it's weird?"

"no. i'm happy that they like you so much."

"you don't think i'm trying to replace their mom?"

"they never really had one in the first place. she was never around, so if she said some shit to you know she wasn't half the person you are."

"oh.."

"so she did come."

"yeah. she did."

"[name]. you are ten times the person she ever was. you're perfect without trying. actually, you do try. and that's why..

that's why we all love you."

you both turned red, which made you laugh. "thank you katsuki."

you reached out and held his hand.

"seriously, thank you."

he put a restraining order on his ex the next day, also going to get flowers for you as it was his day off.

you'd started to sleep over after that, the affection between the two of you growing gradually.

he gifted you a room in the house, fully furnished with about ten thousand dollars left in one of the drawers so 'you could decorate for yourself.'

that room went mostly unused though, as most nights you'd end up cuddled with katsuki in his bed.

the fridge was filled to the brim with photos by kioko, who'd love to draw all four of you as one big family.

katsuki even asked her for a small one, one that he now keeps in the back of his phone case for good luck.

he asked you out officially with kioko's help, her unwanted help that is.

she snuck out after bedtime where he was speaking to you on the couch, you in his arms as he was mustering up his courage--

"pleaseeee have a play date with daddy, pleasee?" she said, using her puppy eyes.

"we all love you a lot, but he loves you this much!" she spread out her arms to make a point, making you laugh.

"okay! okay, i already said yes kioko. go to sleep, okay?"

"yay!" she ran up to her room and you heard the door close.

"so.. about our playdate?"

he took you out to a fancy dinner of your choice, telling you to order whatever you'd like. his mom was babysitting so you two could relax.

he'd learned a lot about you from his kids, your favorite color, the music you liked, the way you like your eggs, but it was different to hear it from you.

he thought you were so gorgeous and kind, so sweet to him and the lights of his life. who was he kidding? over the last year you'd become a pillar of his life.

he enjoyed going home knowing you were there with his kids, you were there to hear about his stresses and support him.

he was happy to support you, to let you stay in his house. to let him pay for things for you, to let him make you smile.

one 'playdate' turned into multiple, you went out every other week.

he knew he had to do something, a grand gesture to show you just how much he loved you, how he wanted to continue building this perfect family of his forever.

he knew how much you treasured the opinions of his kids, he loved that about you.

so, he got them in on it. kioko and kei each held a gift for you, one of your favorite flowers and the other of your favorite perfumes.

you were at a seriously gorgeous park, streams the only noise you could hear for miles. you saw your two favorite kids sitting on the picnic blanket.

"kioko, kei?"

"mommy!" they ran up to you, kei handing you the bouquet of roses, and kioko handing you a vial of perfume.

"aw, thank you you two. where's your dad?"

"hes waiting for you! come come!"

"come!"

they guide you to a secluded area, with a natural arch of overgrown vines, where katsuki is waiting for you.

"katsuki?"

"[name]."

"what's all of this for?"

"you." he took your hands into his, looking deeply into you.

"you're important to me. you've.. you've become the thing i was missing. the thing i searched for in other people.

and, you've become that to the people i care about the most too.

so,"

he got down on one knee infront of you.

"will you marry me?"

the word yes escaped you before you even realized it. you tackled him into a hug, which prompted kei and kioko to join in.

everything was just so sweet from then on.

kioko was the flower girl at your wedding, kei was the ring holder.

your first kiss shared under the altar was magical, the memory of it forever engrained in your memories, and in your lips.

your honeymoon was bittersweet, as you missed your two headaches. but you and katsuki also enjoyed the private time alone with eachother, embracing and finding comfort in eachother's presence.

when you got home though, your picturesque family was about to have a new addition,

you were pregnant.

whilst everyone was debating whether or not you'd have a boy or girl, to everyone's surprise once you and katsuki cut the slice of cake open..

it had both colors.

you we're having twins.

as you looked over at katsuki, a shocked expression on his face, all you could do was laugh.

laugh because you couldn't have ever imagined a life this perfect for you.

but it was a wax-drawn line of fate that led you to katsuki,

and you'd always be thankful for it.

tag: @kovu-bunnbunn

[thebunnednun]

Overworked

Pairing: Pro Hero! Katsuki Bakugou x Stressed! Reader

Summary: Life is shit and Katsuki finds out you lied to him about taking care of yourself.

And you know what happens when you lie to Katsuki.

I wrote this for my friend @elarakive, she's been going through it so please give her some love y'all.

WC: 16,709

On with the show!!~

“I should’ve become a stripper in Miami.”

You staggered into your apartment, your body and mind exhausted from the endless cycle of school and work. The clock ticked mercilessly as you rushed to grab your work bag and change. Your commute home took about 20 minutes today, and there was barely enough time to catch your breath, let alone eat.

Sighing, you kicked off your shoes quickly before rushing into your small, cluttered room, your shoulders heavy with the weight of responsibility. The relentless cycle of school and work had left you in a mental fog, and the ticking clock seemed to mock your frantic rush. You had barely an hour to spare before your next shift, and the minutes slipped through your fingers like sand.

With trembling hands, you fumbled through your work bag, grabbing the essentials as you hurriedly changed into your work uniform. The sight of your reflection in the hallway mirror was a stark reminder of how far gone you were—dark circles under your eyes, hair a disheveled mess, and a look of defeat that you couldn’t quite hide. 

‘Fuck it, we ball with the consealer today.’

Rushing to the bathroom, you hurriedly adjusted your makeup in the bathroom mirror, the smudged eyeliner and messy foundation reflecting the chaos of your life. Every moment felt like a race against time as you dabbed concealer under your eyes, trying to mask the fatigue that had become your constant companion. 

You had to look good while in class. You have to look good at work so you can make those big bucks to pay for things that ultimately make you feel sick everytime you think about it. Like your rent, the car, the utilities, tuition payments, groceries, laundry supplies, toiletpaper, pads/tampons. Also Tynolonal because your little dehydrated ass kept getting migraines that you ironically didn’t take because you still wanted a working liver. 

In the midst of your chaotic routine, your phone buzzed with a notification: an unexpected double shift for the week. Your heart sank as you read the message. When you finally got a weekend off, it was swallowed up by studying, cleaning, and chores. Sleep was becoming a rare luxury, and your mental fog seemed to thicken with each passing day.

At work, the pressure has been relentless. Your manager's latest demand to pull full shifts this week felt like the last straw. As you stared at your schedule, the weight of it all crashed down on you. You wanted to cry, but you couldn't afford to break down—not with your job hanging in the balance. The only time you had to eat was during your brief lunch break at work, which you barely managed to find time for.

It felt like there was no end to the mounting responsibilities, and the weekend you’d managed to carve out for yourself was swallowed up by endless studying, chores, and barely enough sleep to keep you functional.

In the cramped kitchen, you grabbed a quick bite, your meal consisting of whatever was quickest to prepare. (A literal slice of bread.) The clock continued its relentless ticking, and you knew you were cutting it close. The idea of collapsing into bed, even for just a moment, was a sinfully tempting dream.

As you raced to gather your things, your mind was a jumble of deadlines and schedules. You barely noticed when your cell rang with its familiar “Kiss me through the phone!” ringtone to indicate that your boyfriend was calling. 

‘🥰 🤬 Kat-Suki 🩷🧡   is calling…..’

Heart fluttering, you nearly dropped the concealer wand on your blank uniform polo to snatch your phone off the counter and hit answer. 

“Damn it, what’s going on with you?” Katsuki’s voice cut through the haze of your stress, his usual bravado softened by genuine worry as the video connected. 

“You look like you’re about to drop.”

You paused, caught off guard by his sudden appearance and the intensity of his gaze. “Just… busy,” you managed to say, trying to muster a weak smile. “I’ve got a lot on my plate.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his expression growing more serious. “This ain’t just busy. You’re running yourself ragged. What the hell are ya doing to yourself?”

With a frustrated sigh, you grabbed the phone and tucked it into the front of your bra, the slight pressure reminding you that you needed to hurry. Balancing your phone precariously, you snatched up your work bag and keys, your hands clumsy with the rush. Your fingers were already cold from the constant running around, and you fought the urge to drop everything as you made your way to the car.

The engine roared to life as you slid into the driver’s seat and connected your phone to the Bluetooth system. Katsuki’s voice crackled through the speakers, a gruff but familiar comfort amidst the car noises. 

“Hey, you there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” you replied, blowing a raspberry into the phone. The sound was a mix of frustration and exhaustion, and you could almost hear Katsuki’s brow raise as he responded.

“You sound outta breath. What’s the deal?”

You chuckled softly, though it was more of a tired exhale. “Just the usual,” you said, your eyes darting between the road and the clock on the dashboard. “Running late, trying to get everything done. It’s been a mess.”

Katsuki’s voice grew more insistent. “Are ya eating properly? Getting enough sleep? You know, ya need to take care of yourself.”

You huffed, trying to focus on the road while keeping up with the conversation. “I’m eating, sleep is a luxury right now. I’m managing, Katsuki.”

His voice softened, though it still carried an edge of concern. “That’s not an answer, you know. You sound like you’re pushing yourself too hard. I don’t want you burning out.”

You adjusted the car’s air conditioning, the cool breeze a slight relief against the heat of your exhaustion. “I’m fine. Just got a lot on my plate. You know how it is.”

“Well, if you say so,” Katsuki said, though the worry in his tone was evident. “Just make sure you’re not running on empty. I want to see you in one piece when I get back.”

The call ended as you pulled into the parking lot of your workplace. You felt a pang of guilt but pushed it aside as you grabbed your work bag and keys, the day ahead looming large.

“I’m in the parking lot. So I’ll call you when I get out, okay?”

“ ‘S fine with me.”

“K, bye.”

You blew a smooch into the phone and quickly hung up before you could cry. It’s not like you wanted to lie to Katsuki. Your boyfriend was THE human lie detector and hated liars. But you also didn’t want to worry him while he was out on missions. But alas, those were all thoughts for later as you gently turned off the car and put your game face on before getting out the car and making your way towards the building. 

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

Your shift at work was as rough as you’d anticipated. Your manager was insistent about you picking up extra hours, their voice rising in frustration over minor issues. Customers were grumpy, complaints frequent, and the constant flow of tasks left you feeling drained. 

The office felt like a maze of gray cubicles and muted tones, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing softly overhead. As you sat at your desk, the familiar clutter of technical documents and graphic layouts surrounded you. The scent of strong coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of printer ink. You rubbed your eyes, a sigh escaping your lips as you pushed through another round of proofreading.

Just then, your phone buzzed, and you fumbled to pull it from your drawer, glancing at the screen to see a message from Masha in HR. It was a reminder about the formal complaint you needed to submit to get your overdue salary processed. You frowned, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders.

“Another thing to deal with,” you muttered, tapping out a quick response before setting the phone aside. Your fingers flew over the keyboard, drafting the formal complaint with a precision that belied your growing exhaustion. Every keystroke felt like an effort, each sentence a struggle to convey the frustration and urgency of your situation.

The clock ticked slowly, its rhythmic ticking amplifying the silence of the office as colleagues murmured and typed away in their own bubbles. You glanced at the pile of papers on your desk—technical documents, project briefs, and some rough sketches for graphics that you’d been tasked with. The contrast between your university days, filled with creative media projects and dynamic video production, and this monotonous office job was striking. 

You missed the excitement of storytelling and visual creation, but here you were, grinding away for the paycheck that barely seemed worth the effort right now.

Rent was due next week, and the thought of it gnawed at your mind. You tapped your pen nervously against the desk, trying to suppress the mounting anxiety. Your minimal savings were earmarked for tuition, and borrowing money from anyone, let alone Katsuki, was not an option you wanted to consider. The last thing you needed was for him to find out and make a fuss about it, turning your personal financial troubles into a point of contention.

As you took a deep breath and hit ‘send’ on the formal complaint, the stress of the past few weeks seemed to coalesce into a single, throbbing headache. Your hands were trembling slightly as you reached for the small, lukewarm cup of coffee on your desk, the caffeine offering a temporary, hollow comfort.

“Hey, can you cover this layout for me?” your colleague, Jenna, asked as she leaned over your cubicle wall. Her voice was chipper, a sharp contrast to the mental fog you were drowning in.

“Sure,” you said, forcing a smile as you accepted the additional task. Your mind drifted to the weekend, a distant hope of relaxation and a momentary escape from the whirlwind of deadlines and obligations. But even that felt out of reach as you buried yourself in work, hoping that somewhere amidst the chaos, a solution would present itself.

The minutes stretched into hours, the ticking of the clock a relentless reminder of how quickly time was slipping away. As the workday dragged on, your thoughts constantly circled back to your financial situation and how you might manage to cover rent without dipping into your savings or burdening anyone else. The weight of it all felt almost unbearable, and you silently wished for a moment of reprieve.

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

Finally, with mercy, your shift finally ended, you felt a wave of relief wash over you, but it was quickly overshadowed by exhaustion. You shuffled out of the office, your steps heavy and laden with fatigue.

The breakroom coffee you’d chugged was doing its best to keep you awake, but the jolt of caffeine did little to ease the sleepy buzz that had settled over you.

Your drive home was a blur, punctuated only by the occasional beep of your car’s dashboard and the monotonous hum of the engine. When you finally pulled into your parking spot, a sense of dread washed over you as you fished out your phone to check the latest update on your pay. The notification confirmed what you feared: your salary wouldn’t be processed for another week.

A gasp of frustration and disbelief escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the confined space of your car. You slammed your hands on the steering wheel, barely containing the urge to scream. The crushing weight of bills, looming deadlines, and the crushing reality of your financial situation finally broke through your walls of composure. Tears sprang to your eyes, spilling over as you let the frustration and sadness flow freely.

The emotional release was almost too much to bear, and as the tears flowed, the inside of your car’s windows fogged up, the steamy haze blurring your vision. You cracked the windows slightly, hoping to let some of the oppressive heat and steam escape. 

As the cool air started to seep in, you caught sight of Katsuki’s footprints on your windshield—evidence of the time he’d spent with his dogs on your dashboard, walking them around while you were driving. The sight of his footprint, a tangible reminder of his absence, made your heart ache even more.

The memory of him removing his footing while you had been driving around, convinced you’d seen a turtle on the side of the road, flashed through your mind.

Turns out it was a really moldy round rock and while you wanted to keep it, Katsuki made you leave the so-called “turtle,” which he’d dismissed as a weird rock, insisting it might be cursed and, “I don’t fuck with no spooky shit.” The thought of his spiky but playful protective nature contrasted sharply with the weight of your current situation.

Your mascara had bled and smeared, leaving dark streaks on your cheeks. You fumbled for tissues in the glove compartment—another thoughtful gift from Katsuki. With shaking hands, you dabbed at your face, trying to clean up the smudged makeup and regain some semblance of composure. 

But fuck the tissues because you wanted Katuski to wipe your tears, not Puffs with lotion. 

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your work bag and keys from the passenger seat. Despite the fact that you had no classes tomorrow—a silver lining provided by Mrs. Yamada’s decision to cancel due to the pleasant weather—you felt an emotional heaviness. You forced yourself to get out of the car, each step toward the building feeling like a mile.

The elevator ride up to your floor was a quiet, solitary journey. You leaned against the wall, trying to steady your breathing and calm your racing thoughts. When the elevator doors finally opened, you walked down the hallway with heavy steps, each footfall echoing your exhaustion and frustration.

You reached your door and, with a tired sigh, unlocked it and stepped inside. The familiar, quiet space of your apartment was both a refuge and a reminder of everything you were trying to manage. The world outside was still bustling, but here, in this small sanctuary, you could finally let down your guard.

Letting out another deep breath as you took in the comforting but humble surroundings. Your mind wandered to the weekend ahead, hoping for some respite and relaxation despite everything else. For now, you allowed yourself a moment to just be, to acknowledge the fucked up situation you were in and space out before you would have to be an active adult again. 

You slid down against the door, exhaustion making every movement feel labored. The cool, hard floor felt oddly comforting against your back as you contemplated the idea of slipping off your shoes and socks and crawling straight into bed. Your tired eyes were barely open when an unexpected, tantalizing scent wafted through the air, making you blink in confusion.

The smell was warm and inviting, reminiscent of the cozy autumn walks you take with Katsuki. The memory of him lifting you onto his shoulders while you collected pinecones, playfully biting your ankles when you took “too long” to pick out your favorites, made you smile through your tears. The scent brought a fleeting sense of comfort, but the question of who had been in your apartment and left it smelling so fresh and pleasant nagged at the back of your mind.

You pushed yourself up, the weariness making your movements slow and deliberate. As you wandered further into your apartment, you couldn’t shake the feeling of disbelief. Your living space, which had been cluttered and messy, was now impeccably clean, as if it had been professionally cleaned. The familiar scent of pine and a hint of something else filled the air, wrapping around you like a warm, fragrant embrace.

Shaking off the disorientation, you followed the delicious aroma to the kitchen. Your eyes widened as you saw a pot of rice and another pot of rich, spicy beef and vegetable stew cooling on the stove. The sight was almost surreal—your kitchen, which had been a chaotic mess just hours before, was now a haven of culinary comfort. The thought of someone cooking for you, despite your exhaustion, brought a mix of relief and confusion.

‘What the fuck?!’

You blinked once, twice, harshly, trying to process the scene before you. With a mixture of curiosity and wariness, you padded softly back to the living room, hoping to make sense of the situation. The only light on was the soft glow of the lamp in the bathroom, casting a warm, clean light across the hallway and into your living room. The air was still, save for the faint sound of shuffling coming from your bedroom.

Heart racing, you moved toward the sound, each step slow and cautious. The clean scent from the bathroom lingered, and you couldn’t help but notice how fresh and tidy it now seemed. You glanced back at the living room, which, in contrast to your earlier mess, now looked immaculate and inviting.

Heart pounding, you crept down the hallway, each step slow and deliberate. The freshly cleaned scent in the air did nothing to ease your anxiety. The apartment was spotless—too spotless. Your mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. Maybe Michael had come back early and done this as a surprise? Or maybe Shoto, Izuku, or Jirou had somehow managed to sneak in, tidy everything, and leave without telling you. 

After all, only Michael, Kirishima, and Shoto or Izuku had keys to your place in case of emergencies.

But Katsuki? He was out of state. He wouldn’t be back for a while, and even if he had sent one of those cleaning services, they were always in and out in less than 30 minutes. 

This... this wasn’t right.

Your gaze darted toward the door. The shuffling sound from your bedroom had stopped. Panic began to settle in, a rising tension that had you frozen on the spot. You considered calling for help, but your phone was still on the floor by your purse, forgotten in the rush of trying to figure out what was happening. You didn’t want to lose the element of surprise.

With a nervous breath, you reached for the flower vase sitting on the narrow hallway table. The roses inside were fresh, their deep crimson petals just beginning to open up. You mentally apologized to them as you dumped the flowers onto the floor, water splashing around the vase. Your hands moved swiftly, reaching inside for the TTI Glock 34 hidden beneath the stems. The cold metal felt heavier than usual in your hand, but you weren’t about to hesitate. 

You weren’t going to die in your own apartment—not like this.

Holding your breath, you stalked closer to the bathroom. You could hear the faint echo of your heart beating in your ears. Quietly, with practiced precision, you closed the door behind you without letting it click, trapping the scent of cleanliness inside. There was no turning back now. The apartment had become unfamiliar, and whoever or whatever was in your room needed to be dealt with.

You crept toward the bedroom, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as you got closer. The shifting sounds had stopped. Whoever it was, they were still inside. You crouched, gun in hand, every muscle tensed as you approached the door. Then, without warning, the door to your bedroom swung open with a loud

"BAM!"

The sound reverberated through the walls as darkness loomed before you. Instinct took over.

You fired two quick shots into the void, the deafening bangs ringing in your ears. The muzzle flashes lit up the shadows, revealing nothing but an empty room. Your heart hammered in your chest as you stared into the stillness. 

Silence.

"Fuck this!" you muttered under your breath, adrenaline kicking into high gear.

Without thinking twice, you bolted down the hallway. Your feet were heavy, thudding against the carpet as you ran, and the door to your apartment swung open behind you. You burst into the dimly lit hallway, the dingy orange carpet and faded yellow lighting never looking so welcoming. The familiar smell of old apartments and chipped paint wrapped around you as you sprinted toward the elevator.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your legs pumping as fast as they could. Most of your neighbors were either still at work or too old to have heard the gunshots, but there was no way you were sticking around to find out. You slapped the elevator button, glancing nervously back down the hallway.

You stood in front of the doors waiting, breathless and confused, waiting for the sound of footsteps or the telltale signs of someone chasing after you. 

But… nothing. 

The air was still, almost too still, and when you turned around, your heart pounding in your throat, you saw nothing. No one was following you. No shadowy figure, no intruder, no ominous movement at all. 

Just you.

That rush of fear was starting to ebb away, replaced by an unsettling new sensation—doubt. Did you get them? The thought made your heart skip, but worse than that, another horrifying possibility crept in: 

Did you kill someone?

Your stomach dropped as if you'd just fallen from a cliff. The idea of it—of accidentally shooting someone, maybe even someone who had no intention of hurting you—was almost too much to bear.

You pressed a shaky hand against the wall, your mind racing.

What would happen if it was true? What if you had killed someone in a panic? Your knees felt weak, and the edges of your vision blurred with panic.

‘What would happen to me? What would happen to Katsuki when they found out his girlfriend had killed someone? The girlfriend of the Number 2 Pro Hero, a murderer?’

‘What’s Katsuki gonna do?’

The thought sent a cold wave of nausea through you. You wanted to throw up right there in the hallway, but your stomach was so empty that all you could do was dry swallow, your mouth tasting like metal and dread. ‘What would the courts say? Would I go to jail? What would happen to Katsuki's career?’ 

Your thoughts spiraled, knotting together into an unbearable weight pressing down on your chest.

You swallowed hard, trying to force the rising panic back down. The hallway around you blurred for a second, the dim, dingy orange carpet now looking stained—like it was soaked in blood. You blinked hard, shaking your head. 

It was just the light, just your mind playing tricks on you. You forced yourself to look away from the carpet, your eyes trailing back to your apartment door. It was still ajar, spilling the warm, pale hallway light into the void of your dark apartment. The contrast was jarring—the safe, slightly worn familiarity of the hallway outside clashing with the pitch-black uncertainty inside your home.

Your home.

You pressed your back against the wall, trying to steady yourself. ‘You couldn’t leave this unfinished. If you did accidentally kill someone, you’d have to take responsibility. You had to know.’ And if it was an intruder, then, well... that was another layer of mess you'd have to deal with.

But God, you were so done.

The exhaustion from the double shifts, the lack of sleep, the unpaid bills—it all weighed you down, made your legs feel like lead as you slowly moved forward. Maybe that's why you found yourself inching toward your open door instead of running away.

Maybe that's why, instead of thinking clearly, you fumbled with your purse, your fingers shaking as you dug through it to find your phone. Instead of flicking on the light switch by the door, you opened the flashlight app, shining its weak beam into the suffocating darkness of your apartment.

The soft glow from your phone barely penetrated the void, but it was enough to make out familiar shapes—the edge of your coffee table, the corner of the couch, the faint outline of your kitchen down the hall. It almost looked normal. Almost. But something was wrong. You could feel it in your bones.

And then you felt it.

Before you could even process what was happening, something hot and large clamped down around your arm. A flash of pure, raw panic shot through you, freezing your blood in your veins. Your heart leapt into your throat, and you barely had time to let out a sharp, breathless gasp before another hand—bigger, stronger—covered your mouth, smothering any scream you could’ve made.

The force of it drove you backward, your body colliding with the floor as the figure pulled you into the apartment. The scent of clean linen and something warmer filled your senses, overpowering everything else. You thrashed instinctively, your pulse roaring in your ears, but the grip on you didn’t falter. 

The hand around your mouth tightened, silencing you even as you tried to cry out.

Your mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening. You couldn’t see anything except the faint glow of your phone, now flickering as it dropped from your hands onto the floor. Your gun—’Where the hell was your gun?!’

It was smacked outta your hand when the figure grabbed you, and now, it was probably somewhere in the apartment, out of reach.

“Stop fuckin’ squirming,” a low voice growled against your ear, sending a violent shiver down your spine.

The voice was familiar—so achingly familiar that your panic began to wane just enough for recognition to slip through the fog of fear. The heat of his breath, the roughness of his palm, the way his body radiated warmth even through the tension. You blinked hard, gasping into the hand that covered your mouth, your mind racing to catch up.

“Katsuki?” Your voice was muffled, barely audible against his skin.

His grip loosened a fraction, his palm sliding off your mouth just enough for you to catch a real breath. You gasped for air, your chest heaving as you tried to process everything. 

The fear, the relief, the utter confusion.

"Yeah," he muttered, his voice rough and low. He didn’t release you right away, keeping you firmly against him, his hot breath still brushing against your ear. "The hell were you thinking? Firing like that in the dark? You could’ve fuckin’ shot me!"

You slumped against him, half in shock, half in frustration. Your heart was still pounding, your limbs still trembling, but the flood of relief that came with recognizing his voice nearly brought you to tears. He was here. He wasn’t supposed to be, but he was.

“I didn’t know it was you,” you rasped, your voice shaky as you fought to steady your breathing. “Why the hell are you sneaking around my apartment?! I thought I was gonna die!”

Katsuki’s deadpan expression barely shifted as he lifted you up and unceremoniously dropped you onto the sofa. The cushions sighed under your weight, but before you could even adjust yourself, he was already stalking across the room.

His broad back was tense, and the muscles of his arms flexed beneath his shirt as he moved with precision, a wolf-like focus in the way he carried himself.

"Okay, let’s start with this," he began, his tone rough and low, his eyes flickering briefly over his shoulder at you. “I'm glad you can defend yourself. If I was some regular asshole, I'd be dead for sure.”

You blinked at him, still in disbelief, trying to process everything that had just happened. Your heart was still pounding, your body still reeling from the shock, and yet here he was, as calm as ever. He flipped on the hallway light with a casual flick, casting a soft glow over the apartment.

“Stay,” he huffed, his voice gruff, as if you were some unruly puppy he needed to wrangle.

He moved toward the dining area, and you turned your head to follow his movements. You watched as his calloused fingers picked up your steel piece—your gun—from where it had fallen, handling it with ease.

There was no hesitation in the way he moved, no sign of the earlier chaos as he handled the weapon. It was like he had done this a thousand times before, like the situation was perfectly normal for him.

You craned your neck a little more, catching sight of him as he knelt to collect the discarded roses from the hallway floor. He carefully placed your gun back into the vase where you had originally stashed it, as if putting everything back in its proper order, like nothing had happened. His shadow moved fluidly across the walls as he did so, and the tension in the air didn’t lessen—if anything, it deepened.

And then, he turned back toward you, his face unreadable, but those vermillion eyes—God, those eyes—locked onto yours like a predator zeroing in on its prey. He didn’t say a word, not yet, but the intensity of his gaze was enough to make your breath hitch.

The soft glow of the hallway light outlined his figure, casting sharp shadows on his jawline, the dim illumination making him look both softer and somehow more dangerous at the same time.

He stalked back over to you, each step deliberate, never once breaking eye contact. His eyes bored into yours, and you felt as though he could see through every layer of your confusion, your fear, and your relief. You tried to smile, to break the tension, but it felt weak under his unrelenting stare.

Katsuki finally stopped in front of you, his steps coming to a halt as he sat down on the coffee table across from you. The wood creaked slightly under his weight, but he didn’t seem to care. He spread his legs a little, bracing his elbows on his knees, leaning forward slightly, his powerful body now looming closer, radiating heat and energy.

He was dressed down tonight—just a black skull t-shirt that clung to his frame and a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips.

Casual, relaxed, almost like he had been home for a quiet night in. Yet here he was, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. He had this way of making everything else disappear when he focused on you like that, making your breath catch in your throat.

He sat there, silent, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped loosely between them. His back was slightly hunched as he leaned forward, making him look even more intense. His face was unreadable, and yet there was an edge to it—something simmering just below the surface, just beneath those sharp, vermillion eyes that hadn’t left yours for a second.

You shifted uncomfortably on the sofa under the weight of his gaze. “Uh, hey babe?” you said, your voice weak, barely above a whisper. You tried to giggle, to play it off like you weren’t utterly rattled, but the sound died awkwardly in your throat.

Katsuki didn’t move. His eyes remained fixed on you, not even a flicker of amusement crossing his face. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight, the muscle there clenching slightly. 

He wasn’t buying it.

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say or do next. The silence between you stretched out, heavy and oppressive, like a thick fog settling in the room. The only sound was the faint hum of the hallway light and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

For what felt like an eternity, you just sat there—him staring at you like you’d just committed the ultimate offense, and you shrinking under the weight of it. His gaze didn’t waver, not even once, and you could feel the intensity of his thoughts even if he wasn’t saying a word.

Your hands fidgeted in your lap, fingers twisting together as the nerves bubbled up inside you. 

“Katsuki, I—” you started, but the words trailed off, your voice faltering under the scrutiny.

Katuski considers you carefully for a moment, just a moment. Before slowly rising from his spot on the coffee table and making his way to the kitchen, flicking the light on, and you hear the opening of your cabinets and your favorite mug being taken out before your tap is run. Katsuki returns, makes his way to your dining room to also turn on the lights and then to your front door that he locks before also turning on the lights. 

Then, he finally makes his way back to you and hands you the mug that you accept with both hands and he doesn’t let go until you take three small sips at first and he sets himself back down in front of you. It’s not until your fifth sip that you realize he turned on all the lights so you could feel exposed and vulnerable under his stare. You almost choke on that, but hold it down in favor of meeting your boyfriend's gaze again. 

He finally spoke, his voice low and measured, but there was a tightness there, like he was barely holding back. “What the fuck was that, huh?” His eyes narrowed slightly, the air around him crackling with restrained emotion. “You really think lying to me was a good idea?”

Your breath caught in your throat. Lying? You blinked, confusion mixing with the remnants of panic, but you didn’t get a chance to speak before Katsuki leaned in closer, his face now hovering just inches from yours. The intensity of his gaze didn’t falter, those sharp vermillion eyes pinning you in place.

“Let’s not pretend,” he said, his voice dripping with a strange, unsettling calm. “You think I didn’t notice? That I couldn’t tell?” His lips curled into a smirk, but there was nothing playful about it. The way his eyes glinted, the way the tension in his jaw flexed—it was something far more dangerous.

“When did—” you started, but Katsuki cut you off, his tone sharp as a blade.

“When did I get back?” he asked, already knowing where your mind had gone. His smile widened, and the expression twisted something deep in your gut. His canines flashed, sharp and predatory, as the smirk grew into something almost menacing. “Right after you hung up the phone with me.”

Your stomach dropped. He heard? You should have known better. The way you’d tried to sound fine, the excuses you made about not being able to eat, the way your voice had shaken when you’d reassured him you were ‘doing great’—he hadn’t bought any of it. He’d come home right early, and he’d known.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours as he continued, “And you wanna know what I saw the second I walked in? You. Not taking care of yourself.��� 

“Again.”

The words hit you like a slap. Your mind raced back to everything over the last few days—the lack of sleep, barely eating, pushing yourself to the point of collapse. You thought you could hide it. But Katsuki wasn’t fooled. He never was.

“You lied to me,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less dangerous. “Told me you were fine, that you were ‘handling things.’” He chuckled darkly, his smile stretching wider.

“Look at you. Does this look like ‘fine’ to you?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry, as the weight of his words settled over you like a suffocating blanket. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to form an excuse, something to explain yourself, but the words wouldn’t come.

Katsuki’s gaze hardened, and he leaned back slightly, his arms crossing over his chest as if he were preparing for the final verdict.

“I trusted you to take care of yourself while I was gone, and what do you do? You starve yourself. You don’t sleep. You get so out of it you nearly put a bullet through your own damn apartment. All while telling me everything’s ‘great.’”

You could hear the frustration lacing his words now, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. But there was something else—something deeper, more raw, hiding in the way his voice shook ever so slightly when he said the word trusted.

"I tried—" you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but it felt so hollow even to your own ears. Katsuki wasn’t having it.

“Tried?” His voice cracked with a dangerous laugh, one that sent chills down your spine. “You tried? No, you didn’t ‘try.’ You hid from me. You lied because you thought you could handle everything on your own.”

He leaned forward again, the smile never fading, but this time it was sharper, darker, the full display of his teeth and sharp canines making him look almost feral. His red eyes widened slightly as he stared down at you, and there was an unsettling gleam in them now, something wild and untamed.

“But you can’t, can you?” he continued, his voice almost a mockery of sweetness. “You can’t take care of yourself. So guess what?” He leaned in close, so close you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. “I’m doing it for you.”

Your heart lurched in your chest as his words sank in. There was something terrifying about the calmness in his tone, the way he spoke as if it was a simple fact, something decided without question.

“You’re not eating? I’ll make sure you eat. You’re not sleeping? Don’t worry, I’ll fix that too.” His smile grew wider, more sinister, as if he were enjoying the thought of it. His sharp canines glinted under the light, and it felt like you were staring into the eyes of a predator.

The intensity of his gaze was suffocating, his red eyes burning into yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His presence was overwhelming, his words wrapping around you like chains, trapping you in the reality of what was happening.

Katsuki’s voice dropped to a whisper, but it was no less terrifying. “From now on, you don’t get to make that call. You don’t get to decide when you’re ‘fine’ or when you need help. I do.”

Your throat tightened as you tried to find the right words, the right explanation, but there was nothing that would make this better. You had lied. You had pushed yourself too far, and now you were facing the consequences. But Katsuki wasn’t just angry. He was something else—something scarier.

He reached out, cupping your face gently with one large, calloused hand, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. But the look in his eyes, the smile still pulling at his lips, made the gesture feel anything but comforting. He hooks his other palm on the underside of your calve and squeezes it twice. 

“I’m gonna take care of you,” he whispered, his voice soft but deadly serious. “Even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. Understand?” Katsuki dips his face lower, closer to yours as his pupils bore into your own.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, your chest tight with fear and guilt. Katsuki’s thumb traced your jawline, his touch deceptively gentle, but the look in his eyes was unrelenting.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his smile finally fading, replaced with that hard, determined expression you knew all too well. He stood up slowly, towering over you, and as he did, the weight of his presence pressed down on you like a storm.

He wasn’t giving you a choice.

And you knew there was no fighting him. Not when he was like this.

Katsuki stood over you, eyes narrowing slightly as he reached for the mug in your hand. His fingers brushed yours, and before you could protest, he gently tugged it from your grasp, tilting the cup toward your lips. The cold refreshing liquid hit your tongue, and you blinked in surprise, forced to drink it all at his pace. His gaze was steady, unyielding, as if this small act of making sure you finished the drink was a matter of life and death. 

There was no room for resistance.

"All of it," he muttered, and you obeyed, the warmth of the drink doing little to soothe the knot of nerves twisting in your stomach.

Once you drained the last of the mug, Katsuki set it aside with a soft clink and guided you to your feet. His grip was firm but not rough, the warmth of his palm grounding you as he led you through the bright apartment.

The light filtering through the bulbs was harsh compared to the dark tension that had settled between you two. Your heart pounded in your chest as you followed, your mind still trying to process everything that had just happened.

When he brought you to the bathroom, you turned to shoo him out. “I can handle this part,” you muttered, half-heartedly trying to get some semblance of control back. But Katsuki remained solid as a wall, unmoving, his eyes fixed on you. One eyebrow arched in that sharp, expectant way of his, and you knew you had no choice.

With a resigned sigh, you began stripping down, feeling the weight of his gaze linger, even though he wasn't watching you like that. His focus was intense, like he was making sure you didn’t skip a single step.

Katsuki stepped forward and locked the door behind him with a soft click, the sound echoing in the small, tiled space. The air between you thickened as he moved to turn on the water in your freshly cleaned shower, the spray sputtering to life.

Steam rose, filling the room, curling into the corners like a mist creeping through your thoughts. He tested the water with his hand, adjusting the temperature before turning to you, his eyes softer now, but no less serious.

“Get in,” he said, the command laced with care. His hand hovered near your elbow, ready to steady you as you stepped into the tub. You felt small under his watchful eye, but also cared for in a way that made your throat tighten.

Once you were safely under the warm spray, Katsuki turned away slightly, giving you some space, though he stayed close. He wasn’t leaving. Not until he was satisfied. You stood there for a moment, feeling the water cascade over your body, washing away the grime and exhaustion that clung to your skin.

You knew you had about five minutes before he turned back around, so you hurried, scrubbing yourself down with more effort than usual.

It wasn’t long before he came back, his eyes flicking over you with a critical, almost soft look. Satisfied with your effort, Katsuki reached for the showerhead and rinsed you off himself, his hands guiding the water over your skin. He was gentle, methodical, like he was handling something precious. 

And in his eyes, that’s exactly what you are.

After rinsing you clean, Katsuki gestured for you to sit down in the tub. The air was thick with the scent of soap and steam, but beneath it all was the tension that neither of you had fully addressed. As you lowered yourself into the bubbles that Katsuki had added, you felt your face flush at the intimacy of it all.

“Ya know,” he began, his voice rough but laced with something deeper, “when I got home early, I was happy.”

You looked up at him, blinking away the water droplets clinging to your lashes. His back was to you as he rummaged through the cabinet, but there was a weight in his words that made your chest tighten. Happy? You hadn’t expected that, not after the way things had spiraled today.

“Kirishima already went up to surprise your little friend,” he continued, his voice casual but still laced with that undeniable edge of possessiveness.

He found a bottle of your favorite bath oil and added a few drops to the water, the subtle scent filling the room. Katsuki always had a way of paying attention to details like that. Things you didn’t even think he noticed.

“So it was just gonna be me and you this weekend. Me and my girlfriend.”

The way he said my girlfriend made your pulse quicken. There was something about the way Katsuki spoke when it came to you, the way he claimed the words, made them his own. It was possessive, sure, but not in the suffocating way.

It was like he was reminding you that you were his priority, even when you couldn’t take care of yourself.

He finally turned back to you, kneeling by the tub so that his eyes were level with yours. The light in the room flickered, casting shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more intense. His vermilion eyes locked onto yours, and it felt like he was staring straight into your soul.

“So it was gonna be me and you,” he repeated, his voice quieter now but no less serious. “But instead, I come home to find you falling apart.” His hand reached out, fingers brushing over the wet strands of your hair, pushing them back from your face. The gesture was soft, but there was a weight behind it.

“What the hell, babe? You can’t even take care of yourself while I’m gone?”

You opened your mouth to respond, to explain, but he cut you off with a small shake of his head.

Katsuki’s hands were firm but gentle as he lathered your hair with shampoo, his fingers working through your scalp in deep, circular motions.

The pressure was so perfect that your eyes fluttered shut, a low hum escaping your throat as your body relaxed into the bath. It was embarrassing how good it felt, how every stroke of his fingers seemed to melt away the exhaustion clinging to your bones.

You could barely keep your head up, and just as your eyes threatened to roll back in your head, Katsuki splashed water at your face, jolting you back to reality.

“Oi, don’t go passing out on me just yet,” he muttered, though there was a playful smirk tugging at his lips. He shifted behind you, grabbing the showerhead to rinse out the soap, the warm water cascading down your back as he continued his work. The rhythmic sound of water filled the space, a stark contrast to the gruffness in his voice.

“You’re lucky I didn’t pounce on your ass the second you walked back into the apartment, lookin’ all messed up like that,” Katsuki grumbled, his hands sliding down your shoulders to scrub your back.

His fingers traced the curve of your spine, his touch lingering as he was refamiliarizing himself with every dip and curve. 

“You think I like seein’ you like this? All run-down and weak? You’ve got more in you than this.”

Katsuki paused, his hand hovering over your shoulder, and you could feel the weight of his stare even though you weren’t looking at him. “I just want you to be healthy. To take care of yourself the way I know you can.”

His hand moved down, scrubbing your arms with the washcloth, his roughness tempered by the care behind every stroke. “I get it, life’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but you don’t get to fall apart like this. Not when I’m around to make sure you’re good.”

His words were gruff, but there was something softer beneath the surface—a quiet worry that he’d never fully admit to. Katsuki rinsed you off, the soap sliding down your body as he worked, his attention never wavering.

As he moved to scrub your legs, his touch slowed for just a moment.

“You’re tough,” he muttered, almost to himself, his hand brushing along the curve of your thigh. “But that doesn’t mean you’ve gotta do everything on your own. I’m here, alright?”

He rinsed you one last time, his hand lingering at the small of your back as if anchoring you to the moment.

“And don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easy,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You owe me for not jumping your ass the second I saw you. But first, we’re gonna get you back to being you again.”

Your heart pounded, a mix of guilt and gratitude swirling in your chest. Katsuki wasn’t asking for permission. He was telling you. And part of you was relieved that you didn’t have to carry this burden alone anymore.

“No excuses,” he muttered, his fingers trailing down to tilt your chin up so you couldn’t look away. His thumb brushed against your lips, lingering there for a moment. “You don’t get to lie to me about this anymore.”

His gaze softened, but the intensity of his words remained. “I’m gonna make sure you’re alright. Even if that means watching over you every damn second.”

You nodded, the movement small, but Katsuki saw it. His hand dropped from your chin, and he leaned back, standing up to his full height as he grabbed a towel from the rack.

“Good,” he said, his voice softer now. He draped the towel over his shoulder and held out his hand to help you out of the tub. The air was cool against your skin as you stepped out the tub, his touch lingering on your shoulders as he pulled you close. The weight of the day seemed to melt away in that moment, leaving just the two of you standing there in the quiet.

Katsuki is rough around the edges, sure. But when it came to you, there was no doubt—he’d take care of you, fuck everyone else.

Katsuki wrapped the fluffy towel around your body, still warm and soft from the dryer. You nuzzled into it, relishing the feeling of warmth against your skin, the scent of fresh laundry lingering in the air. His chuckle was low, almost rumbling through his chest as he set you gently on the bath mat.

"Wait here," he said, his voice firm yet filled with that protective edge you’d grown so used to. You sat obediently, the towel cocooning you in its comforting warmth as Katsuki disappeared briefly.

When he returned, he carried a chair from the dinning and placed it in front of the bathroom mirror. He motioned for you to sit, and you did so without protest. The exhaustion still clung to you, but the care he was giving made it easier to just lean into his routine. You felt his fingers work through your damp hair with gentle precision as he sectioned it off to braid. 

The motions were firm but soft, practiced as if he had done this countless times before. You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax under his touch as he skillfully wove your hair into two simple, neat braids.

“There,” he murmured, wrapping a towel around the ends to help them dry. “That should do for now.” He gave you a brief once-over, satisfied with his work.

Next, Katsuki grabbed a toothbrush and came back toward you, squeezing a dollop of toothpaste onto it. Before you could protest or joke, he pressed the brush gently against your lips, and you reluctantly opened your mouth.

As he began brushing, your lips curled in a playful pout, and you made an attempt to nip his fingers with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Katsuki’s reaction was immediate, pulling back just slightly before leaning in close, his face inches from yours, eyes glinting with amusement.

“You really want me to bite you, huh?” he teased, voice low as his breath brushed your skin. You pouted but couldn’t stop the smile from creeping in. Slowly, you nodded, biting your lower lip. He smirked at your response, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin between your neck and shoulder, just enough pressure to make you shiver.

Your breath hitched as you squeezed him, wrapping your arms around his waist, but the sound that almost escaped you was quickly stifled as you pulled back, burying your face into the towel.

Katsuki chuckled darkly, clearly pleased with himself. "Behave," he muttered, finishing with your teeth. He handed you the mouthwash next. “Rinse,” he instructed, his eyes following your every move. You swished the cool liquid around before spitting it out, feeling oddly refreshed.

Once that was done, he moved on to the next part of his routine—your skincare. His touch was methodical as he washed your face, scrubbing gently and making sure every inch of your skin was properly cared for.

You could feel the cool cleanser on your cheeks as he worked, and there was something oddly intimate about the way he treated each step like it was second nature.

“No more mascara,” Katsuki said, narrowing his eyes as he gently dabbed a soft towel against your skin. “I want you to keep those damn lashes.”

You giggled at his comment, catching his eye in the mirror. “Hitoshi says we’re the only ones who make insomnia look sexy,” you teased. 

“Don’t take compliments from a guy who needs a bag check for his fuckin’ eyes.”

You snorted, while Katsuki was rolling his eyes. “That idiot looked like death last mission. He and Denki passed out under the table like a couple of idiots,” he said, shaking his head. 

“We should to check in on them—”

He interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “We can check on them tomorrow.”

His gaze shifted, locking onto yours with a possessive glint that made your stomach flutter. “You’re all mine this weekend. Those extras can wait.”

You blushed, your face softening as the weight of his words settled over you. The tenderness beneath his rough exterior always caught you off guard, especially when he showed it in moments like these. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, and for once, it wasn’t just because of the cozy towel wrapped around you.

Katsuki reached into the drawer, grabbing your favorite lip oil with a casual confidence, but his movements slowed with deliberate care as he traced the line of your cupid's bow, filling in your lips with precise strokes.

You felt the cool glide of the oil over your lips, the faint scent of vanilla filling the air between you. Watching him concentrate so intensely on such a delicate task brought a smile to your face.

“I can remember the last time you did something like this~”

you teased, the sing-song lilt in your voice light, playful. His reaction was immediate—his sharp vermillion eyes snapped back to yours, but his reddening ears gave him away. For all his confidence, a comment like that still managed to fluster him. The slight color spreading across his face would’ve been easy to miss if you hadn’t been watching him so closely.

His scowl deepened, and he growled, “So you wanna get your ass knocked out or what?”

You giggled, placing one hand on his solid shoulder, your fingers brushing against the heat radiating from his skin. Then, with a grin, you pressed the crown of your head into the crook of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin against your cheek. 

“Nooo, I’m just so happy you’re here!” Your voice was soft, genuine, the relief and joy of his presence making you melt into the moment.

Katsuki’s tension ebbed as he rolled his eyes, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He let your teasing slide, his usual gruffness tempered by the tenderness he rarely let anyone else see.

Without a word, he scooped you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing, his strength effortless as he held you close to his chest. You clung to him, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt, his heartbeat steady under your palm.

‘God, I love your heartbeat.’

As he carried you through the apartment, Katsuki flicked off the lights with a casual swipe of his hand, the darkness closing in behind you both. When you entered your room, you were greeted with the fresh, clean scent of laundry detergent and something distinctly Katsuki.

You blinked in surprise, realizing just how spotless everything was.

The bed was made, your clothes folded, and the air felt lighter, even though your mirror—still cracked from earlier—reflected back the remnants of your impulsive outburst. The shards of glass had already been swept and vacuumed away, leaving no trace of the mess.

Before you could comment, Katsuki threw you onto the bed, your body bouncing lightly against the plush comforter. “Hey!” you protested, mock indignation coloring your voice as you propped yourself up on your elbows, glaring at him.

He just smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’re asking for it.” You narrowed your eyes, grabbing one of your stuffed animals—a soft, well-loved bunny—and held it up like a threat. “I’ll throw all my stuffed animals at you, Katsuki, don’t test me.”

But the playful moment quickly shifted, his expression darkening with a predatory edge. His eyes gleamed as he climbed onto the bed with slow, deliberate movements, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight as he stalked toward you, inch by inch, like a wild animal sizing up its prey. The air between you thickened, electric, and your breath caught in your throat.

"You really wanna do that, sweetheart?" His voice was low, dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine. His gaze flickered briefly to the stuffed bunny in your hand before it snapped back to your face. "When you know how I feel about your 'babies'?" The way he drawled out the word—"babies"—made heat coil low in your stomach, your body responding involuntarily to the tension in the air.

Your grip on the bunny loosened, and without thinking, you let it drop from your hand. It tumbled onto the bed with a soft thud, forgotten, as you instinctively wrapped yourself tighter in the towel, your pulse quickening.

Katsuki’s smirk widened at your silence, his voice a low rumble as he teased, “What, no answer for me?” He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours, turning his ear toward you as if daring you to speak.

Instead of words, you leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against the shell of his ear, your breath warm against his skin. “No,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Katsuki chuckled, the sound deep and satisfied. He tugged at the edge of your towel with one finger, pulling it down just enough to expose your neck, your pulse beating rapidly beneath your skin. His lips descended, pressing a hot, firm kiss against the sensitive spot just above your collarbone, his breath hot as he whispered against your skin, 

“Good choice.”

Your breath hitched, your body shivering as you leaned into his touch, his kiss lingering like a brand against your flesh. The air around you was thick with unspoken words, the world outside fading away as you lost yourself in the warmth of his presence, the safety and intensity that only Katsuki could bring.

Katsuki’s hands reached for the hem of his skull-printed shirt, fingers curling as he lifted it over his head. The muscles in his arms and chest flexed with the movement, every line of his sculpted frame rippling with controlled power. He didn’t bother tossing it aside like he normally would. Instead, he draped it over you, lowering it onto your head before helping you slip your arms through the sleeves.

You smiled softly as the worn fabric slid down your body, the familiar scent of Katsuki surrounding you like a comforting embrace. His shirt was huge on you, the edges brushing just past your thighs, the warmth of it melding with the heat radiating from him.

You shifted beneath him, looking up as he hovered over you, his palms bracing on either side of your head. The proximity made your heart race, the weight of his gaze sending a shiver of anticipation through your body. Katsuki’s sharp eyes softened for just a second, the intensity still present but tempered with something warmer, more intimate.

He didn’t say anything as you wrapped your arms around his strong back, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath your fingers.

“Come here,” you murmured, giving him a gentle tap between his shoulder blades.

Without hesitation, Katsuki let himself drop, all the glorious warmth of his body pressing against you in a slow, controlled descent. The heavy weight of his chest flattened against yours, and you sighed in contentment, the closeness making you feel grounded.

Katsuki’s body, normally so explosive and full of barely contained energy, was now soft and pliant against you, like he was giving you the privilege of feeling his full, unfiltered presence.

Your hands naturally found their way to his spiky blonde hair, fingers threading through the surprisingly soft strands. For all the sharpness of his exterior, Katsuki’s hair was softer than most people knew—something only a select few had the privilege to experience. He guarded his personal space like a fortress, and it took time for him to let his guard down around anyone, let alone like this.

But with you, it was different. He was different.

He was your fussy Pomeranian—prickly to everyone else, but with a soft, loyal core.

You gently massaged his scalp, your nails scraping lightly against his skin as you worked through the spiked chaos of his hair. You could feel him relax, his tense shoulders loosening as he melted further into you, letting out a low grunt of approval. The sound was almost primal, a rumbling that vibrated through his chest and into yours.

You were so caught up in the moment, fingers tracing the line of his neck and combing through his hair, that you almost missed the sudden burst of air against your shoulder. It wasn’t until you felt the wet tickle of his lips blowing a raspberry into your skin that you realized he was trying to get your attention.

“What the—Katsuki!” you squealed, laughing as the sound reverberated through your skin. He smirked against your shoulder, clearly pleased with himself.

He lifted his head slightly, his red eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. “You listening now, or do I gotta do it again?” His voice was low, teasing, but there was that familiar edge of dominance underneath it all.

You huffed in mock annoyance, rolling your eyes before looking up at him. “What were you saying, genius?”

Katsuki grinned, the corners of his mouth twitching as he lowered himself again, letting his breath fan against your ear. “I said you’re lucky, you know that?” His voice was softer now, but it still held that commanding tone that sent a spark of heat through your chest. 

“Lucky I didn’t pounce on you the second I got back.”

His words lingered in the air, heavy with implication, and your breath hitched as you met his gaze. The raw intensity in his eyes, that feral spark you loved so much, was back. It wasn’t just a warning—it was a promise.

You swallowed, your voice coming out a little breathless. “Yeah? And why didn’t you?”

His grin widened as he pressed his forehead against yours, his voice dropping even lower. “Because I’m not an idiot. I could see you weren’t takin’ care of yourself. And I ain’t about to let my girl fall apart while I’m gone.”

You blinked, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you, though his words held a stern undertone. He shifted slightly, his weight pressing more firmly against you as his hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing just under the hem of his shirt. The touch was possessive but careful, like he was reminding you who was in charge of your well-being now.

“I know you can take care of yourself,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “but sometimes, you get stressed and forget.” His hands stilled, resting on your waist. “So I’m gonna do it for you.”

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Katsuki, in his own gruff way, always knew exactly what you needed. And it wouldn’t even  admit it outright, he cared more than anyone you’d ever known.

You felt your hands tighten in his hair again, tugging gently as you let out a soft sigh. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling a mix of affection and guilt. You knew you hadn’t been taking care of yourself lately, but hearing him say it hit differently. It made you realize just how much he’d noticed, how much he’d been keeping track, even when he wasn’t around.

Katsuki didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he shifted his weight, lifting his head to look down at you again, his expression softening just a fraction. “Yeah, well... just don’t make me come home to that shit again, got it?” His voice was still gruff, but there was an undeniable warmth in his tone.

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. He didn’t need to say it outright, but you knew—he wasn’t going anywhere. Not when it came to you.

Without another word, he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, and you let yourself relax under the weight of his body, feeling safe, loved, and cared for.

The two of you lay there in a soft, comfortable silence, the weight of Katsuki’s warm body settled against yours, his steady breath fanning over your skin.

His arms, strong yet gentle, stayed wrapped around your waist as if anchoring himself to you. The room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the sheets and the subtle creaking of the bed beneath your weight. You were about to close your eyes, savoring the moment, when you felt a slight flutter against your neck. His long eyelashes were brushing against your skin, tickling you softly.

You blinked, lifting your head slightly. "Katsuki, you alright?"

A muffled, "Yeah," came from him, his voice low and slightly hoarse as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. But something in the way he said it made you pause. His head shifted, settling over your boob (chest), right where your heart was. The sensation of his ear pressing against your heartbeat sent a wave of warmth and electricity rushing through you. Your soul felt like it was lighting up, a familiar connection between you two sparking alive.

Katsuki reached for your hand, his calloused fingers weaving through yours with a gentleness that contrasted his usual roughness. He lifted your intertwined hands and pressed them over his own heart, resting them there. The sensation, the intimacy of the moment, sent a tingle through your entire body, filling you with an overwhelming sense of love and connection. It was rare for Katsuki to be this tender, to show you this vulnerable side of himself. 

And yet, as you lay there, your heartbeats in sync, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

A soft, involuntary smile tugged at your lips as you looked down at him. You could feel the rhythm of his heart beneath your palm, steady and strong, and you were certain he could feel yours, too. The electric charge between you wasn’t just emotional; it felt physical, like your very essence was reaching out to him, and he to you. Katsuki, usually so tough and guarded, was here in your arms, sharing this tender moment.

But as you lay there, soaking in the warmth of the moment, something shifted. Katsuki stiffened slightly in your arms, his body going rigid against yours. You could feel his breath hitch, and when you looked down, you saw the confusion in his eyes, the way they glistened with unshed tears. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he looked completely lost, almost scared.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice laced with concern as you felt him tense even further. A flicker of panic shot through you. You knew how hard it was for Katsuki to express his emotions, and seeing him like this, vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down, tugged at something deep inside of you. 

"Are you having those pains again? Is it your chest?!"

Katsuki shook his head quickly, but his face contorted, and he let out a sharp sniff, his breaths coming faster. His fingers squeezed yours, his grip tightening as his other arm wrapped around your waist with almost a desperate strength.

You could feel the heat rising off his skin, his body suddenly clammy as if he were in a battle. His muscles tensed and flexed, his jaw clenched as he tried to fight whatever emotions were threatening to spill out.

"'S alright," he mumbled into your chest, but you could hear the tremble in his voice, the way it cracked as if he were holding something back. He buried his face deeper against you, curling into your body as though trying to shield himself from the storm brewing inside him.

"No, 'S not alright," you countered softly, your hand moving to rub slow, calming circles over his sweaty back. "Come on, Katsu, you know you can tell me."

You felt his heart pounding harder against your hand, the frantic rhythm echoing through your palm. His breath hitched again, and you instinctively shifted, running your fingers through his hair to calm him. Your other hand moved to the back of his neck, rubbing the tension out of his tight muscles as his breaths came in shallow gasps.

Katsuki’s palms, usually dry and strong, grew slick with sweat, and you could feel his hands trembling as they gripped yours. He sniffed again, louder this time, his body shuddering as he tried to regain control. Several deep, shaky breaths followed, but he didn’t pull away.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he lifted his head. His red eyes were rimmed with unshed tears, his lashes wet as he blinked them away. He sat up slowly, pulling himself out of your embrace, though he still held onto your hand like a lifeline. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his gaze distant as if he were trying to sort through the mess of emotions swirling inside him.

You reached up, gently brushing a tear away from his cheek. “Baby, talk to me, please.”

He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled to find his voice. When he finally spoke, his words were soft, raw. “I dunno... I just—” He paused, his jaw clenched as he looked down at your hand still resting over his heart. “I dunno what’s wrong with me.”

Your heart ached at the sight of him like this, so vulnerable and confused. Katsuki wasn’t used to feeling things this deeply, wasn’t used to letting anyone in like this. But here he was, breaking down in front of you, and all you wanted to do was hold him together.

You scooted closer, sitting up and pressing your forehead against his. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Katsu,” you whispered, your voice soothing as you cupped his face in your hands. “You’re just... feeling things. It’s okay.”

Katsuki closed his eyes, his breath shuddering as he leaned into your touch. “I don’t like it,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration. “I don’t like not... not being able to control it.”

You kissed his forehead softly, letting your lips linger there for a moment before pulling back. “You don’t always have to be in control. It’s okay to let go sometimes.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, just sat there with his eyes closed, his breathing slowly evening out as he let your words sink in. When he finally opened his eyes again, they were still glassy, but the panic had faded, replaced by a quiet resolve. He looked at you with an intensity that took your breath away.

“You make me feel things I don’t know how to handle,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t... I don’t wanna lose it.”

You smiled softly, your heart swelling as you pressed another gentle kiss to his cheek. “You won’t lose it, Katsuki. I’m here.”

Katsuki’s hand tightened around yours as he pulled back slightly, taking in a deep, steadying breath before speaking again. His eyes, still a little glassy but full of determination, met yours with a quiet intensity. “I didn’t want to be away from you,” he started, his voice soft but firm. “Even if work’s important... to me, you’re more important.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him that his work as a hero mattered, that it saved lives, but the look he gave you made you stop short. His gaze softened as it met yours, a silent plea for understanding. And instead of fighting back, you took his rough, calloused hands in yours, bringing them to your lips and pressing soft kisses to his knuckles. Then, with a small smile, you pressed his hands gently to your cheeks, letting him feel the warmth there, the quiet affection you had for him.

“I’m with you,” you whispered, and those simple words seemed to ease the tension in his body. He let out a slow breath, his chest rising and falling heavily before he continued.

“I get it,” he said, his voice a little stronger now. “Why you’re always trying to be so independent. You’ve got your own life, your own goals, and I want to respect that.” His thumb gently brushed against your cheek as he spoke, as though grounding himself with your touch.

“But I can’t... I can’t just sit by and watch you not take care of yourself. Sometimes... I feel like it’s my job to make sure you’re okay, ‘cause I... I love you.”

His voice cracked on those last words, and you saw the raw emotion flicker in his eyes. Katsuki wasn’t used to being vulnerable like this, to letting people see the softer side of him. But he was here, laying it all bare in front of you. You could feel the weight of his words, the sincerity, the fear that maybe you didn’t need him as much as he needed you. It tugged at something deep inside you.

“I love you, and I want to take care of you,” he went on, his grip on your hands tightening as if he were afraid to let go. “I wanna protect you, keep you safe, even when you don’t think you need it. It’s... it’s who I am. And I’m not gonna apologize for it.”

Your heart swelled with affection, and you moved your hands over his arms, gently rubbing along the firm, tense muscles as you tried to soothe him. His skin was warm under your touch, and you could feel the faint tremble in his shoulders as he kept talking, the weight of his emotions finally spilling out.

“I just...” Katsuki paused, his voice faltering for a moment as he swallowed hard, trying to keep the lump in his throat at bay. “This time away from you... it made me realize a lot. How much I love you, how much I need you around. I can’t stand it when I’m not with you, even if it’s just for a few days.” He let out a small, almost bitter chuckle. “You probably think it’s stupid, huh?”

You smiled softly, shaking your head as you continued to run your hands over his arms, feeling the tension slowly melt away under your touch. “It’s not stupid,” you whispered. “I missed you too.”

Katsuki’s eyes flickered with relief, but there was still a hint of frustration lingering in his expression. “But you... you don’t take care of yourself, not the way you should,” he said, his voice more serious now. “You always look after everyone else—hell, you make sure everyone’s okay, but you don’t do the same for yourself. It drives me crazy.”

You gave him a playful smile, trying to lighten the mood just a little. “You can’t keep an eye on me all the time, Katsu.”

He huffed, narrowing his eyes at you. “That’s the problem. I can’t. And you don’t make a habit of neglecting yourself, but when you do... you’re a hypocrite. You’ll run yourself into the ground to help everyone else, but then act like you don’t need anyone to do the same for you.”

You wanna stick your tongue out at him but knowing Katsuki, he’d make you regret that all night long. 

Katsuki’s intense gaze lingered, tracing every inch of you with a sharp, possessive look that made your heart race. His eyes moved from the top of your head, down the gentle curve of your neck, over the way his oversized skull shirt bunched up on your thighs, and down to your toes.

You could feel the weight of his stare, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, it seemed like the air between you thickened with tension.

Then he blinked, and it was like a fog lifting. He shifted, reaching into the deep pockets of his sweatpants with a small grunt. “I wanted to do this ‘right,’ ya know,” he muttered, almost to himself, but the words were laced with that familiar gruffness. His fingers fiddled with something in his pocket, his focus still mostly on you.

“Spent weeks with those dumbasses—picking out flowers, going through all these fancy restaurants, trying to get the perfect gift. Because you’re my girl, and I only get the best for you.”

His voice was low, raspy, and the way his eyes softened briefly before trailing down to your legs made your breath catch. His hand, rough and warm, ghosted over your ankle as if testing the waters before his grip tightened, just enough to pull you slightly closer with a small, teasing tug.

The movement startled you, and you yelped, instinctively wrapping the towel tighter around your waist as you scrambled upright, your heart hammering against your ribs. Katsuki’s laughter rumbled through the room, deep and genuine, the sound like warm honey coating the air. He was taking in the sight of your flustered reaction with a wicked grin plastered on his face.

“Kats,” you started, still catching your breath as you eyed him suspiciously, “what are you getting at?”

The mischievous gleam in his eyes returned, that familiar cocky, dangerous look that always made your pulse quicken. His grin softened into something more meaningful, more grounded, but still tinged with that wild spark. That look in his eye? It was the one that always had you convinced that all the hot ones were definitely crazy.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he confessed, his voice dropping into something more intimate, more vulnerable.

“Since I met you.”

You blinked, watching as his gaze flickered down to your bare legs. His jaw clenched for a split second, and he let out a low curse under his breath. “Should’ve used that damn lotion,” he muttered, almost to himself, clearly irritated that he hadn’t taken the chance to pamper you properly.

The moonlight filtering in from your window cast a silvery glow over him, highlighting every cut and line of his muscles as if he were carved from stone.

He was beautiful, raw, like a storm contained just beneath the surface, and for a brief moment, you were distracted by the sight of him—the rise and fall of his chest, the way his stomach flexed with each breath.

You could have his babies right here, right now.

Then his voice softened again, and the mood shifted as he spoke. “I love you. I really do.” His tone was hushed, like it was just for you. His eyes—usually so full of fire and determination—now held something much deeper, something vulnerable that he rarely let show. It was just him. Your Katsuki.

“I’m not good with this shit. I know that,” he admitted, his mouth tugging into a small, self-deprecating smirk. “But I wanna do this right.”

You blinked, feeling the air grow heavier as he squared his shoulders, a determined glint returning to his eyes. His hand finally left his pocket, and in one swift, almost impatient motion, he pulled something out and opened it in front of you. 

A small box. Velvet. The kind that held only one thing.

Your breath hitched, and your entire world seemed to narrow down to that tiny box and the ring inside it. It glittered in the low light, catching the moon's glow, but the details were lost on you as your heart thudded wildly in your chest.

Katsuki looked at you, dead-on, his expression both serious and soft at the same time, like he was offering you everything he had. 

“Would you marry me and be my hot mess?”

For a split second, you couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t even process the words that had just come out of his mouth. You felt like someone had knocked the air out of your lungs with a feather—hell, they could have knocked you over with one.

The world stopped spinning. Your eyes darted between the ring and Katsuki, who was watching you carefully now, his breath held as if he was waiting for your next move. You could feel the gravity of this moment pressing down on your chest, and yet... it wasn’t the heavy kind of weight that scared you. No. It was something else entirely.

It was the kind of weight that came with the realization that this moment, this person in front of you, was everything you never knew you needed.

A million thoughts raced through your mind, and none of them made sense, but your body reacted first. Your lips parted, but no words came out at first, only a small breathless laugh as you brought your shaking hands up to your mouth. Katsuki’s eyes searched your face, trying to gauge your reaction, and the barest hint of nerves flashed behind his hardened exterior. He might’ve been a fearless hero, but this?

This was different.

“Katsuki,” you whispered, barely able to find your voice as the emotions swirled inside you. “You... you’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” he replied immediately, his voice unwavering now. His eyes bore into yours with that fierce conviction only he could pull off. “I’ve been serious about you from the start. I love you, and I’m not waiting around anymore. I want you. With me. Always.”

His words sank into you, and before you even fully realized what you were doing, your hands shot forward, grabbing his face, pulling him down toward you. You kissed him—deeply, passionately, pouring everything you had into it, letting the overwhelming feelings consume you.

His lips were warm, familiar, grounding. Katsuki groaned softly into the kiss, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you closer as if the space between you was too much to bear.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads pressed together, your breath mingling with his as you both panted softly. The world around you faded, and all that was left was the man in front of you and the question still hanging in the air.

“Yes,” you breathed, smiling through the tears that had welled up in your eyes. “Yes, Katsuki. I’ll marry you.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw it—the raw, unfiltered joy on his face. It wasn’t loud or boastful, but it was there, in the soft curl of his lips and the way his eyes shone with unshed tears.

Katsuki Bakugo had won another battle—this time, with your heart.

Katsuki's rough fingers, calloused and warm, carefully slid the ring over your finger, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. You couldn’t help but gasp as the gem caught the light, sparkling in a way that made your heart skip a beat. It was more than beautiful—it was personal. The stone in the center was your birthstone, cut into your favorite shape and polished into your favorite color, surrounded by a delicate halo of tiny rubies. Rubies just like his eyes.

Your gaze flickered to the ring and then back to Katsuki. “How… how did you…?” you whispered, utterly floored. The details were so specific, the kind that you had only mentioned in passing, mostly to Michael. But somehow, Katsuki had pieced it all together.

The rubies glistened against the band, and nestled between them were smaller gemstones that mirrored the exact shade of your eyes. And if that wasn’t enough, there was another set of gems, a deep, fiery orange—the color of Katsuki’s favorite thing: explosions.

You turned the ring over in your hand, overwhelmed by the craftsmanship, the thoughtfulness. Every inch of the piece was a reflection of you, of him, of both of you together. Whoever he went to had worked some serious magic. As your fingers brushed over the band, something else caught your eye. With trembling hands, you slipped the ring off, turning it over, and there it was—engraved into the inside of the band in Katsuki’s unmistakable bluntness:

“I love you, dumbass.”

That was it. The tears came again, flooding your vision before you could stop them. Your chest tightened with the overwhelming sweetness of it all. You’d never expected this. How could you? This whole day had taken such a turn that your emotions were a tangled mess, and now, here you were, crying like a baby over a ring. But it wasn’t just any ring—it was him, you, everything.

“Katsuki,” you sobbed, bringing the ring to your chest as if it could stop the flood of emotions. Your voice trembled, but before you could even say another word, Katsuki’s eyes widened in pure panic. He hated when you cried. Hell, it wasn’t often that you let yourself fall apart like this, and seeing you like that sent him spiraling.

“Oi, oi! Don’t cry, damn it!” he barked, his voice frantic as he moved in closer, cupping your face with both hands. But then his panic melted into something softer as his thumbs wiped away the tears. 

“I’m serious, stop it, or you’re gonna make me lose it.”

But the sight of your tears didn’t stop him from acting on impulse. In typical Katsuki fashion, he leaned down and kissed you, first pressing his lips all over your face, desperate to dry every tear. But he didn’t stop there. In a ridiculous, completely endearing move, he leaned over and licked your cheek, tasting the saltiness of your tears with a playful smirk. You squealed, pulling away in shock, your face scrunched up in disbelief. 

“Did you just—ew, Katsuki! That’s so gross!”

You smacked his solid chest, half laughing, half horrified, but that only egged him on. “Oh, I’m gross now, huh?” he teased, his voice low and dangerous as he grinned down at you. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he launched himself at you, playfully wrestling you down onto the bed.

“No, no—Katsuki!” you shrieked, giggling uncontrollably as his strong arms trapped you beneath him. He pinned you effortlessly, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. His lips were on you again, peppering your face with kisses, and soon enough, the two of you were tumbling around in the sheets, rolling and laughing like a couple of kids.

The wrestling match was chaotic, full of breathless laughter, limbs tangled up, and soft murmurs of affection between teasing jabs. Katsuki was surprisingly playful, and before long, you were both breathless, collapsing side by side on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as your hearts raced in sync.

You turned your head, catching the way his chest heaved with each breath, a lazy grin tugging at the corner of his lips. His messy hair, usually so spiked and wild, was disheveled in the cutest way possible. Without thinking, you reached out, running your fingers through it, smoothing it back in place. He hummed in contentment, his eyes half-lidded as he looked over at you.

“But where’s your ring?” you asked, suddenly realizing that the gesture had been one-sided. You were the one with the ring on your finger, but what about him?

Katsuki chuckled, his voice rumbling low in his chest. “My ring, huh?” He smirked, eyes sparkling with that familiar cocky glint. “I’ll just give you my wallet, and you can surprise me.”

You blinked, taken aback for a second, before bursting into laughter. “M’Okay!” you replied, your voice full of playful mockery. “But don’t blame me if I pick something pink and covered in glitter.”

“Whatever you want, babe,” he shot back, unbothered by the thought, though you knew he’d raise hell if you actually went through with it. The both of you erupted into laughter again, the sound filling the room like music.

Katsuki shifted, rolling onto his side as he gently took your hand in his, threading your fingers together like he always did. His lips found your hand again, this time softer, more purposeful. He kissed the spot right over your ring, his lips lingering there for a moment, as if sealing his promise to you.

“I love you, Katsuki Bakugou,” you whispered, your heart swelling with warmth as you looked at him, your fiancé, the man who had somehow managed to make this chaotic mess of a proposal the most perfect moment of your life.

Katsuki’s eyes softened, his rough exterior melting away in the intimate glow of the moonlight. He squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “I love you too, dumbass,” he muttered, his voice gruff, but his expression was nothing short of tender.

In that moment, wrapped up in each other, you realized something: this—this wild, crazy love you shared with Katsuki—was the only thing that made sense in the world. You lay there together, side by side, hearts entwined, you knew without a doubt that you had found your forever.

💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥💖💥

The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a soft, warm glow across the bed, but you groaned, stretching lazily as you woke up. Your fingers instinctively brushed against your hair, feeling the unruly mess it had become overnight—complete with knots and stubborn curls that had a mind of their own.

You squinted at the brightness as your phone buzzed on the bedside table. Checking it, you saw the familiar ping of an email notification and grinned. You've been paid.

Sweet relief!

Rolling over to share the good news, you blinked in surprise at the empty side of the bed. The sheets were cold, and there was no sign of your fiancé—wait, boyfriend—wait, fiancé! A flutter of excitement bubbled up inside you at the thought of the word.

But the smell of breakfast caught your attention, and any irritation at his absence melted away. The unmistakable scent of eggs, with a hint of something smoky—probably bacon—wafted down the hallway, accompanied by the faint clink of pans from the kitchen.

Katsuki was already up, and the thought made you smile.

Without bothering to fix your appearance, you hopped out of bed, your feet hitting the cool, hardwood floor with a soft thud. You knew you’d hear about it later—how walking around barefoot would make you catch a cold. He always ranted about that kind of stuff, but you’d just smile and give him your usual “Yes, mama,” while he’d glare at you with that fiery look. 

But for now, you padded down the hall, completely barefoot, on a mission.

The closer you got, the stronger his scent became—that familiar, intoxicating mix of burnt caramel and something inherently Katsuki. You spotted him before he even saw you, standing at the stove, his back turned, a spatula in hand as he expertly flipped eggs in a pan. His muscles were taut, his broad shoulders moving effortlessly as he worked. He was dressed in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips, and you couldn’t help but admire the sight.

With a mischievous grin, you quietly made your way over, your bare feet silent against the floor. And then, in one swift move, you leapt onto his back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face into the crook of his neck. 

“Hi, fiancé!” you greeted, your voice muffled as you inhaled deeply, taking in that addictive scent that was all his.

Katsuki stiffened for a split second, more from surprise than anything else, but he quickly recovered. With a chuckle, he reached over and turned off the stove, placing the spatula down before his hands found their way to your thighs, gripping them as he adjusted your weight.

“You’re gonna burn the damn house down one day, y’know that?” he muttered, but there was a playful note in his voice. Before you could even respond, he effortlessly spun you around, lifting you off his back and setting you down on the kitchen counter nearby. His strength never failed to amaze you, and you giggled as your bare legs dangled off the edge, your hands resting on his chest.

His eyes softened as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lazy good morning kiss. “Hi, teddy bear,” he mumbled against your lips, his voice still raspy from sleep.

You smiled into the kiss, but just as you started to pull him closer, he pulled back, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Did you brush your teeth?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You snorted, shaking your head. “No.”

He frowned, glancing down. “Did you use the bathroom?”

“Nope.”

His scowl deepened, though you could see the teasing glint in his eyes. “Wash your face?”

“Also, no.”

Katsuki groaned dramatically, running a hand through his messy, spiked hair. “And this is exactly why you’re moving in with me today. You need supervision,” he grumbled, though his voice was more affectionate than angry. Before you could argue, he lightly smacked your thighs, the contact sending a playful jolt through you. 

“Katsuki!” you gasped, half laughing as you swatted at him, but he only pointed toward the living room.

Your delicate features blossomed into an expression of confusion. “What?”  But he didn’t respond, instead looking so mischievous and pleased with himself.

That’s when you noticed it—half of your living room was in disarray, large boxes stacked high, and furniture already disassembled. It looked like a moving truck had stormed through your place. Your jaw dropped as you stared at the sight.

“KATSUKI!” you shrieked, your voice bouncing off the walls as the reality of what he’d done sank in. He had already packed half your stuff—without even telling you! You couldn’t believe it.

He didn’t even flinch at your outburst, just gave you that smug, self-satisfied grin of his, crossing his arms over his broad chest. 

“What? I told you, you’re movin’ in today. Thought I’d help speed things up,” he said, shrugging as if he hadn’t just dismantled your entire living room.

You huffed, staring at the boxes like you couldn’t believe your eyes. “You could’ve at least warned me!”

He chuckled, stepping closer until he was standing between your legs, his hands resting on either side of your waist. “Nah. You’d just overthink it. This way, it’s done, and we don’t have to argue about it,” he smirked, leaning in to kiss your nose.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “I’m still not done with school, you know. And we haven’t even… there’s no… ring on your finger.”

Katsuki quirked a brow, his smirk turning wicked. “I told you, give me my wallet, and you can surprise me with the ring.”

You laughed, shaking your head at his nonchalance. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am,” he said, the playful edge to his voice making your heart skip a beat. “And don’t worry about school. You can study at my place just fine.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, he kissed you again, this time more firmly, his lips capturing yours in a way that made your head spin. You melted into it, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as you pulled him closer, your feet curling around his calves.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your lips tingling. “You don’t play fair,” you muttered, but the smile on your face betrayed you.

He grinned, kissing your forehead softly before pressing his lips to your knuckles where your ring sat. “I play to win, babe. And I already did,” he whispered, his voice low and full of affection.

You sighed, leaning into him, knowing full well that Katsuki Bakugou always got his way.

Before you could respond to his sweet words, a mischievous glint sparked in your eyes. You leaned in closer, pretending to go in for another kiss, but at the last second, you bit him—just lightly, on his shoulder—before snatching the plate of bacon from the counter. Katsuki blinked, his eyes widening in confusion before narrowing sharply as he processed what had just happened.

“You little brat!” he growled, his voice full of playful irritation.

With a squeal, you jumped off the counter, bare feet hitting the cold floor, and bolted for the bedroom, the stolen bacon in hand. You knew exactly what you were doing. Katsuki typically hated when anyone touched his food (although he actually had a habit of feeding you from his plate and fork), but you couldn’t help it. You loved riling him up, especially when he got that fire in his eyes!~

"Come back here, princess!" he barked, and the sound of his footsteps echoed behind you.

You darted around the corner, your heart pounding with adrenaline and laughter bubbling in your throat. The hardwood floor was slippery, and you barely made it to the door when Katsuki’s booming footsteps got louder. He was fast, too fast. 

A real predator on the hunt, and you were his target.

“Fuuuuck it, we ball!” you shouted over your shoulder, laughing as you slid into the bedroom. You could hear him cursing under his breath, muttering something about how you were always testing him. You were a princess, and yeah, maybe a bit of a brat, but that was part of your charm. You loved to push his buttons, loved how easy it was to get under his skin.

You heard the door slam behind you as Katsuki entered the room, hot on your heels. His eyes locked on yours, his gaze intense as he advanced. You tried to dodge him, but he was quicker, snatching the plate of bacon from your hands before grabbing your waist and pulling you back into his chest.

“Gotcha now, you little thief,” he growled in your ear, his voice low and warning, but you could hear the amusement in his tone.

You squirmed, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but he held you firm, his arms like steel bands around your waist. “Okay, okay! I surrender!” you giggled, breathless from the chase.

“You’re damn right you do,” he murmured before spinning you around and planting a quick, searing kiss on your lips. It was rough, but it was Katsuki through and through—fiery, intense, and full of passion.

You grinned against his lips, leaning into him. “Guess I’m still your little brat then, huh?”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as he looked down at you with that same possessive, loving gaze that always made your heart skip a beat. “Damn right you are. My brat, my princess, my pain in the ass.”

You laughed, nuzzling into his chest as you felt his arms tighten around you. “And you’re my grumpy fiancé,” you teased, poking his ribs.

Katsuki grumbled, but his smirk softened, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Yeah. But I’m your grumpy fiancé, so fuck it—we ball.”

In that moment, tangled together, laughter still lingering in the air, you knew without a doubt that you were his, and he was yours. No matter what life throws at you, you’d face it together. 

Always.

Taglist for Bakugou: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, @raendarkfaerie If you wanna be added lemme know!

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. I also have a Pro Hero! Bakugou x Sugar Baby fic.

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I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[narizaki]

sticky notes   sakusa kiyoomi x reader

―   tags   fem reader,   fluff,   roommates to something close to lovers,   timeskip kiyoomi

―   notes   wc is 1.8k,   i wrote this on a whim so please forgive ooc kiyoomi, also please forgive any grammar mistakes lmao

you and sakusa have been communicating through notes for the past three months.

at first, you had mindlessly written down a few groceries you needed to buy on a sticky note, pasting it onto the fridge so you wouldn’t forget. it included some of the basics: eggs, flour, rice, milk, and other necessities for you and your roommate’s fridge. 

then, the next time you came home, you were greeted by a bright yellow sticky note seated next to your pink one. it said:

protein powder

lettuce

masks (the white ones)

between your full-time job and sakusa’s hectic schedule as a professional volleyball player, the two of you hardly saw each other, if at all. especially with sakusa’s new status on the olympic team. it wasn’t bad, per se, as you’d never been the closest to him — he was closed-off and, frankly, intimidating. it was like the man would go to any lengths to avoid interacting with others. regardless, his small addition to your grocery list had made you laugh. 

you checked off the items he wanted, and the sticky note was gone the next day.

from then, the two of you only ever communicated with each other this way. one of you would write the groceries they needed to get that weekend, and the other would make their additions to the list. it was effective, simple, and considering how the only post-it notes the either of you owned were offensively bright colors, hard to miss. 

after a while, you began adding little comments in addition to the list of items you needed to buy. they were short and sweet, like a thanks! written in the corner of your post-it detailing the items you needed sakusa to buy, or there are leftovers in the fridge after you made too much for dinner. you weren’t expecting sakusa to respond to them, given his stand-offish nature. so, when he did, you were surprised. no; scratch that, you were elated. although his replies weren’t anything extraordinary, just a simple you’re welcome or thank you for the food written in his neat handwriting under your own, it felt like a break in your relationship with sakusa. 

despite knowing him for a while now, the two of you stayed as acquaintances and nothing more. but, you couldn’t deny that you wanted to know more about him. and though unconventional, the sticky notes worked perfectly for this.

writing to each other using post-its became such a habit that sakusa bought a magnetic whiteboard. you were only made aware of it when you walked into the kitchen to see it set up. there was a note already written in black marker on the board, stating that the post-it notes were beginning to be a waste of paper. you made sure to write a large thanks, sakusa! with the same marker, adding a few hearts around it.

(and if sakusa flushed red at the sight of his name with hearts surrounding it, only he would know.) 

whenever your friends came over, they would question the purpose of the whiteboard. you couldn't blame them; it did take up the better half of your fridge's surface. they had a good laugh when you explained the story behind it, but some asked why couldn’t you just text each other?

and, honestly? you didn’t know either.

you knew it would be more efficient if you were to text sakusa instead of patiently waiting for his replies on the dry-erase board every day. but, if you wanted to, you knew you would’ve done it a while ago; before he even had the idea of buying the whiteboard, back when the two of you were conversing through neon sticky notes and wasting an unnecessary amount of paper. 

you surmise it’s because you didn't want to ruin your and sakusa’s relationship — if you could even call it that. texting him would forcefully pull him into your orbit. though you’ve been regularly interacting with him for the past few months, you were aware that you hardly knew anything about the man; small notes and lists only gave you so much information about a person. the whiteboard was a safe in-between — you learn a little more about him and his habits, while not forcing him to interact with you. 

well, you think, he’s not obligated to answer my texts, either. you have his number, and it’s not like you haven’t texted him before. there was only so much you could do when you weren’t home to pick up packages or forget to inform him of a repairman coming over. 

you mull over the decision, a short text already typed into your conversation with sakusa. your finger hovers over the send button, before you furiously spam the delete key and put your phone down. no, nevermind. 

your plan of staying content with your relationship fails miserably.

it’s been a hard few weeks at work, with seemingly endless deadlines you have to meet and an equally endless amount of meetings you’ve had to attend. you feel as if you haven’t had a moment to yourself in forever.

so, when you submit your most recent project to your boss and shut your laptop closed, the first thing on your mind is to go home and rest. your mind is on auto-pilot as you pack your belongings, spitting out no’s to your co-workers' offers to go out drinking. when you’re this tired, the last thing you want to do is wake up with a splitting headache and an awful hangover the next day.

you stumble into your apartment, hastily toeing your heels off. a sigh leaves you, the harsh pressure of the shoe finally being relieved. they’re thrown somewhere in the corner, probably not anywhere close to where they should be, but you’ll deal with that tomorrow. all you want is some sleep. you consider just crashing on the couch and dealing with the consequences tomorrow.

“rough day?” a flat voice asks. you jump at the noise, not expecting anyone to be in your apartment. when you look up, you’re greeted by a tall figure standing in front of you. your eyes take a moment to rack over them, not completely registering that the only other person who has access to your apartment is…

sakusa.

“huh…?” you mutter, blinking a few times to will the tiredness from your eyes. it doesn’t work. sakusa only sighs, stepping from the doorway and further into your home. there’s a look on his face that’s telling you to follow, but when you don’t out of pure shock because he’s here? like, actually here? at home? he rolls his eyes.

“come on,” he says, “there’s food on the stove already.” 

you continue to stay silent, causing sakusa to raise an eyebrow. your face is scrunched up, a hand on the wall next to you to support your weight.

“are you…am i hallucinating…?” you mumble, internally debating if you wanted to pinch yourself to make sure that you’re not dreaming in any way. “i thought you weren’t going to be back for a while?” 

in response to your delirious rambling, sakusa laughs. it’s rather quiet, but you know he does. you hear the rapid exhalation of air accompanied by a deep rumble coming from his chest, and you can see his shoulders shaking. 

he steps closer to you, forcing your bag from your shoulder and practically pulling you with him into your shared living room. you’re tripping over your feet, mind still fuzzy from your tiring day. 

“leave it up to you to not be able to think properly after a long day,” he murmurs, setting your bag down on the couch. in your half-awake daze, you’re unable to form a proper response. “i guess you’re not hungry then.”

“well…” you stammer, still trying to get your bearings. “you’re like, never home, sakusa…so how am i supposed to react when you practically teleport in front of me?” you finish, a yawn escaping you. that makes sakusa laugh again. 

“for your information, i didn’t teleport in front of you,” he replies, “i heard the door open, so i went to greet my roommate. now, go get ready for bed.”

you disregard what he says, opting to groan when he orders you to get ready for bed. it just seems like so much work. you have to take off your makeup, change, brush your teeth, do your skincare…you think you’d rather crash face-first on your couch, like you were planning on doing earlier. you tell him that much.

sakusa rolls his eyes again. he pushes you towardsthe bathroom, telling you to take off your makeup, while he goes to rummage in your room for sleepwear. what? 

you don't have much of a choice, so you follow his directions. beginning with your meticulous skincare routine, you cleanse off your makeup. while you’re drying your face, sakusa knocks on the bathroom door with a fresh pair of pajamas for you to change into. 

once you’ve completed your nightly routine, you wander out of the bathroom to find sakusa sitting on the couch. he seems preoccupied with something on his phone, and you have to admit that the sight of him concentrating is rather charming. 

thankfully, the cold water you’d splashed onto your face woke you up, so you’re more awake than you were when you’d entered. you’re still horribly tired, and you want nothing but to sleep in the comfort of your bed, but you feel bad going straight to bed without even thanking sakusa for taking care of you. the only way the two of you talked for the last few months  was over post-it notes, for god's sake! 

“hey, sakusa?” you call, and his attention snaps from his phone to you. “thanks for uh…taking care of me. sorry about all that, i was really tired. or, er, am really tired.” you awkwardly stutter out. 

he hums in response, standing up from the couch and taking long strides towards you. thanks to his height, he’s face-to-face with you in no time. he’s close — maybe a little too close for someone you think probably doesn't even consider you a friend. that leads you to another realization: for someone that you knew disliked social interaction, he’s also talked to you an awful lot today.

“if you were really thankful, you’d go to bed right now and eat what i made tomorrow. you’re exhausted.” he bluntly replies. you gape at him for a moment, about to reply, but he cuts you off. “i’ll be home more often. volleyball is in the off-season now.” 

you know you should just nod and turn on your heel to go to bed, but there’s a question on the tip of your tongue that slips before you’re able to catch it. 

“so… no more whiteboard notes?” you question. sakusa laughs for a third time that night, and you think you’ve hit the jackpot in your slightly delirious state. 

he shakes his head. “no more whiteboard notes for now.”

you wake up the next morning, and when you enter the kitchen, you see a yellow sticky note pasted onto the whiteboard. on it, it reads: 

we can make these lists together now, so there's no need for either of these.

and, yeah, you think you can get used to that. 

[honeybubblebeeeeee]

Arranged marriage AU!Toji x Reader

Summary: Your son with toji, Megumi, said his first words today

CW: toji is cold and distant mostly hurt and no comfort mild fluff i guess??

Idk this was a random thought and now its here

REQUESTS OPEN!

Marriages were not always done out of love. Some were done out of necessity or desperation. Much like the one you were currently in. It was necessity of clans and land squabbles and power hungry old men that didn't care for the feelings of those around them - only getting what they want.

And in your case they got what they wanted. Did you get anything you wanted? Well kinda.

Being in an arranged marriage to Toji wasn't the worst thing to happen to you. It could be worse but it could also be much, much better.

You had known each other since you were children as it was planned from a young age that you two were to be married. You hadn't minded. Toji was attractive and you had a mini crush on him for the longest time but he always detested you. You knew of the numerous women he had slept with before your marriage, having run into them multiple times. It felt like he was trying to push you away, to force you to beg for an out but you both knew that wasn't happening.

You had only been married for a short time now almost two years. It had been mostly uneventful in the name of new marriages aside from - ya know - the whole baby you had. Toji and you were told to waste no time in trying to produce an heir and really that was the only Toji showed you any affection. Outside of those moments he was cold and inattentive. Those moments were only out of the necessity to reproduce anyway. He didn't interact with your son Megumi very much either.

You cleaned up the kitchen after dinner in your large but yet lonely house. Toji was still out. Work or something else you weren't sure. Megumi babbled and bounced as he watched you move around the kitchen from his highchair, music played in the background. You smiled at him as he babbled. "Hi 'Gumi." You waved at him smiling wide. He laughed giddly at your voice, his mop of black hair bouncing with his movements.

He was the happiest and the cutest baby you had ever seen. You were more than proud of yourself. It was only mildly hurtful that Megumi was identical to Toji. His dark hair, his facial structure screamed Toji. The only thing he had gotten from you was your eyes. They reflected back at you as you approached the bouncing baby putting him on your hip.

You danced along to he music, bouncing him around as he laughed and babbled.

You put him down on the floor as you turned off the music. He continued babbling to himself as he crawled around. "Dadadadadada"

You turned almost comically slow to look down at your son. "What?!" Your smile was wide and your face was full of surprise.

Megumi babbled on again almost coherently. "dadadadadada"

You were so in shock you could barely move. Picking him up and swiftly sitting him on the counter. "Gumi did you say dada?! Say it again! Say dada."

Megumi laughed and babbled at you. You repeated the word multiple times, he watched intently his mouth moving as if trying to copy you. More coherent this time. "Dada"

You smiled wide and clapped at him. "Good job Megumi!! Oh my we have to tell Dada don't we? Such a smart boy."

Within the same moment Toji burst through the front door. You looked up at him as he passed by the kitchen, not even taking off his shoes before going to stomp up the stairs. "Toji! Oh my gosh come here Megumi just-"

"Leave me alone." He marched up the stairs. You heard his footsteps through the house and his bedroom door slammed. You looked down at Megumi as his small hands held onto your shirt and he looked up at you with big eyes. "Dada." You smiled softly at him. "Yeah baby... dada." Looking towards the stairs as if seeing him stomp up to them all over again.

Hours went by and he never came back down. You texted him that his dinner was in the fridge, that you wanted to show him something, that you were here for him if he needed anything, that you were sorry he had a bad day and he never answered or even read a single message.

Since figuring out he could say 'dada' Megumi had not stopped repeating it. You knew it wasn't to annoy you but you couldn't help feel a pang of hurt every time he said it. Toji was rarely around. Why couldn't his first word be mama, the one who is always around?

It was Megumi's bed time but you really thought Toji hearing Megumi would lighten up his day a little. You sighed to yourself as you built lego towers with Megumi upstairs in his playroom. Here you were, still trying to be the wife but he really was making you into a stranger.

You bathed and dressed Megumi in his pjs and held him close as he looked up at you. "Should we go see if dada is busy Megumi?" His eyes widened at the word and continued his babbling mantra of it. You walked through the east half of the house where your room and Megumi's plus your own office, some extra rooms and Megumi's playroom were. Toji's side was the west wing. If you were actually husband and wife you would share the north wing, where the extravagant bedroom - apartment practically - sat bare and collected dust. You looked to the double doors at the end of the north hall with disappointment before making you way to the west end and stepping up to Toji's door.

You hesitated before knocking softly. Waiting a moment before looking down at Megumi and shrugging. "I don't know if he's awake bud." You thought for a moment before slowly pushing the door open and peering inside. The light were on so you entered even though you knew you shouldn't. Toji never let you in his room. You'd only be in here a handful of times and all those times were unpleasant.

You walked through the sitting area into the bedroom until you noticed the bathroom door shut. You shook your head, looking to Megumi, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "I think we will show dada tomorrow okay?" Megumi was unusually quiet, maybe being able to feel the tension that grew in your body. Turning swiftly you made for the door you came through but before you made it out of the bedroom the bathroom door opened.

"What are you doing in here?" Toji's voice was loud and cold. You turned to look at him. Water dripped from his wet hair, his body damp with steam. A towel hung loosely around his waist. "Did I say you could come in my room?" His eyes bore holes into you. The heat that rushed into your face gave away your fear.

You looked down to the son you both created, trying to look anywhere but at the way his muscled form rippled infront of you. It was easier to pretend you didn't find him attractive or care about him or have feelings for him when he wasn't right infront of you.

"Oh... sorry... I just..."

He eyed you, how you stayed focus on Megumi. The small boy holding onto your free hand. "What happened? Is Megumi ok?" His expression changed as he approached the two of you. His voice still cold and annoyed but a hint of concern hid underneath it all.

Your head snapped to him. Eyeing him closely for a reaction. "Nothing I just... he said his first word today. I thought it might cheer you up to hear it if I can get him to say it again."

His features softened ever so slightly. "His first word?" Toji tilted his head in thought. "What was it?" You couldn't help but notice the small amount of excitement in his voice.

Megumi bounced in your arms at Toji's voice, babbling along as if trying to figure out how to say it all over again. I smiled at Toji and then back down at Megumi. I pointed at Toji. "Who's that Gumi? Hmm? Say dada! Say it again baby show dada."

Megumi babbled and pointed towards Toji for a few moments before sounding out dada once again.

Toji's face immediately brightened. "What?! Dada??" He chuckled deeply, one that sounded genuine and it shook something in you. "He actually said it. Good boy Megumi." Toji stepped up to you and the baby as he spoke. Brushing Megumi's heap of hair back.

You kissed to side of Megumi's head as he bounced on your hip. "He hasn't even said mama yet." You chuckled softly but the tinge of hurt was in your voice. "Anyway that was all I wanted to tell you. Sorry for coming in your room, I know I'm not supposed to."

He shook his head. "it's okay." He assured as he watched Megumi babble and squirm in your grip. He was overtired for sure. Toji seemed to be a different person than the one you had come accustomed. His permanent scowl was gone and he looked almost happy. "Can I hold him?"

His question shocked you. Eyes widening but you handed him over.

Toji softly cradled him, rocking him back and forth as he whispered to him. Megumi didn't cry or fuss, even his overtired babbling stopped. Slowly his eyes got heavy and closed. You watched intently as Toji interacted with your son. If it could be like this all the time.

"He really does have my hair. He's got your eyes too." Toji commented quietly while admiring his son. His eyes flicked up to yours for a moment.

I smiled at him. "Yeah... he does..."

Toji chuckled softly. "He really does look like me. It's kinda scary."

You laughed a little more sincerely than you intended. "He does, has your personality too."

Toji chuckled low. "Yeah, he's cold and distant just like me?"

Your smile dropped, panic set in at his words. "Oh n-no I didn't mean it like that..."

Toji shook his head and looked up at you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips at your panicked expression. "I was joking, I know what you meant." He assured as he watched the sleeping Megumi in his arms.

You let go of a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. "oh right."

Toji whole aura seemed to relax when he held Megumi. You wished he could be around all the time. That he could be the father figure Megumi needed. That he could be the husband you wanted. To come home after a long day, and sit together. To be able to go to him when you needed a hug or reassurance or just wanted to feel loved. Your eyes focused as you realized that Toji was watching you deep in thought. Shaking your head you held out your arms. "I can take him now if you want. I don't want to bother you."

He held onto Megumi for a moment, seeming almost reluctant before handing him over to you. You smiled and nodded at him, turning to leave. He called out to you as you reached the door. "Wait, Y/N-"

You turned to look at him. "What's up?"

He opened his mouth to say something but closed it slowly. "Never mind sorry. Goodnight."

You eyed him for a moment before reluctantly turning away. "Alright... goodnight."

He couldn't bring himself to tell you the things he wanted to say. He couldn't find the words. How does he make up for the suffering you already endured? You had always so easily melted his cold dead heart, so he kept you at a distance but you had been so close. He already felt it melting.

[smileysuh]

truth serum

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. When you’d taken this job as a handler, it hadn’t been a babysitting gig. You’d signed on to work with Seungcheol because he was supposed to be one of the best agents… supposed to be. There’d been a time, three months ago, when he’d completed a job with flying colors. The two of you had celebrated at a hotel in Paris after the success, and after two bottles of champagne, you’d actually thought you were starting to get to know the guy. But whatever inklings of a gentleman you’d seen that night had disappeared soon after, and things have been up in the air ever since. His man whoring ways are at an all-time high, and his judgment has been questionable, to say the least. Now he’s gone and gotten himself captured, and you can’t help but fear the worst.

tw/cw. Seungcheol gets truth-serumed and a little beat up, unprotected sex, dirty talk, dominant Seungcheol, power dynamics, praise, one hint of degradation that’s quickly squashed, breast/nipple play, fingering, oral, foreplay in the kitchen, bdsm subthemes, spanking as a punishment, pain kink, multiple reader orgasms, creampie/fullness kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey. (his) angel eyes.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.6k

🍭 aus. Secret agent au, handler reader, coworker au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you for being patient with me this month on my svt posting for June! My birthday is on the 25th and your smiley has been busy- so grateful I could get this out, even without a teaser post :) I don't know anything about actual secret agents, but this was a fun fanfic idea I had and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did :)

“I’m just going to go talk to her.”

You hate how nonchalant Seungcheol sounds, hate how easily he can be swayed by pretty women, even while out on jobs. It’s your responsibility to keep him in check, the little angel on his shoulder, and in his ear. “Don’t do it,” you warn him.

“Her husband’s the target, from what I’ve seen, she’s harmless,” the agent counters.

“How easily swayed you are by pretty women, and need I remind you this isn’t the first time you’ve let a person of interest’s wife become your focus.”

“Careful, Honey, for a moment there it sounded like you were jealous.”

You’re watching Seungcheol through the casino’s live footage, a stream you’d easily hacked for the operation at hand. He’s leaning against the bar, all suave in dress pants and a white button-up that he’s left open just enough to show his prominent chest-

“That’s your third drink,” you note, changing the topic, “don’t let it cloud your judgment, Angel Eyes.” 

“We both know I can hold my liquor,” Seungcheol insists, raising his glass and sending a wink toward the camera before he downs the Old Fashioned. “I’m just going to go talk to her, she could give good intel.”

You let out a deep sigh. Sometimes, being Seungcheol’s handler can be a pain in the ass. Does he ever listen to you? Not usually. Does he get the job done, though? Most of the time.

“Trust me,” Seungcheol says, voice lowering. “I’m not going to do what you think I’m going to do.”

You roll your eyes, leaning back in your chair while you scan the screens in front of you. “Seduce her James Bond style and compromise this entire thing?”

“Maybe only half of that.”

God, he’s such a womanizer, but with a face like his, and the perks that come with his job, he can afford to be. 

“If this goes sideways, don’t expect me to bail you out of it.” you warn him.

“Honey, bailing me out is your job.”

You hate it when Seungcheol goes out of your visuals, and entering a hotel room with a target’s wife was not on the itinerary tonight. For the first ten minutes, you’d sat anxiously, listening in on his smooth-talking, when the woman had suggested they take things to the bedroom, part of you had wondered if you should call this whole thing off and let Seungcheol do what he always does: fuck the hot wife and sort things out later.

But when you hear a male voice, and a startled, “Who is this?” from Seungcheol, you’re glad you’d stayed anxiously glued to your computer.

A faint, “Friend of my husband,” said in a nonchalant female tone, sets you off immediately, and you’re grabbing your phone to get backup support before you can even think. 

You try to take deep breaths while you listen to what sounds like a fight taking place on Seungcheol’s end, and suddenly, the wire goes dead. Now, there are no sounds, only the racing of your own heart and the blood rushing through you.

“What’s going on?” Your supervisor's voice makes you jump, and you turn to see Jeonghan standing there with Hansol, another handler. 

“Cheol made a move on his target’s wife, went back to her room, but the wife brought friends. The wire is dead.”

“Fuck,” Jeonghan groans, “This is the third time this has happened to him.”

“I tried reminding him of that,” you say, your voice raising with anxiety.

Hansol offers you a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. He takes care of an agent named Seungkwan, and while Seungkwan gets into his own messes, he’s not the type to go after married women in the middle of a job. 

Jeonghan’s leaning over your computer now, and he brings up the map tracker you have on Seungcheol. “I’m sending this location to another agent we have in the area,” he tells you, quickly taking the reigns of the fuck up that’s just happened.

“It’s Wonwoo, isn’t it?” you sigh. “It’s always Wonwoo cleaning up Seungcheol’s messes.”

“Yes, it’s Wonwoo,” Jeonghan admits. “We made sure he’d be in the wings tonight in case something like this happened.”

“God, this isn’t good-” you groan.

“No,” Jeonghan responds, “It’s not. After tonight I’ll have to have a serious talk with Seungcheol, and a serious talk with you about reassignment if we decide Seungcheol is a liability.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. 

When you’d taken this job as a handler, it hadn’t been a babysitting gig. You’d signed on to work with Seungcheol because he was supposed to be one of the best agents… supposed to be. There’d been a time, three months ago, when he’d completed a job with flying colors. The two of you had celebrated at a hotel in Paris after the success, and after two bottles of champagne, you’d actually thought you were starting to get to know the guy. But whatever inklings of a gentleman you’d seen that night had disappeared soon after, and things have been up in the air ever since. His man whoring ways are at an all-time high, and his judgment has been questionable, to say the least. Now he’s gone and gotten himself captured, and you can’t help but fear the worst.

After a harrowing two hours, you find yourself in the med section of the agency compound. Wonwoo is stationed outside of Seungcheol’s room, and he stands straighter as you approach. “Hey, Honey,” he says, using your codename even though there’s really no reason for it right now.

“Wonwoo- how is he?” You anxiously look toward the door Wonwoo is guarding with his body.

Although you’d been connected to the whole ‘rescue Seungcheol operation,’ you’re still buzzing with anxiety. It’s unexplainable, and definitely bordering on unacceptable given the line of work you’re in, but damn it, you can’t help but care for the man you handle every day.

“Jeonghan’s with him right now,” Wonwoo responds smoothly.

Your heart thunders even louder in your ribcage. Jeonghan had mentioned Seungcheol being a liability- is he getting fired right now?

Part of you aches to be with him, to defend his stupid behaviour- but you know it’s not your place, besides, what would you even say? You’d told Seungcheol not to go after the target’s wife, and he’d done it anyway, which shows a lack of regard for handler instructions.

Seungcheol has become a liability, and you hate that things have come to this.  

“What do you think is going to happen?” you ask.

Wonwoo shrugs. “That’s above my paygrade.”

He’s awfully stoic, even for a spy, and while it can be intriguing at times, right now, his deflections only frustrate you more.

You let out a sigh. “What if I asked you to guess what’s going to happen?”

Wonwoo looks at you for a moment. “I’d guess Seungcheol will be put on a break.”

“A break,” you repeat. “Like… a permanent one?”

The spy can only shrug again, a nonchalant motion that’s way too disinterested for your liking.

Jeonghan’s been trying to talk you into working as Wonwoo’s handler for a while now, and although you know Wonwoo would be much less of a hassle than Seungcheol, you can’t bare to tear yourself away from the spy whose messes you’ve been helping clean up for over a year. 

Despite Seungcheol’s massive ego, and his magnetic attraction toward trouble, there’s something about him that makes you want to care for him. Sure, he never listens, especially when you give him advice about women, but Seungcheol has a certain something about him- something that you won’t give up easily.

Before you can talk further with Wonwoo, the med room door opens and Jeonghan steps out. He lets out a deep sigh, crossing his arms over his chest.

You hold your breath, waiting for your boss to give you instructions.

“This is a shit show,” Jeonghan says finally. 

Neither you nor Wonwoo verbally agree with him, but brief eyecontact between the two of you makes it known what you’re both thinking.

Jeonghan addresses you next. “I’m guessing you want to go in there and talk to him.”

You can only nod.

“Look, it might not be the best idea, but fuck it.” Jeonghan uncrosses his arms, looking at you with a steady expression. “They gave Seungcheol some kind of truth serum. I don’t know how long it will be in effect, but I do know he’s vulnerable right now. I probably shouldn’t let you in there- but… I’m just going to walk down the hall to get a coffee, and if you happen to slip through the door then so be it. I didn’t see anything, and since Wonwoo is coming with me, he didn’t either.”

You stare in shock for a moment, unsure what to say. There’s nothing to be said, and when Jeonghan dispurses, Wonwoo is quick to follow.

You turn to the door, and after a deep breath, you slip inside the med room.

Seungcheol is lying in a hospital bed. His lip is battered and there’s a blossoming purple bruise around his left brow, but other than that, he looks remarkably well.

“Honey?” He sits up when you enter, eyes widening in shock.

“Cheol-” Your voice cracks as you take the seat next to the bed, and while part of you wants to reach for his hand, you hold yourself back.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, and those are two words you’ve never heard from him before. “You were right… about the wife.”

“That’s not important right now,” you sigh. 

“It is. You’re my handler, and I didn’t listen to you, and that was wrong. If I had listened, we wouldn’t have gotten into this mess.”

You study him. You know he’s vulnerable, Jeonghan said as much, and with a truth serum impeding his ability to lie or evade questions, you want to be careful- but you also want answers, answers that you can only truly get right now.

“Why’d you do it?” you ask finally. “This time, and all the other times. You always go after the women, and I thought it was because you found it easy- seduction is what you’re good at, but- I don’t understand how you don’t see how dangerous it is.” 

“Honey-”

“They’re thinking about reassigning me to Wonwoo, and before that happens, I just need to know why, Cheol. When you have the potential to be the best agent in this company, why are you always so ready to jump ship and fuck any rich married woman even though you know it will fuck everything up?”

“They can’t reassign you to Wonwoo!” Seungcheol sits up abruptly, and the heart rate monitor next to him beeps a sign of warning at his increasing pulse.

“They can do whatever they want, you should be worried about your own job. You don’t even listen to me as your handler half the time, maybe you should be with someone you actually respect.” 

“I respect you,” Seungcheol blurts out.

“It doesn’t feel like you do.”

“I do,” he insists. “I-” Seungcheol’s voice cracks. “I get with women to distract myself.”

“Distractions in this line of work can be fatal.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he snaps, making you go silent. “Maybe I have a death wish.”

“Cheol-”

“Stop calling me Cheol.”

“Stop calling me Honey.”

“No.”

You glare at him, anger bubbling and inspiring you to dive deeper into your questioning, despite the fact that you know this isn’t a morally good idea. “Why do you need a distraction?”

“Because you’re a distraction. Your voice in my ear- it distracts me.”

“Maybe reassignment is a good idea.”

“You’re not being reassigned.” Seungcheol’s voice is practically a growl, and you’ve never seen this side of him.

“Why not?”

His expression breaks. “Because I need you.”

“You clearly don’t.”

“I do,” he insists. “I know I’m not good at showing it- but I do, I need you.”

 “Cheol-”

“Honey.”

“Tell me why.”

“Because-” Seungcheol lets out a sigh, and he punches at the hospital bed. “Look, I’m scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Scared of what?”

“Of falling for you.”

“Huh?” Now you’re confused. You’re staring at this lady killer agent, the sexiest man you’ve ever met, and you can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “But- all the women you go after-”

“Distractions from you, from the voice in my head.” Seungcheol swallows thickly. “That night in Paris…”

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you hold your breath for the next words about to leave him.

“That night- fuck, I’ve never met someone like you before. I’ve never felt-” he bites at his lip, and you wince, knowing it must hurt to put pressure on the wound there. “I got with those other women to try to convince myself that I didn’t need you. I didn’t need your guidance, I didn’t need your care, I didn’t need you- but… I do need you.” Seungcheol meets your gaze. “I’ve needed you more than I’ve ever needed anyone, and it scares me.”

Aside from the heart rate monitor beeping through the room, you swear you could hear a pin drop as you stare at Seungcheol, trying to register everything he’s just said.

“I-”

“It’s my turn to ask a question now,” Seungcheol says. “How do you feel about me?” 

“I think…” You swallow thickly. “I never understood why I stayed working with you after everything, but… maybe I understand now. Maybe I need you too.”

“Maybe?” Seungcheol flashes you a sexy smirk, and it makes you look away, hating how he makes you feel, hating how inappropriate this whole thing is.

“I’m definitely going to have to be reassigned now,” you tell him.

“What? Why?”

“You know why. This,” you point between the two of you, “this has been the liability the whole time. We’re the liability, Cheol.”

He sits and thinks about it for a moment. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” You let out a laugh. 

“Just… don’t work with Wonwoo, okay?”

“Why not?” You can’t help but laugh at the request.

“Because I think he’s into you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first,” you tease, standing up so you can sit on the bed, wanting to be closer to Seungcheol. “Besides,” you pinch at his chin, inspecting the wounds on his face, “Wonwoo might actually listen to me.”

“Honey,” Seungcheol slaps your hand away, instead grabbing at the back of your neck to bring your lips dangerously close to his, “don’t test me right now.” 

“Or what?”

He lets out a shaky breath, his gaze dipping down to your lips. “Jeonghan’s putting me on a two-week mental health break or some shit, this isn’t even a question of ‘or what’ anymore. While I’m on leave, I’m going to fuck you stupid. I’m going to make it so you can’t even leave the fucking bed. I’m going to show you that I’m not the kind of man who receives instructions, I give them. Think you can handle it?”

God, your core is throbbing from his words alone, and you can’t muster up any for yourself. You can only nod, staring at the beautiful, bruised, stubborn man in front of you.

“You should get out of here before I bend you over this fucking bed and get us both fired.” Seungcheol releases you, leaning back to put distance between your lips. 

“Do you think you’ll be released tonight?” you ask, voice quiet.

“Are you that eager to see what I’m made of, honey?” Seungcheol lets out a laugh.

“Maybe.”

“Yes, I think I’ll be out of here soon, after this stupid serum wears off. You know, this whole interrogating me while I’m vulnerable thing isn’t going to go unpunished.”

“I hope you do your worst,” you challenge him.

The agent scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re trouble.”

“Hypocrite,” you grin, standing and heading to the door. “Call me when you’re out, then you can take me home.”

You’re waiting by Seungcheol’s car in the parking garage when he comes out of the elevator. He’s dressed in black dress pants and the same white button-up he’d been wearing hours earlier. The collar is speckled with blood, the buttons undone to reveal his broad chest- his suit jacket is held in a fist, and he’s never looked sexier.

He doesn’t say anything as he approaches, closing the distance between the two of you. His hand finds your cheek, and his eyes stare into your own, your lips only inches apart. Then, he’s kissing you for the first time, a desperate, needy kiss that sets your entire body on fire.

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pressing your chest flush to his own. Your mouth opens instinctively, accepting the tongue that strokes by your teeth.

Seungcheol’s hand moves down to your ass, and he squeezes you roughly, pushing you back against the black jeep wrangler he’s been driving recently. The motion has you moaning against his lips, and Seungcheol breaks the kiss with a grin. His forehead rests against your own, and you both struggle to catch your breath.

“Been wanting to do that for a long time,” he tells you.

“Me too,” you admit, swallowing thickly. “So… your place?”

“My place,” he confirms, reaching behind you to open the door to his car. He grabs your hand to help you up into the tanked-out jeep, then gently shuts the door behind you.

Your heart is racing. You can’t believe you’re actually doing this. 

A couple of hours ago, you’d feared the worst, and now, you desperately need good, dirty, wet sex with Seungcheol to take your mind off the anxiety that’s still coursing through you.

“So,” you clear your throat as he pulls out of the parking garage, “did you talk to Jeonghan?”

Seungcheol laughs, reaching to hold your hand while he drives. “Yes, I talked to Jeonghan.”

“Did you mention me?”

“I mentioned you a lot. Mentioned you the first time he came in to talk. He asked the same kinds of questions you did, turns out you’re the only one who was completely oblivious to the way I felt about you.”

“Well… I mean… you’re the agent, not me. Figuring out secrets is your job, I just do handler stuff.” Your skin heats at the idea that others saw his affection for you, but you’d been so blind.

“He agrees that this thing between us, whatever it is, it’s the liability, not either of us alone. He’s putting me on rest, like I said, and when you’re up for it, he’d like to reassign you to some new hire, this wizz kid named Dino or something.”

Although you know reassignment is the best thing in this situation, it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Can you really trust someone else to be Seungcheol’s handler? God, you’re feeling downright territorial of this man already-

“Yeah, I’m not too happy about it either,” Seungcheol sighs, rubbing his thumb along your hand. “Some new kid getting you in his ear- he better not fall in love with you.”

“Did you fall in love with me?” you ask.

“Truth serum has worn off, honey,” Seungcheol grins, grinning and bringing your hand to his lips. “But yes, as cliche and stupid as it sounds, I did. And don’t worry, you don’t have to say it back, I know you were all hot and bothered by me too.”

You scoff loudly.

“What was it you said earlier? I ‘find seduction easy’? Don’t pretend we’re not in the same boat here, honey.” 

“God, I hate you.” You try to tear your hand away from him but he’s unrelenting.

“Liar. You love me. Love me so much you’re going to let me rearrange your guts.”

“Don’t be so vulgar,” you chastise him.

Seungcheol casts you a sideways glance. “You’re not my handler anymore, you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Your pussy throbs at his words. The dynamic between the two of you has always been a push-pull. You were supposed to be the one giving orders, but it never felt… correct. You’d bet your life that soon, when Seungcheol has you pressed to his bed, whispering all sorts of dirty commands in your ear- well, you have no doubts that will feel more natural. 

“As dominant as you like to pretend you are as a handler, I think we both know you’d rather be the submissive,” Seungcheol points out. “I can’t wait to see how good you’ll be for me.”

“Cheol-”

“Look at you, honey, a little dirty talk and you’re already a blabbering mess. Can’t find the words, can you?”

“Fuck.”

“You’re adorable,” he grins, shaking his head a little. “You’ll be good for me, I know you will be.”

You’re kissing Cheol the moment you get into his penthouse- or… is he kissing you? It’s hard to tell who moved first, all you know is that one thing leads to another and suddenly he’s hoisting you onto a kitchen counter, his hands already unbuttoning your pants.

You break your heated kiss to take a breath, looking up at the ceiling while he quickly attaches his lips to your neck. “Cheol- this is going a bit fast.”

“Is it?” He tugs your pants down, grinning against your throat. “Do you want me to slow down?”

His thumb finds your clit through your panties and you let out a whimper, clinging onto his strong shoulders.

You can’t even think right now, especially not when he begins to draw small circles against your sensitive bud, pulling away from you so he can watch your face. You open your eyes to look at him, loving the intensity in his expression.

“Tell me to slow down,” he says.

You take a breath, trying to process his words. They’d sounded like a command, so, begrudgingly, you whisper, “Slow down.”

“Too bad, I don’t listen to what you tell me to do, remember?” 

He’s such a shit-

A shit that gets onto his knees to immediately burry his face between your thighs, tugging your panties to the side roughly so his tongue can make direct contact with your already throbbing pussy.

“Fuck, Cheol-” you whimper loudly, threading your fingers through his silky dark hair, your legs already shaking around his head.

“Been thinking about what you’d taste like,” Seungcheol muses, pressing a sloppy kiss to your inner thigh. “Knew your pussy would be perfect for me.”

God, his words are getting to you, your mind completely blank of a comeback as Seungcheol dives back into his task, his lips wrapping harshly around your clit.

All you can do is gasp and whine for him, writhing on his kitchen counter while he works you closer and closer to an orgasm with his tongue alone.

When he pulls away to drag two fingers up your slit, your body tenses in anticipation.

“Relax,” Seungcheol chuckles, looking up at you with that handsome grin of his, “It’s only me, honey. You’re comfortable with me…” he pushes his digits into your core, cocking a brow, “right?”

“Yes, fuck-”

“Yes, what?” He crooks his fingers, hitting your gspot and making you cry out.

“Yes, I’m comfortable with you!” you belt out, falling back onto the table so you don’t have to hold yourself up anymore. You want to feel everything he’s giving you- want him to have your full focus.

“Good girl. I think you deserve a reward for admitting that, don’t you?” 

You can feel Seungcheol’s breath on your clit while he pumps his fingers, abusing the sweet spot that already has you close to the edge.

“Yeah, yes- I deserve a reward-”

Seungcheol pulls away abruptly, landing a slap to your pussy that has you squealing, your thighs closing around his hand. Your eyes snap open and you stare at him in shock.

“That sounded like a command, honey,” Seungcheol says, prying your legs apart. “Thought we agreed I’d be in charge tonight, and you know I hate being told what to do.”

“I-” you swallow thickly. “Please? Please let me cum?”

“Let you cum?” he taunts, thumb finding your clit but not applying nearly enough pressure.

“Please… make me cum?” you suggest, wanting - more than anything - to say the right thing for him.

“Because you asked so nicely.” Seungcheol flashes you a wink, and then his fingers are slipping into your wet core again, picking up where he left off. His lips return to your clit, which is practically buzzing from the slap, and before you even know it, he has you at the edge.

“Please make me cum,” you whimper desperately. “Fuck, I’m so close- please make me cum, I’ve tried to be a good girl for you- please-”

He hums a sound of confirmation, and the buzzing vibration on your clit is enough to get you there. Your pussy clamps down hard on his fingers, your back arching as waves of pleasure surge through you. Your toes curl against his broad shoulders, sounds leaving you uncensored as you fill his apartment with cries of relief.

You’re throbbing, your pussy practically dripping at this point, but Seungcheol doesn’t let up. Even when you tug on his hair to try to pull him away, he refuses to move. He finger fucks you and sucks on your clit, ignoring the way your thighs close around him, working you through your high all the way until the end.

Seungcheol finally relents when your pussy stops contracting around him, and you let out a massive sigh when he pulls away. You can feel his eyes on you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him yet, not when you’re still feeling the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm.

You feel him begin to unbutton your shirt and his lips find the swell of your breasts as soon as it’s open. He’s soft in his kisses, gentle, tender even. “Have you come back down to earth yet, honey?” he asks, nuzzling up to your throat.

“Yeah- that was just, really good,” you let out a small laugh, threading your fingers through his hair to keep him tucked to your chest.

“That was just the appetizer, you still haven’t had the main course.”

“God, you’re so-”

“So what?” he teases. “Handsome? Charming? Lovable?”

“Sure of yourself,” you breathe.

“Let me show you something,” he prompts, reaching for your hand. He pulls away from your chest to stand up straight again, guiding your fingers to the front of his pants. His cock is straining against the fabric, and you open your eyes to see Seungcheol grinning when you gasp at how large he is. “When a man has a cock like mine, he can afford to be sure of himself.”

You shiver at his words, and it makes Seungcheol laugh. “Come on, let me take you to bed.”

He hauls you up before throwing you over his shoulder, landing a gentle spank on your ass. 

“Remember when I told you I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t even be able to leave the bed?” Seungcheol prompts as he tosses you onto the mattress. “You better get comfy, honey.”

“I think…” you feel your daring side beginning to surface, eyes dipping to watch Seungcheol’s skilled fingers unbuttoning his dress shirt, “I think I also remember something about you telling me my truth serum interrogation wouldn’t go unpunished.”

The agent pauses, a huge grin spreading across his face. “You’re cute, honey.”

“Yeah?” You reach behind your body, undoing the clasp of your bra and letting it slip to the wayside. “How so?”

Seungcheol’s pupils dilate, his eyes becoming dark, lustful pools. 

He doesn’t bother to answer your question, shrugging his shirt off before leaning over you, his hands pressing into the bed to box you in while his lips find yours. It’s a needy kiss, his tongue gliding out to meet your own, but you don’t mind at all.

You cup his face, moaning against him, fingers teasing over his strong shoulders.

Seungcheol is built, even for an agent. Certain men who work with you have leaner physiques, and Seungcheol is not one of them. He’s all big and broad, with lines of muscle that you could trace for hours if given the chance.

His lips begin to trail down to your throat, and you let out a whimper of anticipation when his breath fans across your pebbled nipples.

However, when he gets to your breasts, Seungcheol avoids sucking on the most sensitive spots. He looks up at you, grinning. “I think it’s time for that punishment now.”

“Yeah?” You can’t help the excitement that bubbles through you.

“I want you on your knees, ass up, and take off your panties while you’re at it.”

You know what’s coming when you follow through with the command. The cool air in the room feels nice on your newly exposed, hot core, and you make a show of everything, arching your back.

You can hear Seungcheol let out a deep breath, his hands ghosting over your ass.

“If this hurts too much, let me know.”

“Do your worst,” you counter, wiggling your hips and resting your face against the bed sheets, exhaling deeply in preparation.

You expect a harsh smack, but instead, Seungcheol presses a soft kiss to your right cheek. “I’m punishing you because you took advantage, you know that, right?”

“Uh huh, part of me knew I was being bad interrogating you while you were truth-serumed, but part of me needed to know what your answers would be.”

“Between us, I’m glad you asked the questions you did, or you might not be in my bed right now.”

“I’m glad too,” you confess. “Now, come on Angel Eyes, punish me.”

“I love a woman who takes what she deserves with grace.”

“After this, I deserve your cock.”

“Do you now?” Seungcheol lets out an amused chuckle, grabbing your ass with both hands and squeezing. 

“Maybe you deserve my pussy,” you muse thoughtfully.

“Now that’s something I can definitely get behind,” he agrees. “Count these out for me, honey, I’ll give you ten.”

The first smack makes you recoil in surprise, the sound flooding your senses before the sharp pain that blossoms across your skin.

“One,” you announce, balling your hands into the bed sheets.

“How did that feel?” he asks, gently smoothing his palm across the still-burning flesh.

“Good.”

The next hit is a little harder and it makes you whimper,  but you do your best to stay steady, unmoving, ready to take what you deserve. “Two.”

Three and four come on your other cheek, and you’re thankful for the reprieve, but smack number five returns to the first side he’d battered, and it stings even more now. However, it’s a pleasantly hot sensation, and your core throbs knowing you’re halfway through your punishment, all the more close to your reward.

“You look like you’re enjoying this too much,” Seungcheol muses, groping your ass again, squeezing hard enough to hurt.

“Maybe I am,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder at the agent. 

He grins down at you, lifting a hand- your body flinches involuntarily, and Seungcheol’s smile widens. “Getting sensitive already, huh?”

“Yes,” you admit.

The next slap lands on your pussy, something you hadn’t been expecting, and a squeal of delight erupts out of you at the sensation on your clit.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Seungcheol asks.

“Uh huh,” you nod, clenching the bed sheets even tighter.

“How's your clit feeling after one orgasm?” he prompts, thumb finding the sensitive bud and rubbing it in small circles.

“Feels so good,” you whimper.

“You’re practically dripping, honey, didn’t take you for a pain slut.”

“Be nice,” you chastise him.

“Oh?” 

Another smack lands on your ass and you dutifully call out “Six.” 

“You don’t like being called a little pain slut?” he asks.

“No,” you shake your head. “Please call me nice things.”

“Okay, honey, I can do that,” he concedes, and the next spank isn’t as hard as the last. “You’re being so good for me. We’re almost done.”

“Can’t wait for you to fuck me, I’ve been waiting so long-”

“We’ll get there,” Seungcheol promises, leaning down to press a kiss to your lower back. When he pulls away, number “Eight” comes quickly thereafter.

Your skin is buzzing with anticipation now, and you’re nearly writhing against the bed, but you do your best to be as still as possible while Seungcheol completes this punishment focused foreplay.

After smack number nine, you hear Seungcheol undo his belt, and it takes everything inside of you not to turn around and get a good look at his cock.

He smacks his length gently against your ass, and you let out a small, “Ten?”

He laughs. “No, honey, this is ten.”

The sound of the slap echoes through his room, the hardest of them all so far, and you release a strangled cry, your ass on fire from where he’d hit you.

“That was the pain, now here’s the pleasure.” He rubs his cock through your wet folds, and slips the tip inside, stretching you out wonderfully. The sensation distracts from your sore bum, and your whimper becomes a moan as he drives deeper and deeper into you. “Tell me you like it.”

“I love it,” you blurt, already pushing back toward him in an effort to feel everything.

You’re not sure how big he is, only that he’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, but after the tension of your punishment, and the orgasm before that, your pussy greedily swallows up everything he has to give until he’s flush to your still stinging ass.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol cusses, gently grabbing at your hips. “How’s that feel?”

“I feel so full,” you tell him, pussy fluttering around his cock.

“I’ll make you feel fuller,” he promises.

“Yeah?”

“You’re on birth control?”

“Uh huh.”

“Then I’ll definitely fill you up, mark this pussy as all mine, are you okay with that?”

“More than okay with it,” you moan. 

“That’s my good girl,” Seungcheol praises you, beginning to thrust.

“Fuck-” you whimper, loving the feeling of his cock dragging along your inner walls. 

Your eyes are closed, your focus entirely on Seungcheol as he starts to fuck you, rougher and rougher until his balls are slapping against your clit with each motion.

“Your pussy feels so good,” he tells you, grip tightening on your hips. “It’s like you were made for me, honey.”

The idea causes a visceral reaction, your entire body thrumming with pleasure. You can only moan in response, beginning to move back so you can meet each one of his thrusts.

“And this ass-” One of Seungcheol’s hands moves to cup your sensitive flesh, making you groan even louder. “Fucking perfect. Rub your clit for me, want you to cum again.”

Your hand is shaky as you bring it between your legs, finding your sensitive clit. Your core clenches desperately around Seungcheol and he lets out a deep moan of appreciation.

“That’s my good girl, being so good for me. So good at taking orders.”

You can’t help but let out a small laugh. It’s as if things were always meant to be this way, you were meant to let him be in control, not the other way around. This feels so much more natural than you telling him what to do ever did.

“Don’t laugh,” Seungcheol chastises you, fucking you even harder. “I’m trying to be nice to you, like you wanted.”

“I just-” you groan when his cock slams into your gspot. “It was never supposed to be me telling you what to do.”

“I’m glad we agree on something,” Seungcheol muses, his motions slowing ever so slightly. “Fuck this, I want to see you.”

He pulls out of your pussy, flipping you onto your back. The contact of the bed against your ass makes you groan, but the sight of Seungcheol’s perfect body looming over you has you distracted less than a moment later.

His cock is big… cut, curving slightly to the left, with a prominent vein that you want to trace with your tongue-

He presses the head of his length to your pussy, easing himself into you while he positions you in missionary. When he’s fully inside of you again, he meets your gaze, then he looks down at your lips.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he whispers before pressing his mouth to yours.

You grab at his strong shoulders, getting lost in the kiss as he begins to fuck you again, the whole bed shaking with the power of his thrusts.

You’ve never made sounds like this in bed before. You’re moaning like a whore, but Seungcheol eats up every whimper, his tongue gliding against your own.

Your fingers thread through his hair, keeping him close as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge.

The agent pulls away, breathing heavily. “I can feel you clenching, honey, gonna cum again?”

“Gonna cum on your big cock,” you tell him.

“Yeah?”

One of his hands slips between your bodies, fingers applying pressure to your clit.

You whimper loudly, back arching off the bed. Seungcheol takes the opportunity to finally draw your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing over the sensitive bud.

You gasp, body on fire from all the wonderful sensations. “I’m so close-” you tell him.

“Then cum for me,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit even harder. “Cum on my cock.”

It only takes a few more seconds for you to follow through with his command, the cord snapping in your stomach as your release takes over. Your pussy clamps down on Seungcheol, and when he lets out a groan, you know your body is milking him for every drop of cum that he has.

His thrusts have become sloppier, more erratic, deeper- and each one has him kissing your cervix, which is a delightful feeling. 

You hold him to your breast through your high, and he diligently sucks on your nipple, fucking you until he can’t fuck you anymore.

Finally, Seungcheol slumps down against you, applying some of his weight over you like a weighted blanket.

He’s panting hard against your breasts, cheek pressed to the center of your chest.

“Your heart is going wild, honey,” he muses after a moment.

All you can do is laugh, unable to find the words just yet after the power of your release.

Instead, you stroke his hair, and Seungcheol lets out a murmured moan, nuzzling closer to you. “I do love you, you know.”

“I know.”

He chuckles. “You aren’t going to say it back?”

“Take me on a date first,” you tease.

“Tomorrow, if you can still walk, I’ll take you out.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” He presses a kiss to your sternum. “If you can’t walk, I’ll bring the date to you.”

“How romantic,” you say sarcastically.

“Don’t start with me, honey,” he warns.

“I’m not starting anything,” you defend yourself with a giggle.

He looks up at you, eyes sparkling. “Sure you’re not.”

You lean down to kiss him gently, loving how domestic this whole thing has turned. But of course, ever the sex fiend, Seungcheol quickly ruins it. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll fuck you again.”

You can’t help but shake your head. “You promise?”

“If you’re going to talk back like this, make it five.”

He’s such a fuck, but you kind of love him.

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I know recently I've been doing a lot of short and sweet fics, hoping for a longer one next month :)

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

🔮 preview. “We tried letting you be in control,” he responds, pushing your legs together as he straddles you from behind. “It wasn’t as fun as me being in control though."

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, dom/sub themes, powerplays, Seungcheol tries to be a little submissive, he’s not great at following directions, dirty talk, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, blow job, mention of deep throating, nipple play/nipple pinching, creamipie, cumming together, etc…   I petnames. (hers) honey

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.2k I teaser wc. 175

🌙 starring. Seungcheol x afab!Reader

bonus

“Hey, big guy,” you grin as you enter the apartment, eyes finding Seungcheol sitting on the living room couch. “How was your day?”

He pauses his show to look at you, flashing a tired smile. “It was okay.”

“Yikes,” you immediately go to join him on the couch, cuddling up to his side. “The new handler still being a bit of a dick?”

“Joshua was hand-picked by Jeonghan, it’s not like I can do anything about it,” Seungcheol sighs. “How about you, still enjoying the wizz kid?”

“Dino’s a good one,” you insist. “He follows instruction very well.”

Seungcheol scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“You still jealous that I’m in his ear and not yours?” you tease, poking your boyfriend’s chest.

“Don’t go there, honey,” he warns.

“Come on- it could be fun. I think having someone who listens well has built my confidence… you know, we could try it out a little, if you want.”

“You want me to be submissive?” Seungcheol’s brows raise in a sort of shocked amusement. “Not a chance in hell.”

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[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! Just wanted to say I absolutely love your writing! A bit of a request for the batboys (Jason, Tim, Dick, and Damian), just something silly.

I recently saw a video of a girl saying her boyfriend's entire name as if he was in trouble only for her to tell him she loved him. It was funny to me at the time, it was also late at night lol.

Soo... How would the boys react to reader suddenly saying their full name out of the blue as if they were in trouble as a prank? 👀👀🤭

Dick is thinking to death about what he might done to earn you saying his full name, so much so the poor man was sweating bullets which each step he took in your direction

Did he miss an anniversary?

Date night?

Hayley’s vet appointment?

He wanted to know badly so that he could think up a way to make it up to you however you wanted. Steal his clothes because they smell like him, he didn’t care, he just didn’t like you using his full name.

So as he looked you deep in the eyes, mentally preparing for whatever left your mouth, only for you to relax your face and kiss his cheek much to his surprise.

‘I love you.’ You told him sweetly as you smiled at him.

‘What?’ Dick said.

‘I love you.’ You repeated, still smiling.

‘That’s…that’s all you’ve called my full, legal government name for, to tell me you love me?’ Dick asked as though he was waiting for a joke that was never going to come.

‘Yep.’ You said.

‘No catch.’

‘None.’

‘Can you stop calling me Richard now and go back to calling me baby, cutie, dickie bird or -preferable- handsome now?’ Dick again asks as he felt a weight lift off of his shoulders and was finally able to breathe again now that his questions could finally be laid to sleep.

You chuckled as you kissed his lip. ‘Sure, whatever you say, handsome.’

Damian is unfazed.

He’s use to his full name being used and he doesn’t exactly feel anything but annoyance that he has to leave the piece he has spent the better half of a week working on, just to answer your call.

Damian loved you without a doubt but he’s not exactly fond of whenever you try to follow along these tasteless ‘trends.’ Though he knows himself well enough to know that he would never stay upset or mad at you for long, you were his weak spot, his treasure forever and always even if this is the things they kept you entertained.

‘I know you’re not saying my full name for any particular reason my treasure.’ He told you rather plainly.

‘And how would you know there isn’t a reason I called for you?’ You replied, crossing your arms over your chest. Damian copied.

‘Because I have a good memory and I haven’t missed any important date, that’s not until next week, that and the fact that I can see the muscles in your face struggling to keep the smile at bay.’ Damian said as he pointed out your biggest sign that you were lying about something.

You always involuntarily smiled when telling a lie the title made it far easier for Damian to know that what you were saying was far from the truth. It was your Achilles heel and Damian knew how to use it to his advantage.

‘I’m not.’ You said, struggling to stop the smile.

‘You are and you’re doing a bad job at it my sweet.’ He replied as he was now the one cockily smiling, knowing he’s got you where he wants you that you couldn’t do anything but crack under his stare.

‘Fine you loser, I only called you in here to say I love you, there happy?’ You asked as you pouted.

Damian walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. ‘All you had to do is say my treasure.’ Was all he said as he spent the rest of the day with you and Titus.

Jason is immediately in front of you within a heartbeat.

He, much like dick, didn’t like it when you use his full name.

You’re his partner! USE THE CUTE NICKNAMES YOU CHOSE FOR HIM INSTEAD! Who’s this Jason Todd? He only responds to Jaybird, jay jay, or baby with the occasional sweetheart from time to time.

‘Chipmunk, can you please tell me want I did wrong?’ Jason asked as he walked into the kitchen where you called him from.

You furrowed your brows. ‘Wrong? I only called you in here to tell you I love you.’ You replied as Jason started at you for a bit before he pinched your side, making you squeal.

‘You’re a little shit, you know that sweetheart.’ Jason asked as he kept pinching your sides, making you giggle and squeal in his hold. ‘Had me all worked up and everything.’ He adds as he starts biting your neck playfully.

‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Have mercy!’ You cried, trying to push yourself away from Jason but it was proven nearly impossible when your man was a literal wall of muscle.

‘’All I can hear as the squeaks of a cheeky little mouse.’ Is all Jason said as he continued to tickle, pinch at your sides. He hates it when you call him his full name, it reminded him of lesser then ideal times, sure it sounded far sweeter and loved when it was coming from you rather than theirs, but he’d much rather you call him anything it his full name.

Tim knows what you’re up to the very moment you use his full name.

His detective brain kicks into hyperdrive and goes into the logical explanation as to why the sudden change.

You’ve never used it before, so why now did you use it unless you had seen a cute trend or something that you thought was hilarious on TikTok, or on another social media platform and wanted to try it out for the sake of following whatever was the thing to do.

That or you were genuinely mad and he should at least go talk to you in hopes of de escalating the situation, should it come to it.

‘I love you.’ You said.

‘You’ve said my full name, lured me out of my room, just to say I love you?’ Tim asked with a raised brow as though his heart wasn’t going nuts once again with how much your words easily affected him.

You paused for a brief moment before smiling. ‘Yeah sounds about right.’

Tim sighs but he couldn’t help but feel a smile creep up on his lips. ‘You’re ridiculous sometimes I swear.’ He says under his breath, ‘you almost had me second guessing myself there but I’m glad this is what you called me out for instead.’ He finished as he pressed his forehead against your own, feeling relaxed and clear minded once more.

‘You may say I’m ridiculous but you love it when I keep you on your toes, it’s like a brain exercise in a way.’ You cheekily told him as you kissed his cheek.

‘You call that a brain exercise?’ Tim said. ‘That was barely a brain activity but more like a brain fart if anything.’ He said as you pouted and smacked his bicep, causing him to smile.

‘We can’t all be smart asses like you drake.’ You said and Tim shrugged as he tugged you close.

‘True but you certainly are a pain in the ass.’ Tim replied, which only made you slap his bicep again as he chuckled and you bury your head into his neck.

[ikeuverse]

two worlds | psh

pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader  genres: angst, smut, slight fluff wc: 7.6k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : some swearing, alcohol consumption, controlling father, a little argument. sex on the kitchen worktop, quick female masturbation, unprotected sex (pack before use, and do it safely!!!), cumming inside, sunghoon is too soft for now, i think that's it. lmk if i missed anything.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : you and sunghoon have known each other since university, but you belong to different worlds. that wouldn't be a factor that would prevent you and him from getting together, if it weren't for the fear of confessing to each other and, when that happened, you wouldn't be able to tell him that you were going away… to another country.

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : i went through so many plots until i ended up with this one. it was my work after more than a month of writer's block, so i can't say if i'm satisfied with it or not. but at least it helped me write something. all feedback is appreciated, so i hope you like it!

꒰ 𝅄 part 2 | masterlist ꒱

You thought it would be a good idea to go into the bar even though you had cried for countless hours before being there. Hesitating in that particular place wasn't something new for you, after all, it was where your friends met every Friday night.

You just happened to be there alone and in the middle of a Wednesday. The stress of your daily life and the weight you were carrying for fulfilling the wishes of your self-centered and petty father only made your mind spin and you succumbed to an absurd urge to drop everything and run. And you ran to the bar you knew so well. But not because you needed a drink urgently – although you knew the alcohol would be consumed somehow – but because someone there was your refuge at times like these.

Park Sunghoon was the owner of the best-known and most popular bar. Because he was the epitome of beauty, kind, and polite even in a sea of people who were completely drunk and came to that place looking to dance, rub themselves, and wind up with someone. But he was also known as your best friend since university and the guy who stole your heart.

It was hard not to fall in love with Sunghoon when he treated you so well from the moment you and he shared a few classes. When he brought you a steaming cup of coffee twice a week from his grandfather's coffee shop because you'd been there once and said you liked it. How did he remember that? You wondered every time you took a sip of the drink. But Sunghoon only thought, how could he forget?

All the details surrounding you were hard to forget and he came to realize that this was part of the little feeling that was going on between the two of you, even though Sunghoon was afraid to ask you out. Not because it would ruin the friendship, he was very forward-thinking and knew that neither you nor he would be able to do that because it was something beyond what the two of you shared. But because the worlds in which you and he lived were completely different.

You were studying to improve your knowledge and take over your father's company. You wore social clothes, high heels, and the most expensive imported perfumes so that you could meet your father's clients, who would be yours in the future, while you drank expensive wine and listened to banal conversations. At the same time, Sunghoon studied to understand how the corporate world worked, and business and to be able to take over his grandfather's coffee shop. When he passed away, he left it in his name and turned it into the bar it is today. Wearing shabby clothes, torn jeans, and blouses stained with all kinds of drink and food that he had already lost count of.

The coffee shop would have been very welcome if he was still a university student looking for a part-time job just to make some extra money, but with the end of university and a life full of bills and supporting himself, a bar would make a lot more money because he was now an adult. And adults liked alcohol, loud music, and a lot of flirting.

That's what he thought when he changed everything, from the paintings on the wall to the name of the establishment. His best friends became his partners to help run the bar and that's what helped him get a bit more of a head start on sales and popularity. Because they were well-known people at the university, and with Sunghoon being part of the soccer team and the popular kids, this consequently attracted many people who studied with them to become regular customers there.

You and your friends were one of them. Although you also liked to go to see Sunghoon and his best friends who were also your friends. That's why Fridays became a casual get-together for your group of friends.

But it wasn't today and that made you a little more apprehensive and tearful because it was the first time you'd been to the bar alone. You didn't go in with a friend or one of the boys waiting at the door to take you to the table they'd booked for the night.

Your steps were dragged and nervous as you passed people, bodies sweaty and dancing. Loud conversations as you heard someone cursing a soccer team from last night, another group of friends talking about kissing someone at the next table. You focused on every corner even though you didn't want to focus on anything and just went to the bar, lucky if any of the boys were there.

As soon as you finally got close, a few more steps and you'd be near the counter, but not before stopping and taking a look. Quickly sniffling to try to keep away the tears that were still collecting in your eyes because you didn't want any of your friends to see you cry. If you were lucky, the light in the bar would be so dark that it would camouflage your true face and you could make up an excuse and say that you just stopped by to say hello because you were nearby.

Your hands were hesitant as soon as you touched the counter in the empty space when a couple walked away after picking up their drinks and heading for the dance floor.

"Hello, welcome. What can I do—" Jay was one of Sunghoon's best friends and very much your friend too, not least because he was your best friend's boyfriend "Y/n?" his eyebrows arched in surprise and a small smile appeared on his lips as soon as he saw you.

"Hi, Jay" you tried your best not to sound shaky, although you knew that the volume of the music would mask your true feelings.

"What are you doing here?" he looked at you and then around "Is Stella or the girls with you?"

"No, no. I came alone" you pulled up a stool to sit down, your hands resting on the marble of the counter and your eyes darting to the numerous bottles behind Jay before you focused your gaze on him.

"Did you come for a drink?" he followed your gaze as you turned away momentarily, noticing that you were staring at the whisky bottles. After turning back to you, Jay sighed when you nodded slightly "On a Wednesday?"

"Are you monitoring me, Jongseong?"

"Ugh, I hate it when you all call me that, you sound like you're mad" he snapped and walked over to the side of the whisky bottles. Pulling out a bottle and a shot glass, Jay slid it in front of him and filled some of the contents.

Your eyes flicked to the label, slowly reading Hennessy. The brand was known to you, it was one of the whiskies your father used to drink. Feeling the burning sensation he supposedly felt every time he drank made you shiver, not from the alcohol itself, but from thinking about your father at that moment.

"Thank you" you said to Jay as soon as he held out the glass to you. A small smile captured his lips as you turned the glass over in one go.

"For God's sake, Y/n, take it easy" he warned "If you're having a bad day, this will only get worse."

"One more, please" you tried to ignore his caution. Jay just rolled his eyes and took the empty glass from your hand, filling it much less than the first shot.

Then the second, third, and fourth he didn't even want to say much. Although he had already put a glass of water in with the glass of whisky he had poured for you. Jay's silent request is for you to have at least a little more water next time.

You could protest and grumble at how overprotective he was, remembering how he was with Stella in the first place. Then with you and your other friends because, according to Jay, anyone who looked after his girlfriend also deserved to be looked after. That's why he was so protective and nice to you.

But this overprotection was nothing compared to Sunghoon's with you, and for a second your mind switched off from the fact that he could be there and would show up at any moment. You just didn't realize that it would be abruptly, knocking the glass out of your hand and slamming it against the counter.

"You've had too much to drink" didn't take a genius or being drunk enough to register Sunghoon's voice entering your ears. You only refused to turn towards him, but you felt the boy's presence right behind you.

"I think I'm a customer here today, so Jay, please" you ignored the fact that the glass was next to Sunghoon's hand and pulled it out to hand it to Jay.

You couldn't register his expression when he saw you pick up the glass, because your body was turned just in time along with the stool you were sitting on. Facing Sunghoon, who lowered himself to the level of your face.

"You're going home, right? I'll drive you" he said.

"Nope" you muttered back.

"We're not having this conversation here, Y/n."

"And nowhere else" your pout almost made him give in and lean forward to kiss you, but Sunghoon held back, his hands squeezing the upholstery of the seat you were sitting on and slowly rubbing the side of his thumbs against your leg.

He opened his mouth to say more, to force you out of there, or to make fun of the fact that he had been watching you for a while as you drank and talked to Jay while he served other people at the bar. He wanted to tell you more, to say that his heart was racing with worry because you were never one to drink like that and it was strange to see you so resistant. But all his words fell flat when Sunghoon looked deep into your eyes and saw you crumble.

You let the tears fall freely down your cheeks and the urge to sniffle and sob that you'd been holding in all night now surfaced when he wrapped his arms around you to hold you against his chest.

"Jay, you can take over here, right?" he asked.

"Sure, go ahead, mate" Jay said "Call me if you need anything, me and the boys will lock up here and run to you two."

You could imagine the sad smile Jay was giving Sunghoon to try and comfort him as he lifted you off the bar stool and walked with you through all those drunk people until he left. Still holding you against him for fear that someone might touch you or that you might disappear from his sight, Sunghoon didn't want anything to happen to you.

"Did you come by car?" he asked when the two of you arrived outside. The icy wind didn't even tickle your body because you were so immersed in Sunghoon's arms that you couldn't feel anything.

Pointing in the direction of the parking lot, he pulled you along with him until he was able to locate your car without too much effort.

"I need your keys" he asked, releasing your arms to turn towards you and look at you straight on.

Noticing every little feature of you since you'd arrived at the bar. The office clothes hugged your curves, and every piece of clothing looked great on you. The combinations of turquoise and gray further enhanced your beauty and every feature that Sunghoon had fallen in love with.

"No purse?"

"In the car" you said in a tearful voice, reaching for the keys in the back pocket of the pants you were wearing to hand them to him.

Sunghoon took them and unlocked the alarm for you both to get in, holding the passenger door for you until you sat down and he could close the door. Running to the driver's side and getting in too.

If it had been any other time, that silence between the two of you would have been comfortable and just what you needed amid so much confusion in your week. But it was killing you because you knew that Sunghoon looked furious. Maybe at you, you didn't know for sure, but you shrugged when you felt the tears still falling down your cheeks.

"I'm sorry" you whispered as quietly as you could, breaking the silence inside the car, which was still at a complete standstill.

The only sound coming from Sunghoon's lips were the interspersed sighs he gave, running his hands over his face and then through his hair countless times. Well, your apology shouldn't be accepted, after all, because on another occasion he would say that you didn't need to apologize. That it wasn't your fault or anything to comfort you. But Sunghoon wasn't saying anything and that made you cry even more.

You turned your face towards him to see if there was any glimmer of comfort or something you could cling to so that he wouldn't feel that way. Your eyes traveled down his figure, noticing the contrast in clothing the two of you were wearing. Sunghoon was wearing a beige shirt with a huge stain near the sleeve, probably a drink that some customer had knocked over or that he or the boys had made at the bar. There was a small tear in the collar and it was halfway down his hip. Sunghoon's torn and worn jeans gave the outfit a total charm and it made you smile through your tears because it was so characteristic of him.

"Sunghoon…" you decided to call him after you didn't get an answer from him, earning you his gaze straight away.

Sunghoon's brow furrowed at the sight of you crying next to him and his heart squeezed even tighter because he didn't know how to act in the face of so much worry and nervousness. He had seen you cry many times before, but what had gotten into him to act like that? Why was he being so rude when all you had done was go to his bar to drink and cry? Something was happening and he needed to act, but he wasn't thinking straight.

So he didn't think much of it either when he turned and raised his hands to hold your face, bringing your face close to his and leaning his forehead against yours. That act in itself was something between you and him beyond intimacy. Something the two of you shared, in a mute attempt to convey the will to go further. To break through that barrier to touch lips and kiss. But neither you nor Sunghoon had ever done that.

His thumbs brushed against your cheek, the delicate touch contrasting with the roughness of Sunghoon's skin against yours. His breath hitched against your trembling lips and you almost asked him to go further, but you held back.

"Are you going to work tomorrow?" he asked suddenly, in a whisper. His thumbs were still caressing your cheeks and you let out a shaky sigh at the question.

"I don't want to set foot in that place any time soon" you said.

Opening your eyes to find Sunghoon's gaze already on you, your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when he looked directly at your lips. But just as quickly as he did this, he managed to look away and back at you properly.

"So I'm spending the night in your apartment" he kissed your forehead, lingering his lips against your skin before pulling away and straightening up in the driver's seat "You need to tell me why you showed up here at the bar on a Wednesday, crying."

"And you'll need to tell me why you fought with me today" you pouted, hearing him laugh for the first time since you met that night.

Sunghoon agreed, starting the car's engine to get out of there and head straight to his apartment.

Staying up late talking about what had caused all this was the right thing to do, even if your body was begging for some sleep after a long hot bath. You remember telling Sunghoon that it was trouble with your father, as usual. The way the man wanted to control your life in the worst possible way, not content with having decided your future, he wanted to decide anything else that involved you.

But the subject was cut off there, you didn't want to tell your best friend that the real reason you were crying wasn't even your father's control over your life and his idiotic hunches, but that in a few weeks, you wouldn't be here anymore. You would no longer live in this country and, worst of all, you would no longer see Sunghoon. That was better left unsaid as you fell asleep in his arms, preventing him from leaving your bed after hearing all your wails, promising that you wouldn't cry about it anymore.

Even though it was hard to think that you would no longer be close to him. That, in all this time, you hadn't even managed to declare yourself or hear a statement from him. So now being in another country, with unrequited love – or so you both thought – couldn't be worse.

Either that or the little hangover that took over your body as soon as dawn broke and you opened your eyes. The slight difficulty in keeping them open when you groped around and didn't feel Sunghoon's warm body anywhere. Had he already left, then? Or had he decided to sleep in the guest room in the middle of the night? This last option is ruled out because you remember turning over a few times in the early hours of the morning or stirring in your sleep and feeling his arms around you. It was one of the times he slept in the same bed as you, doing so only when your friends went to sleep in your apartment and used the other two spare bedrooms. This was done more often than you thought, but it wasn't so important to think about it now.

Sitting up in bed after much pondering, you felt your head spin a little and your eyes finally open. Contemplating the moment when you should have been at your father's company – which would soon be yours – but here you were, in your apartment after a wave of hangover hit on a Thursday morning. It wasn't that bad, you remember doing it a few times while you were at college. The only difference was that the place would be full of university students, your friends who were supposed to meet up at the bar on Friday. But one of them was certainly there in your apartment at that moment, and you realized it as soon as you got out of bed to walk out of the room.

The smell of food invaded your nostrils as you walked down the corridor to the top of the stairs. Noises of cutlery and frying and an undeniable smell of coffee pulled you further and further into the kitchen of your apartment. Sunghoon was unbelievable and you knew he would do anything to see you well. You just didn't know that he would prepare an entire breakfast when the scene in front of you said so.

"Good morning" he smiled at you when he saw you leaning against the doorframe, sleepy and even more beautiful than he remembered.

Your smile soon followed and you almost fell back when your eyes finally caught up with him. He had slept without his shirt on, but seeing him like that right in front of you was too much. Sunghoon was wearing sweatpants belonging to Jake, who always left his or Jay's clothes at your apartment every time he went there with you, Stella, and his girlfriend. Sunghoon also had a few pieces here and there, but Jake's pants were the first he'd found the night before, so putting them on quickly to wrap you in a hug was the only thing he could think of at the moment.

"Good morning" you decided, pushing aside any thoughts and smiling at him, approaching in slow steps the slender, gorgeous guy who was preparing a mug of coffee "Is that for me?"

He hummed excitedly, putting a few things into the mug before turning and handing it to you.

"I found some things in your cupboard and I think I may have managed to replicate my grandfather's coffee, the one we had at university."

"Don't play games with me" you pouted as you picked up the mug "Are you serious?"

He leaned down to touch his lips to the top of your head, sniffing your hair and smelling the shampoo on your strands.

"You tell me" Sunghoon moved away to finish making the pancakes and arrange the bacon and eggs on the table on the other side of the counter, where he turned around and walked away from you.

Your eyes captured the whole moment as he took a long sip of coffee. It was just like his grandfather's, perhaps with a little more cinnamon and a hint of vanilla that you felt as the liquid went down your throat. It might have been Sunghoon's style, but the essence was completely his grandfather's from what you remembered from university. Smiling at this, you watched him set up the whole breakfast game while humming some tune you couldn't identify because your brain was focusing on his every move. The muscles flexed as he bent over to arrange the plates, or how his brow furrowed as he balanced the juice container on the table.

You didn't want to feel your heart squeeze at that scene because Sunghoon had already done it a few times. For both you and your friends, it was normal to see him excited about making breakfast or being so domestic. But it wasn't normal for you to feel like you might explode, that you needed to tell him that in a few weeks, you'd both be far enough apart that he'd – maybe – even forget about you.

"Hey, Y/n" his voice was desperate and snapped you out of your thoughts when you noticed him running away from where you were to come towards you. You only realized you were crying when he took the mug from your hand and ran his fingers down your cheek, collecting your freshly fallen tears "What happened? Did I do something wrong or…?"

"No, you didn't do anything wrong" you sobbed quietly, your hands encircling his fists as Sunghoon held your face between them.

"So what happened?" he asked. "Is there something else bothering you?"

Yes. I'm practically moving out and we won't see each other for who knows how long. You choked on that thought as you looked into his eyes, the concern evident and the glint that adorned the dark orbs that you admired so much.

Your thoughts were consuming you as Sunghoon leaned towards you, trying to listen or hoping that words would come out of your mouth so that he could understand what was happening to you. In his mind, something at breakfast or the night before was completely wrong.

He may have overstepped the mark when he held you while you slept, keeping you close to his body the whole time. Or that he went through your kitchen and prepared a huge breakfast on a weekday when you were supposed to be in your office and you were here with him. But that didn't make sense and he just wanted to think that you were vulnerable from having bad times with your father and the weight on your back from trying to please him at all costs.

Sunghoon understood how burdened you were by this how much you disliked what you had and how your relationship with your father was, he understood from the moment you two met. That's what made you fall in love with him because he always understood you. And he fell in love with you because he saw you beyond any designer clothes you wore or jewelry your father gave you to put around your neck. He saw your eyes, your smile, he saw you for real.

And he was seeing it now, in front of him in your kitchen, and as your tears slowly dried until you stopped crying. Sunghoon thought about asking you again what had happened or if you wanted him to leave so you could be alone, but it was his turn to have his mind flooded with nothing but you when he felt your lips on his.

Suddenly, without any pretext, you simply leaned forward and kissed him.

Sunghoon's hands ran to your waist and pulled you against his body, afraid that this was his mind betraying him, or that he was daydreaming about your lips against his. But as soon as you whimpered softly to ask for permission to kiss him, he knew he wasn't dreaming.

Tongues soon intertwined and the taste of coffee in your mouth quickly passed into his mouth, making Sunghoon moan softly as he pressed you between his body and the kitchen counter. It was a repressed feeling since the time you two discovered such feelings and that you held onto until the present moment. If he had known that kissing you would be like this, that your mouth would fit perfectly on his, and that you would have the sweetest breath against his lips, Sunghoon would have kissed you much sooner. He would have taken advantage of every opportunity he had around you, your mouth, or the moments when you two almost kissed by accident. He should have done all this before because it was heavenly to feel your mouth move against his.

It was all too much and the way you were making him feel, but when your nails slid to the back of his neck, sanity had long since left Sunghoon's body. He slid his hands down your thighs and supported your body to place you sitting on the kitchen counter. The icy marble on your thighs and half of your ass where the shorts couldn't cover, you moaned against his mouth and leaned your body forward with a shiver running through you. Your chest pressed against his and Sunghoon fit between your legs, as little space as possible between the two of you.

Pulling away after a long while, he rolled his eyes to your lips to notice a thin layer of saliva and the redness of your bottom lip. Swollen and all beautiful while he wasn't much different. Your chest rose and fell to normalize your breathing and he kept his hands resting on the counter beside each of your thighs.

“Y/n” he called your name, voice hoarse like a plea for you to keep him between your legs even after the kiss was over.

"Yeah?" you answered him, hands running down his chest and feeling Sunghoon's heart speed up under your fingers when your hand stopped there. Your eyes stared into his as your legs pressed against Sunghoon's ass to press him between your legs.

“Shit” he moaned as the growing erection pressed between your legs, the heat of your still-covered pussy making him shudder.

Quickly Sunghoon's hands slid down your thighs and went to the waistband of your pajama shorts, grabbing the fabric without taking it out of place. You tightened your legs around his waist again and at that moment you saw him gain courage and roll your hips against his. Sunghoon’s dick was rock hard and you couldn’t hold back your moan as the perfect movement made the head of his dick press against your swollen clit. The wonderful friction of dry fucking as he alternated his hips between rolling and going back and forth, only to be able to draw moans from your lips each time his dick got the perfect pressure on your pussy.

“Sunghoon” you moaned his name, hands moving down from his chest to his stomach slowly. The nail scratched all the way down forming a red trail against the white skin in front of you. You stopped with your fingers on the waistband of the pants he was wearing, swallowing hard when his hand on the waistband of your shorts went down.

"Yes, my love?" he whispered. So deep making your pussy clench around nothing, and it was pathetic how you felt like this while he had barely touched you.

“Can you—” your voice hitched, your eyes closed quickly when Sunghoon's fingers entered your shorts and panties, going straight to your wet clit.

His moan made you moan too, combined with the pressure of his fingertips rubbing circles on your muscles in need of attention. It felt so good not to have to ask him for much, knowing that the impulse to kiss him was making you do this kind of thing that you didn't even know would happen. Much less him.

Feeling like you had kissed him was something Sunghoon never thought would happen, especially since you were always shyer than him. All the advances and physical contact between the two of you came from him, so he thought that, if one day there was a kiss between you and him, he would definitely make the first move. But since it hadn't happened, Sunghoon was left to enjoy that moment because he knew he was giving himself as much as you.

You could no longer hold back the desire he had to have you in his arms, at his fingertips, wrapped around his dick. Sunghoon wanted to feel you.

"That is good?" he asked as he ran his fingers down your pussy lips, parting them with the obscene sound of your wetness spreading. You would be embarrassed just to hear it, but you no longer cared as his fingers worked wonders on your pussy.

“That feels wonderful” you moaned as he circled his index finger around your entrance, feeling like you had clenched around nothing. As impatient as he is.

With a movement away, you almost cried when you no longer felt Sunghoon's fingers in your pussy. Almost grabbing him back and shoving his hand where you needed him most. But everything calmed down when you saw that he was grabbing your shorts and panties, asking you to lift your hips so he could remove what was getting in the way.

Soon the pieces of clothing were on the floor and you thanked the gods for being free down there, with his hand returning to surround your clit in circular movements. Sunghoon's nimble and skilled fingers made small drawings on your pussy while his other hand went up to your face and held it. Cupped between your cheek and neck so that he kept your face close to his while the fingers in your pussy were slid to your entrance.

“Don’t hide your sounds from me, okay?” he asked as he introduced two fingers at once, watching you bite your bottom lip hard. Sunghoon smiled when you opened your eyes to look at him, nodding as you let your moans come out freely.

The stretch of your pussy felt divine to him, his fingers covered in arousal and your walls clenching so deliciously as he went deeper with slow movements. Not because he wanted to torture you, but because he was taking his time as he felt you getting wetter and wetter so he could take his cock.

Meanwhile, his hands reached down with difficulty to the waistband of the pants he wore to sleep, pushing it down just to free the head of his dick. Because you didn't have enough strength to continue the work since Sunghoon's fingers in your pussy took away any concentration you had. He chuckled softly at your snort of displeasure at not getting what he wanted to do, then he leaned in to kiss your lips.

A tender, slow, and affectionate kiss. With your tongues moving against each other romantically, silently conveying that you two loved each other, even if it was never said in the first place.

Sunghoon removed his fingers from your pussy with a pornographic pop due to the amount of juices coming out of there. He took the opportunity to lower his pants to his feet and use his fingers, wet with your essence, to wrap around the head of his dick and smear it along with the precum that came out of there. That scene could be worth any orgasm he had as you watched him slowly masturbate in front of you, with his finger full of you and his precum. This was making you so hot that you decided to take off your pajama shirt, now matching his nudity.

You pulled him by the back of his head and kissed him. Wanting to occupy your mouth or something other than focusing on his dick that was already throbbing to be inside you, soon feeling him pull you closer to the edge of the kitchen counter and feeling his dick against your thigh.

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” he asked gently against your lips, you sighed softly and agreed, whispering a slow “yes” to him.

As if he already knew your body, Sunghoon was precise in positioning the head of his dick in your pussy and sliding it from your clit, the soaked lips, and your entrance. Collecting even more of your juices until the head of his cock was in your hole. Slowly entering your pussy with almost stopping movements, just so that you felt comfortable each time he moved inside you to penetrate a little more.

Your nails scratched every inch of his skin that was visible and touchable to you, and he smiled, satisfied, knowing that those marks would remain on his skin for a long time. Not that it was a bother because Sunghoon would happily tell anyone who asked that it was his girl who had done it.

“Fuck” you grunted as his pelvis finally slammed against yours, his dick completely inside you. Big and throbbing, touching your spongy part in a slow movement that he made as he started to pull out and re-enter your pussy.

“Are you—” he moaned “Fuck, Y/n” Sunghoon’s lips found yours again.

Your hot pussy sucking his cock was the best feeling Sunghoon could have felt in his life. It was as if your pussy had molded itself to him in just a few seconds while he was inside you, no longer wanting to come out.

“You can move now, Hoonie” calling him that nickname always made something in Sunghoon light up, but the way you whimpered and then moaned, made Sunghoon's hips slam hard against yours.

He would even apologize for how careless he was in fucking you like that because he wanted to take it slow and take his time. He wanted to enjoy every movement, but the excitement of hearing you call him made something click in him.

Responding to your requests, Sunghoon began to move between your legs. His cock moved in and out slowly but hit you hard every time his pelvis met yours. The sound of skin slapping together, accompanied by the moans you two shared was the soundtrack of that kitchen. Sunghoon went back to cupping your face in his hands, cupping each side of your cheek to keep your face in place as he fucked your hips against his. Your legs wrapped around him pressing your thighs against his waist to press him further as he bottomed out, his cock reaching your cervix with each hard thrust until the end.

“You feel so good, love” he moaned close to your mouth, his gaze falling between your bodies to see his cock being swallowed by your pussy. The white ring of his excitement wetting his dick to his pelvis when he got close to your pussy.

The lazy smile he gave you when he looked back at you, his face fucked up and his eyes focused on his every move.

“Hoonie” you called him.

"Yes, love?" he leaned in, mouth brushing against his and hip movements never stopping as he tried to hear what you had to say.

It could be the horniness taking over you, or the need to say it because you didn't know when you would have another opportunity. And if it would have. He could run away and never see you again, but you would need to take that chance while you were being fucked by him in your kitchen.

Your hands reached for his hands on your face, sliding one of them along the prominent veins on Sunghoon's forearm. He sighed softly at the touch, smiling against your mouth.

“I'm in love with you” your voice followed by a loud moan as he slammed his hips against yours, his cock entering your pussy completely.

The action itself was a shock because he wasn't expecting it. Maybe hearing you say that he was doing great, that his cock was something amazing, or something related to the sex you two were sharing. But never something he looked forward to hearing, not when his dick was buried inside your pussy.

Sunghoon slowed down the pace of his thrusts, remaining with his hands on your face before taking your lips in a slow kiss, sucking the tip of your tongue to your lower lip.

“I've always wanted to hear that” he sighed breathlessly, one of his thumbs going down to your bottom lip and pressing there “Because I've been in love with you since we met, Y/n.”

It would be romantically beautiful if he didn't have his hair disheveled, sweaty, and plastered to his forehead. And if you weren't oozing excitement from your pussy onto the kitchen counter and his dick if your body wasn't on the verge of exploding. But no matter how you and him were, hearing that made things a little better for you.

“Then show me” you whispered “Make me cum on your cock.”

He just nodded without having the courage to contradict you or say how sexy you were commanding him like that. Because Sunghoon also wanted to cum and it wasn't much different from you.

Returning the ministrations of your hips against his and burying his cock in you, he accelerated the pace of his thrusts, and the sound of skin slapping filled the kitchen again. His cock buried itself deeper and deeper into your pussy and soaked between your thighs and his abdomen each time he went even deeper into you.

Sunghoon pressed his thumb again on your lower lip, collecting some of your saliva so he could wet his finger and go down to your clit. Spreading your saliva there to stimulate the neglected muscle as he fucked his dick inside you.

“Come for me then, love. I want to hear you moan my name” he whispered close to your ear, sliding his mouth down your neck and biting the place eagerly.

Teeth dug into your skin as he sped up his thrusts as he felt his cock pulse inside you and your pussy squeeze him against its walls. Sunghoon could scream right then and there when he felt you contract around him, moaning his name as he asked and writhing on the kitchen counter. Your nails dug into his shoulders as a way to balance himself, taking possession of the man who fucked you so good and squeezed your clit until he extracted the last drop of your cum.

“I want you to cum inside me” you whispered close to his ear, taking advantage of the fact that Sunghoon’s lips were still on your neck “Please, Hoonie.”

You could be a huge motherfucker and he had never seen that side of you until now. But it also wasn't complaining that you were like that with him, on the contrary. It was great to see this side of you from the angle and position he was in.

Sunghoon gave a few more thrusts into your convulsing and overstimulated pussy, going deep with his dick until jets of cum painted each of your walls white, feeling the heat take over your pussy as he slid his dick inside you. Pulsating and incredibly skilled, pushing harder and harder until he stopped cumming inside you.

He was stunned and panting, teeth sliding across your skin and a hickey left in place before he pulled away to rest his forehead against yours. Still keeping his cock inside you to have the heat of your pussy envelop him a little more.

“You…” he started saying, clearing his throat when he felt it dry. You knew what he was going to say, trying not to show any sadness and just focusing on the moment he was having. “You really meant that, didn’t you?”

“About being in love with you?” you asked, seeing him agree with a shy nod. As if he didn’t still have his dick inside you and had fucked you just a few minutes ago “Of course I do.”

“Good” Sunghoon smiled at you, kissing your lips to get out of your pussy and prevent you both from moaning loudly at the feeling of each other’s emptiness “Now let’s clean ourselves up, shall we?”

It was your turn to agree, accepting his help to get off the counter and go to your room.

You didn’t want to say anything to him about not seeing each other anymore or about how you were leaving. Many possibilities were running around your mind and you thought of something that might work. But none of them were involved in facing Sunghoon face to face after today.

"A letter? Who would send that nowadays?” Sunghoon laughed as he took the envelope from Jay's hand, rolling his eyes and pulling out a chair to sit down.

It was close to lunch and the bar wasn't even close to opening, but he and his best friends always went at that time to have lunch together and clean the bar before the night was full of the customers they always used to come to.

It was Friday and he was excited because he knew he would spend time with his friends and, more than that, he would spend his time with you. He would finally have you with him after telling you he was in love with you and hearing that you were in love with him back. Sunghoon could have sworn this was all a dream because less than two days ago he heard it, waiting for a long time since college.

But if all the waiting was made up for with the sex you two had in the kitchen, then continued in the bedroom and ended up in the bathroom of your apartment, he would be completely happy with having waited so long.

“Open it already, dude” Jay whined “Or I’ll do it and read it out loud.”

Sunghoon denied all of Jay's theatrics and rolled his eyes, opening the envelope that had no sender, only the recipient. He sighed as he unfolded the paper inside.

“It’s a letter from Y/n” he smiled at the paper when he recognized your handwriting.

Jay also smiled, remembering the day before when he received Sunghoon's call after he left your house. Telling everything that had happened, maybe omitting some details so it wouldn't be so embarrassing for Jay, but he still wanted to tell about the small statement. About how he saw the sparkle in his eyes when he heard that you were in love with him and how you shivered in his arms when he heard that it was reciprocal.

But also, how could it not? Sunghoon would be crazy if he wasn't in love with you back. He would call himself every name possible for not realizing how amazing you were and how passionate you were too.

As he read that letter, the smile disappeared and Jay did the same, not understanding why Sunghoon seemed so apprehensive reading something you had sent him. Not after the time the two of you shared.

“Hey, dude” Jay called him, but all Sunghoon did was crumple up that paper and throw it on the table.

Leaving without saying a single word he rolled up the bar door and disappeared from there.

“What happened to him?” Heeseung appeared next, startled by the noise the door made as soon as Sunghoon left.

Jay was just as confused as he was, not wanting to invade his friend's privacy, but he was worried and knew that Sunghoon or Heeseung would do the same for him if they saw him like that. So the boy did the most sensible thing, which was to crumple the paper to read the letter you had written to Sunghoon.

His eyes widened with each word before reading specific things you had written, one of them being the reason why Sunghoon had left there like that.

Maybe it was our last moment together because, in a few weeks, I'm moving to Switzerland. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I just… I was scared.

Jay put the pieces together little by little. So that was the reason that made you go to the bar crying on Wednesday, you were moving to Switzerland. And you would lose Sunghoon one way or another because you certainly had your father's hand in this decision, which certainly wasn't his.

Now all that was left was to know what the boy would do with this information, because the way Sunghoon left that bar, he hadn't taken the news very well.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[lvrxly]

singledad!Ghost who lives next door with his little boy, he asks you to babysit constantly due to his job and constant busy schedule full of who knows what, he doesn't trust anyone else to know what his kid needs and likes since he grew up around you.

"Thanks again for this y/n, I should be back around 9pm, please try and get him to bed before then," Ghost says frantically as he passes his son over to you along with his diaper bag and favorite blanket.

He had a date scheduled tonight with a lady he met through his best friend, John MacTavish. You nod and wave Simon goodbye, shutting the door with a sigh as you put his son down and watch him run towards the corner you have filled with toys just for him. What the hell were you doing...

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

singledad!Ghost who has to let himself into your house at 10pm because you weren't answering the door. He got back later than expected but still, he expected you to be up. But he freezes at the door, the key still in the lock as he stares at your couch.

The door clicks open as Simon uses the key that was poorly hidden under your doormat. He's told you to change the location countless times but you don't listen, you never do. With a soft sigh he is about to speak but freezes as his eyes land on your couch.

There you laid on your back, an arm falling off the couch and a leg propped up on the back cushion, snoring lightly. That position couldn't have been that comfortable. But that's not what made him freeze. It was how his son was laying on your chest, fast asleep with his favorite blanket draped over his back. You looked as if his son was your own.

Simon has been so dumb..You had been treating his son as your own all this time, and he never saw it. He also never had seen how much he loved how you looked with his son in your arms...

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

singledad!Ghost who drops his son off with his parents for the weekend, coming over to your house with a single rose and a bottle of champagne. It's not a date, he states, more of a friends hanging out without the ruckus of a little boy running around.

"No really, you're such a big help, I honestly don't know what I'd do without you. And he loves you a lot." Simon is more soft spoken than usual as he sits at your kitchen counter, twirling the rose between his fingertips. You're frantically searching your cabinets for those champagne glasses you got all those years ago that you've never used. You swear you still had them.

"It's no biggy. He's a good kid, a joy to have around and probably one of my only friends!" You laugh, sighing after you cant find those dumbass champagne glasses and grabbing two mugs out of the cabinet instead. Not quite what you'd normally drink something like champagne out of, but it would have to work.

"So I'm not considered a friend?" Simon says with a hurt tone, taking the mug with a raised brow and a laugh. He then looks down at the mug to which it read "Male Tears" in black lettering on the front. His shoulders shake in silent laughter.

"Eh, I kinda like your son more than you, he's less broody," You tease, pouring the champagne into each of your mugs. Your mug saying "Reading is Sexy" with blue lettering. You would be lying if you said you didn't have some questionable mug choices.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

a/n: kinda wanna turn this into a fic...should I?

EDIT: FIC HAS BEEN POSTED <33

[bunny-jpeg]

my woman

capt. john price

cw: ex husband!price, jealousy, possessive behaviour, breeding, dark-ish themes, baby trapping, dark!john, proceed with caution!!

bunny says: happy birthday to me <3

you couldn't take it anymore. the stress of his job, the lonely nights, the distance was all too much for you. it broke you honestly, you couldn't be that woman for him. the idea of him coming home in a box made you overwhelmed at times.

price understood, he didn't even try to push against the divorce. but that didn't mean that he left you alone. if anything he pushed himself further into your life. that charming smile and those blue eyes, his hearty laugh and his rumble of a voice.

"c'mon, love. who's been over?" he said while standing at your front door. he stood a good head over you, he was broad as well. his eyes were cold as he asked again, "who's been over, lovie?"

you swallowed, "my sister she came over to see how i was doin'. plus, we're not married anymore, i can have whoever i want over."

price looked at you, "i pay for this place, technically i can decide who comes in and who leaves." he brushed past you and walked into the flat. hands in his jeans as he looked around.

you knew you couldn't physically kick him out, it was like an ant pushing a boulder! you stayed far back from him with your arms crossed, "john, get out."

he peeked into the kitchen before he walked in and said, "don't think so, love. i have to make sure that my girl is behavin'." he opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk, "oat milk drinker, now?"

your throat tightened, "i had a friend over."

price looked at the carton, "must've been over a lot, or used a lot of milk." he shook the carton, "almost empty."

your stomach flipped. after your divorce you had met a lovely man who worked stable hours and had a winning smile. but price didn't need to know that.

"you bringin' men into my home, fuckin' them on sheets i bought. you whorin' yourself out now, love?" his voice was laced with venom as he put the carton down, "everything you are, i made. from your rank when you were servin' to the home you live in." he got closer to you.

you swallowed, "john, leave."

"no, no." he closed the gap between you two. he took you by the wrists and leaned in, "no woman of mine is gonna be a cheap fuckin' slag."

"i'm not your woman, your girl or your wife."

"then maybe i didn't fight hard enough to keep ya."

your stomach flipped once more. there was something about price that broke your resolve. even after all the pain and heartbreak, he was your husband. so when he kissed you, you didn't push him away.

he picked you up with relative ease, you wrapped your legs around his waist on instinct for fear that he'd drop you. he put you down with a bit of force onto the recliner he loved so.

your face felt heated as you were about to let your ex-husband fuck you.

"my girl on my chair." he chuckled. he remembered the nights where he'd have a beer and watch the football game while you were in between his legs like an obedient little puppy.

he watched you strip of your clothes, his larger hands helped you as you struggled to get out of your sweatpants. poor girl, always needs a mans help. price knew that your limp dicked new man couldn't help the way he could.

he loved the sight of your nude, all the curves and dips. the wetness of your cunt that gleamed in the light of the room. he got his cock out of his jeans and stroked it.

"remember this, love?" he smiled down at you, "i know you're pretty familiar with it." he chuckled, you spread your legs for him like a good wife. he reached over with his free hand and ruffled your hair.

"please, john." you moaned.

he chuckled, "impatient girl, bet ya touched yourself thinkin' of me and lied to your new man about it. bet ya told him that you were more than happy to suck his limp cock. nothin' like mine, eh?"

you looked at him, "there's nothing i could find or buy that felt like you."

he laughed, a full hearty laugh then met your gaze once more, "good." he said, "i'm glad i ruined that pussy of yours. because you're my wife and this is the only cock you'll need." then leaned over you and pushed his cock into you.

you choked out a gasp at the fullness you felt. you could feel it in your stomach. you gripped onto the armrests of the seat as you tried to regain the air in your lungs.

your pussy felt like heaven to him.

the sex was brutal, your sweaty back got stuck to the leather as he held your hips and battered your sweet cunt. he liked the idea that he ruined you for other men, that no one else could make you feel the way he did.

"do you see now." he said, "we're meant to be."

you looked away, "john, please." you felt the warmth pool in your gut. he took you by the jaw and pulled you into a kiss as he continued to move against you.

"you're my heart and soul, baby girl." his voice was low and erotic, "made just for me." he wanted to get it through to you that you were meant to be with him. arousal shot through him at the idea, the best way he could make sure that the two of you would be tied together.

it fueled him to push his cock as deep as it could go. his heavy balls hit against your ass as he fucked you without abandon. your sweet moans filled his head and he could feel his grey t-shirt grow hot with sweat.

he didn't worry, next round he'd get undressed fully. for now your sweet slick would ruin the denim of his jeans. he gazed at the expressions on your face as you closed your eyes.

"that's it."

"please, john. fuck, pull out." you whined.

"can't do that, love. you're keeping me in ya. you want this too. keep a little reminder on me in ya when you call that fuckin' prick of yours to break up."

"i'm not breaking up with him." you trembled in an attempt to gain some kind of control

he grabbed you by the hair and made you look at him. his chuckled lowly, "cute, love. but no, you're going to sit there with my cum in your cunt as you call that fuckin' prick to tell him to leave you alone. or better yet, you keep my cock nice and cozy inside ya when you call."

you swallowed and whimpered, "please, john."

he gave you a rough kiss on the cheek, his facial hair was scratchy against your soft, sweaty skin, "it's either that, or he won't be walkin' ever again. i'd suggest you take the more merciful option." he let go of your hair and quickened his pace.

you squeezed your eyes shut once more and it wasn't long before orgasm pulled you under. your slick cunt gripped his cock as the euphoria rushed through you.

price was pleased with himself as a pathetic noise left your lips. he gave a few more hearty thrusts before he finished. his noises were lower, darker and deeper than yours.

"good girl." he said, "lettin' your man do what needs to do to keep this together." he pushed strands of hair out of your face, his cock still hard in you, "see, you can listen. you can behave."

"john." you whined.

he patted your cheek lovingly, "shh, not now. let it happen." his voice was so calm and cool. the tonal whiplash made your head feel murky.

why did you leave him anyway?

he then grabbed you by the hair and brought you down onto the expensive carpet. he took off he shirt while you were on your shaky hands and knees. he knew your pulse was racing.

"don't worry baby girl." he said as he kissed your sweaty back, "just gotta go a few more times... until it takes."

-

while re-marriage wasn't common, being mrs. price was your rightful title. especially now that your little girl was born. price got you a nice house on a piece of land out in the country. you could raise your little family in peace.

"c'mon honey." you cooed at your toddler as she tried to stand on shaky legs, "go see daddy." there was such tenderness in your voice.

who would've thought a nice house and a cute little babe would've fixed ya right up!

price watched you try to teach your little girl how to walk on the grass. your hands held her smaller ones. price smiled at the rim of his teacup. for a moment he thought he lost you, but there's no worries now. you were his and next time he wouldn't let you leave. <3

[dirtyvulture]

The Maid

Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4663

Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesn’t approve of the marriage.

AN: I was reading a book series and got this idea. Enjoy!

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say, poking at the sad bowl of cereal before you.

“Why not?” Your wife frowns at you from across the kitchen.

“Because we’re doing fine! We don’t need any extra help,” you emphasize.

“You’re not the one stuck at home all day cleaning the house and cooking all the meals,” she snaps. Your eyes shift to the bowl of cereal you’d had to make yourself because she was too busy at her pilates class to cook you anything more substantial. 

“This house is huge compared to our old one,” your wife continues. “And if you’re not going to help me around here, I’m going to hire someone who will.” Annoyance burns in your chest because you run your own company full-time, and your wife inherited all her wealth from her parents and hadn’t worked a real job in her entire life. “Besides, Steve’s the one who recommended her and he said she’s been really helpful to his family.”

“You seem to spend a lot of time talking to Steve,” you note, although you feel guilty for calling out your neighbor across the street. You’d spoken to him a few times and he seemed like a decent guy, but you weren’t stupid enough to not notice how often your wife would find her way over to his lawn multiple times a week.

“You’re at work all day and don’t answer your phone half the time,” she says. “You don’t expect me to stay in this gigantic house all by myself doing chores, do you? I’m not a house servant, Y/N.”

“No, of course you’re not,” you apologize. You glance at the Omega watch that had been an engagement gift from your wife. “Hey, I have to get going to work now.” Dutifully, you bring your bowl over to the sink and stop to kiss your wife on the way there. “I’ll see you later, honey.”

“Remember, the pool guy is coming at noon so you need to be back before then,” she says. “I don’t want to be left by myself with him.”

“Okay, I’ll try.” You’re not sure why she’s so nervous around the pool technician; he was about 30 years older than the both of you and had been very sweet and professional when he came to give you a quote for the maintenance.  

“No, don’t try. Do it,” she insists.

You try to hold in your sigh. “Yes, dear.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha curses to herself as she drags her vacuum cleaner and basket of cleaning supplies up the sidewalk to your home. Your wife–Mrs. L/N, as she had asked Natasha to call her, while you had no problem being on a first name basis with her–had told Natasha she didn’t want her parking in front of your house, requiring her to park around the corner. Which wouldn’t have been a significant issue except it meant Natasha had to lug everything to your house every time she stopped by.

“Do you need any help, Nat?” Steve Rogers, the friendly neighbor whom she also worked for, waved at her from across the street.

“No, no, I’m fine!” she squeaks, not wanting to bother him. But Steve, ever the gentleman, runs over anyway and she has no choice but to turn over her supplies to him. 

“You know, you can always just park in front of my house,” he offers, bundling the items in his muscular arms.

“That’s okay,” Natasha says. “Mrs. L/N made it very clear that as much as she needs my help, she doesn’t want people to know I’m here.”

Steve doesn’t argue with her and walks her to your front door. “Well, if you ever need anything–”

“Natasha! You’re late!” The front door swings open and Natasha finds herself face-to-face with your wife. “Oh, hello, Steven.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and bats her eyelashes at him. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“I was just helping Natasha with her things,” Steve explains.

“Oh, don’t worry about her. She can handle herself. Right, Natasha?” She turns a judgmental eye on Natasha.

“I appreciate the help, Steve,” is all Natasha says.

“You’re welcome. See you both later!” He quickly jogs back to his home. 

Mrs. L/N ushers Natasha into the house. “I left a grocery list on the kitchen counter for you. If you can’t find something, please call me before you pick any substitutions,” she instructs briskly. “I have to go out to the HOA meeting, but Y/N should be home by noon before the pool man comes. Do not let him into the yard if Y/N or me are not home yet, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Natasha nods her head, fighting the urge not to roll her eyes at this lady.

“Good.” She leaves towards the garage and Natasha can hear the purr of her Mercedes starting up.

It was Natasha’s second week working for your family, and she hated nearly every second of it–mostly because of your spoiled, bratty wife. But the few times Natasha had met you, she thought you were as kind and charming as could be (and very nice to look at). She wondered how the two of you had gotten together in the first place and what you saw in your wife. She was one of the bossiest clients Natasha had ever had, and Natasha had seen her be not much nicer to you. Plus, she was definitely hitting on Steve, but Natasha knows he wouldn’t cheat on his wife with yours.

She dumps her supplies in the foyer, then goes into the kitchen to find the grocery list. It only takes a single glance to know that your wife is totally fucking with her–what the hell is a rambutan? Natasha sighs loudly, wishing there were someone around to hear her distress. As much as she wants to quit working for your family, she needs the money. And she was still so new to the business, she couldn’t afford to make any bad impressions. 

With another sigh, she balls the grocery list into her fist and heads back out.

***********************************************************************

Natasha returns from her grocery trip just in time to see you pull into the garage in your bright green luxury sports car she doesn’t even recognize the manufacturer’s logo of. You get out and wave to her and she smiles back, almost forgetting the awful phone call she had to make to your wife when she searched the entire store and still couldn’t locate the rambutans (she ended up having to make a separate trip to Whole Foods for them). 

“Hi, Natasha!” you say, running down the driveway to help her with the grocery bags.

“Oh, don’t worry about these,” Natasha says, trying to swat your hands away. “It’s my job to take them into the house–”

“No, let me help,” you insist, scooping up four bags in one hand in one go. “Oh! Rambutans. These are my favorite. Thank you for finding them.” 

Instantly, Natasha wants to take back all the curses she had put on the spiky red fruit. “It was nothing,” she lies, making a mental note to buy out the store’s entire stock for you the next time she goes.

With your help, it takes half the amount of time to get all the groceries in the house. You also insist on helping her put everything away, showing her the proper drawers in the fridge for the fruit and vegetables versus the meat, and where the cereals went in the pantry. Natasha is beyond grateful for you; she knows your wife would have happily stood there and watched her struggle, then loudly criticized her for not knowing better.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her hand inadvertently brushing yours when you pass her the last bag of apples. She withdraws from you almost too quickly, her skin hot where you touched her, but you don’t seem to notice, distracted by the ringing of the doorbell. 

“That must be Stan.” You dash off to meet the pool man. 

Natasha fills the dishwasher as much as she can and starts in, then goes to finish washing the oddly-shaped pots and pans that didn’t fit in the sink. The kitchen window looks out to your yard that is probably bigger than the footprint of her entire apartment complex. The pool has two different levels, but both are filled with a suspicious green water. You’re standing poolside talking to Stan, an older gentleman whom Natasha personally knew to be very kind from her few interactions with him when he conducted work on the neighborhood pool’s. 

She’s so busy looking at you, fantasizing about a life where this big house could be hers, with a doting partner who would take care of her and raise a family with her, she doesn’t hear the front door opening until she hears the unholy screech from your wife.

“Natasha, what are you doing?” she yells, hurrying over and snatching the soapy sponge right out of Natasha’s gloved hand.

“Um–the dishes? They didn’t all fit in the dishwasher–”

“You turned on the dishwasher?” Her eyes grow wide and her mouth drops like Natasha’s just confessed to a murder. “Didn’t I tell you we don’t run the dishwasher before seven p.m.?” Natasha is certain she’s never heard this instruction before in her life and watches as she rushes over to turn off the dishwasher mid-cycle and throw it open. “Also, you didn’t pack this correctly, you definitely could’ve fit those pots in here.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll rearrange it now,” Natasha says, trying not to get flustered. Surely your wife wouldn’t fire her over such a minor transgression, would she?

“Is Stan here yet?” she asks, but before Natasha can answer, she is interrupted by a shout and a splash. Both of them crane their necks to look out the window, where they can see Stan floating facedown in the pool. You’re kicking your shoes off and throwing your phone onto the lawn before you run up to the pool’s edge and dive in with a form that would rival an Olympic swimmer’s. Your wife screams and darts towards the back door, Natasha following right behind her.

“Y/N! What are you doing?”

“He fell in!” you answer, coughing out water as you loop your arms under the elderly man and kick back towards the stairs. “He just zoned out when he was talking to me and suddenly tipped over into the pool. I think he’s having a seizure.”

“I’ll call 911!” Natasha offers, not wanting to be as useless as your wife. She struggles to get her phone out of her pocket and punches in the number with shaky fingers.

Your wife hovers by the pool stairs, making no move to assist you as you struggle to drag the old man out, clearly weighed down by the water drenching both of your clothes. Stan is holding himself in a position so stiff it reminds Natasha of a mannequin. 

“Ugh, don’t get me wet, Y/N!” your wife complains as the brackish water sprays everywhere.

“I’m trying not to!” you snap, gently laying Stan on the grass.  

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” a dispatcher picks up.

“Hello? Yes, I’m at 2800 Sherwood Drive. There’s a man here who fell into the pool and we just got him out, but he’s having some kind of medical episode,” Natasha says, putting her phone on speaker. The dispatcher asks if he’s breathing and you confirm. 

“Can roll him to his side and stabilize his head?”

Without hesitation, you peel off your shirt and roll it into a soggy ball, gently tucking it under the man’s head like a makeshift pillow. Natasha tries not to stare at your nicely sculpted torso, highlighted further by the water droplets on your skin, but her face burns in shame when she sees your wife glaring at her ogling.

“Okay, his head is stabilized!” you call out.

“Perfect, emergency services are two minutes away.”

“Thank you.”

It’s a big scene at the house by the time the ambulance pulls up. Your wife eventually covers you up with a towel, but you’re insistent on waiting outside for Stan to be carefully loaded into the ambulance before you finally allow your wife to usher you back into the house, still dripping water everywhere.

“Thank you for the help today, Natasha,” you say, reaching out to give her shoulder a gentle pat as you walk by her towards the house. Natasha doesn’t even know how to respond but nods furiously and mumbles that “she didn’t help much.”

“You can go now, Natasha,” your wife says curtly, and Natasha doesn’t question her and practically flees the premise.

***********************************************************************

It’s been a few weeks since the pool incident and Natasha is barely able to hold onto her sanity with the never-ending list of ridiculous tasks from your wife. When she holds a fundraiser meeting for a charity Natasha is sure she made up on her own, she calls on Natasha as her personal servant, forcing her to serve a collection of the snobbiest women in the neighborhood. Maybe I should take up meditation, Natasha thinks to herself as she prepares a third pitcher of iced tea because the first two “did not have the right balance of sugar to tea,” according to your wife, despite that Natasha had put in exactly one-third cup of sugar as requested.

Natasha doesn’t see you much around the house anymore, and she wonders if your wife purposely scheduled her around your work hours, or told you to stay away from her. She wants to ask you if there were any updates about Stan’s condition (there was no way she was going to get that information from your wife). She missed hearing your voice and seeing your smile…wait.

She shakes her head–she shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. You’re her employer and you’re married (to a bitch). It would be entirely inappropriate and dangerous to pursue you, so she would just have to make do with ogling you from afar. Besides, a lot of her clients did not show her respect, likely due to the nature of her job, so just because you were courteous and respectful towards her, didn’t mean you felt a specific way about her.

“You know, Y/N used to be fat.” Natasha startles when your wife walks up behind her. She almost drops the picture frame she’d been dusting of the two of you on a beach, holding hands as you walked towards the sunset in the background.

“Excuse me?” Natasha asks. 

“Fat and poor,” Mrs. L/N adds, much to Natasha’s horror. 

“That’s an awful thing to say about your partner,” Natasha says.

She shrugs. “I don’t want anything to be sugarcoated for you. All of this–” She gestures around to the grandiose-ness of the house, and points to a more recent photo of you, where you’re carrying your wife in your arms, the bulge of your biceps and wideness of your shoulders stretching out your shirt. “–was not a thing when we first started dating. I was there when Y/N had nothing and was no one.”

“Okay.” Natasha wonders why she’s acting like she did you a favor, when you are clearly the catch in the relationship. But then it suddenly dawns on her the reason she’s saying this is because she knows Natasha might have a small crush on you.

“Y/N would never leave me, because I was there from the beginning,” Mrs. L/N says loftily.

“Of course,” Natasha says, fearing she has made a terrible mistake. “Y/N must be very lucky to have you.”

“You have no idea,” your wife smirks. “So let me be a reminder to keep things professional in my house. I’d hate for you to lose your job here. As far as I know, this is the only neighborhood that employs you, and your reputation is everything, isn’t it? One bad review could spoil the whole bunch, and you’d be off having to peddle your services elsewhere.” Icy fear pits at the bottom of Natasha’s stomach. “That is, if the police don’t pick you up first.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha whispers, even though she knows exactly what Mrs. L/N is talking about. She had been foolish to assume her past would never follow her, but how could your wife have found out? Clint had assured her that with a new name and a new location, she’d be untraceable. 

“Because they’d have to arrest you from stealing Y/N away from me,” Mrs. L/N laughs shrilly. Natasha chuckles nervously, although she was certain adultery was not a punishable offense in the state. “But I’m just joking. That would never happen, right?”

“Never,” Natasha promises, hoping her cover will stay hidden for now. 

“Good.”

***********************************************************************

“How was your day at work, honey?”

“Busy,” you grunt, moodily poking at the chicken pot pie Natasha had made before she went home. The food tastes good–it’s better than anything your wife has ever cooked, you think privately, but you don’t have much of an appetite. The end of the financial quarter was rapidly approaching and it had become extremely apparent to you that the profits of your company were not outweighing the expenses for the third quarter in a row. You were digging yourself a bigger and bigger grave, dipping into your personal investments to pay your way out of debt. It was the most stressful period of your life, with no relief in sight, and your wife wouldn’t understand the pressure.

“Sorry to hear that,” she says, although her words don’t come across as very genuine. “My day wasn’t so great either. I got into an argument earlier with Mrs. Harkness at the HOA meeting.” Your wife clicks her tongue. “Some of these women will go to war over their lawn decorations, I swear.”

A jab bubbles on the tip of your tongue; was she really trying to compare an HOA meeting to your very real, very stressful job running a business? But you stay quiet, shoveling another spoonful of pot pie into your mouth.

“Where’s Natasha?” you ask. Usually she stayed around for dinner (not that your wife would let her sit at the same table as you), but you hadn’t seen her in the house for a while.

“I ran out of time today, so I sent her out to grab some things for tomorrow,” she answers. When Natasha had first been hired, you had been under the impression that she was exclusively a housekeeper, helping with all the household chores your wife couldn’t complete. But you had heard about her running grocery trips and waiting on your wife and her friends during meetings, turning Natasha into more of a personal assistant than anything. You hoped she was okay with that; you knew how demanding your wife could be sometimes.

“Oh, okay.” You finish your helping of pot pie in silence, then go to place your plate in the dishwasher, before going into the bedroom to retire for the night. As you’re washing your face in the sink, you hear your wife pad up behind her.

“Sorry you’ve been really stressed lately,” she says, rubbing her hand up and down your arm. 

“It’s not your fault,” you respond, drying your face on a towel, going back into the bedroom to find your pajamas so you can take a shower.

“Y/N.” Your wife stops you as you’re searching through the dresser for your pajamas. When you look at her, she’s eyeing you with her bottom lip between her teeth. She struts towards you, slowly sinking to her knees and looking up at you. “Maybe I can do something to make you feel better?” 

With you being so busy with work and her busy with the new move, the two of you hardly had time for each other. Plus, your wife tended to be on the particular side and never seemed to be in the mood if you initiated. It was a little frustrating sometimes, but you found ways to cope and besides, it did make the times she was ready for you all the more enjoyable.

She pulls down your pants, palming at your boxers and causing you to groan. You unbutton your shirt as you feel your body start to heat up and let it slide off your shoulders. 

“Fuck, don’t tease me,” you grunt when she leans forward and nibbles on the exposed flesh of your thigh. 

“You need to savor the moment,” she says, although you can tell she’s just as impatient when she hooks her fingers into the waistband of your boxers and draws them down to the floor. Your heavy cock bobs out, slapping against your abs before your wife grabs onto it and brings it to her mouth. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, tipping your head back when you feel her lips wrap around your cock. You wrap your hand in her hair, pumping your hips forward to sink your length into the heat of her throat. She grips onto your thighs to steady herself, the faintest of choking noise escaping her. You grunt in satisfaction, thrusting a little harder until the tip of your cock bumps the back of her throat. She whines louder, but doesn’t pull away, and your knees are practically shaking at the sight of her deepthroating all of you.  

“You’re doing so well,” you praise and her cheeks flush red. “Are you gonna let me finish in your mouth?” you ask, and she nods in response, the movement causing a burst of pre-cum to leak out of your cock. You stroke a stray hair out of her face so you can look into her eyes when you finish. “That’s my good girl.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha lets herself into your home, juggling three heavy bags that she’s pretty sure are cutting off the circulation to her fingers. She passes by the kitchen, confused to see it empty; when she had left the two of you were just settling down to eat. She puts the bags by the foot of the table, recalling the time Mrs. L/N had screamed at her for putting “dirty outside bags” on the place where you ate. She wouldn’t make that same mistake again.

Checking her phone, Natasha sees that your wife had sent her a text less than five minutes ago.

Natasha sighs. It had already been a long day, but she wasn’t given an ounce of leeway. She knows better than to walk away from an unfinished task (especially around your wife), so she trudges up the stairs and turns into the guest room. Hopefully her presence can go unnoticed, and your wife will magically find the folded clothes long after Natasha is gone. 

There are a total of three shirts and a pair of jeans left to fold. Natasha knows it would be too much to ask your wife to do on her own. She grits her teeth and folds the clothes, taking the better part of a minute, then looks around and realizes she doesn’t remember where she put the laundry basket. 

Maybe she had already brought it to the master bedroom, but she knew she couldn’t just leave it on the guest bed, or your wife would probably fire her. Natasha gathers up the clothes and walks down the hall to the master bedroom, but freezes in her tracks when she hears noises coming out of the bedroom.

Moaning noises, specifically.

Natasha can’t stop herself as she moves closer to the door, positioning herself to peer through the crack in between the door and the wall. She sees your wife on her knees, her head bobbing against your waist as you stand there, half-naked, moaning and thrusting your hips forward.

Natasha feels like she can’t breathe, totally shocked and embarrassed to have caught the two of you in a moment. She has a strange sense that your wife had set her up like this on purpose, but the thought quickly dissipates as she finds herself moving closer to the door.

“That’s my good girl.”

Natasha’s stomach flips when she hears you say this, even though it isn’t directed to her. But maybe one day it could be. 

She’s practically pressed up against the door, the fear of being caught burning away in her eagerness to keep watching you. The way the muscles in your stomach and thighs flex as your hips roll in a sinful rhythm. Natasha is almost ashamed at how fast she feels the arousal building in her own stomach.

You grunt louder and slow down as you seem to near release. Natasha can’t help but wonder what you must taste like and if she could even fit you down her throat. Your wife seems to be struggling with your size, but Natasha would do everything in her power to make you happy and not let any drop go to waste.

Without warning, your wife removes you from her mouth. Both you and Natasha gasp–you probably in frustration, and Natasha because she’s shocked at how big you are. Your cock is shiny with saliva and pre-cum and is so hard it looks like it’s about to burst.

“I didn’t finish,” you whine as your wife stands up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She puts her hand on your chest and pushes you back until you stumble onto the bed.

“I know. But I don’t want you to finish in my mouth, I want you to finish inside me.”

“Oh.” Your wife takes off her pants and climbs onto you.

Natasha knows how wrong it is for her to stand there and continue watching. She should’ve left a long time ago. But somehow, she knows your wife set her up to see this, and instead of running away in shame, Natasha is totally absorbed and her obsession with you only skyrockets. 

The headboard creaks against the wall as your wife rides you, both of you moaning in unison. Natasha’s eyes are stuck on you, trying to memorize your body’s reactions and wondering if she’d ever be the cause of them one day. You tilt your head back into the pillows, your back arching off the mattress, your hands wrapped around your wife’s waist as you thrust up into her. 

“I’m ready. I’m gonna cum,” you announce breathlessly.

Natasha hopes you’ll say those words to her one day. But she turns away as you finish, scolding herself for her unprofessional and frankly creepy behavior. She drops the folded clothes to the floor, knowing your wife will eventually find them and know of their origin. Maybe she’ll get fired for this; if anything, it’d be for the better. She doesn’t trust herself to be around you anymore–not that she’d ever be so bold as to make a move and disrespect your marriage, but she’d never be able to look at you the same way again.

She quickly pads down the stairs and leaves the house, the emptiness in her heart and core almost reaching a painful point.

***********************************************************************

You jerk your hips up a final time as you cum, dropping back onto the bed exhausted and spent. 

“Hmm, that was fun,” your wife pants against your neck, and you wrap your arm around her tightly, pulling her closer to your body. 

“We can shower together?” you suggest, digging your fingers teasingly into her naked hips. 

“Sure. Give me a minute.” She lays her head on your chest.

Despite your differences, you were truly happy to have this woman by your side through it all. She had been your longest supporter and that had meant everything to you when no one else believed in you.

You kiss her forehead softly. “I love you, Wanda.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Actually screaming and crying. Nat please come save us 😭

To be continued?

@holiday-house-of-m I finally kept my promise to you after 84 years.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[angelyuji]

SOME MOREEE YANDERE PINES TWINS THOUGHTS

stan pines thoughts and professor ford pines??? HOLD ON LET ME COOK

18+!!!!

tw // yandere themes, gaslighting, manipulation, power imbalance, pervy uncle lowkey, also lowkey bimboification, noncon (not explicit)

professor ford pines!!!!!!!! known to be the eccentric professor who goes on tangents about trans-dimensional physics and other science junk, but also superrr lenient grader like no possible way anyone could fail his class. you’re def teacher’s pet type and he’s definitely aiming to make you a TA. always getting you involved in weird experiments, but you’re always down cuz ur there to learn! ford invites you to his house, you guys hang out outside of class and research, you’ve met his brother!! like u knew it was getting weird, but at the same time…. you need a good rec letter. so one day you guys are in his office at his home, grading papers…

“(y/n).” ford calls your name, sternly. the lights were dim and quiet classical music played in the office. you hum and turn to him. before you know it, his chapped lips press against yours. you push him away, scared and surprised.

“professor, what the hell are you doing?” you try back away, but ford grabs your hand.

“i think you are one of the most brilliant minds i know and i want to be with you, (y/n).” ford stands, pulling you into a hug. you push back, stumbling away from him.

“no, i-i never thought that! i thought we were just friends!”

“but, i invited you to my home.” ford’s face saddens, “you met my family…”

“i never… i never realized…” you felt embarrassed for the old professor. you take a step back. you can’t see his face, but you watch his fists clench.

“i suppose that means you’re okay with losing your job, as well as any opportunities in this field.” his voice was low, words drenched in anger.

“no…. no, no, no, professor you can’t do this to me.” your heart feels like it was being ripped out of your chest.

“no, i can’t, but who will you tell? who will believe you? i am a respected scientist in our field, (y/n). think once more on your decision.” ford looks at you, a smug smirk laying on his face. you don’t respond, knowing that you had no other choice. you step back to him and he pulls you into a soft, loving kiss. his 5 o’clock shadow scratches your face. “now, please (y/n), call me ford.”

stan pines who had known your dad when he lived in texas and saw him again in gravity falls. stan pines who gets invited over to meet his friend’s family for dinner and sees you. a cute, little thing in their early 20s. stan’s instantlyyy enamored. you’re so cute and respectful, explaining how you’re living at home while you work and save money for a house, blushing when stan compliments you, serving him food first. you were acting like a perfect homemaker and stan was instantly obsessed. your dad’s gonna tell stan before he leaves that you’re all moving somewhere cheaper:

“yeah, pines, we’re moving some time soon. you know how it is with retirement and the market going down.” your dad sighs, wearily. stan nods, trying to listen to your voice in the house. “can’t move till (y/n) finds a job though. its gonna be tough on them especially with how hard it is to find jobs these days.” stan perks up at his words.

“y’know, (y/n) don’t have to quit…” your dad looks at the older man in confusion. “my grandkids have gone back to california, shermie’s grandkids technically, so my attic is open for them to stay in. they can stay at their job and you guys can move.” stan offers, fighting a giddy smile.

your dad clasps stan’s hands, “stan pines, you are the kindest man i know.”

stan for sure acts like a feeble old man around you to get you to take care of him. like cooking dinner, doing laundry, and more. he conditions you into acting like his stay at home partner. he starts making advances, subtle at first, to see what you would tolerate. soon he’s dictating what you wear and bending you over on the kitchen counter to make sure you stay full :) (dont get me started on somnophilia cuz i have thoughts on those but idk if u guys are ready for the things im gonna say)

here are those thoughts i was talking abt… :))))