#no longer struggling with my finger on a phone ^__^ !!

[fexarii]

Undertale's 8th anniversary arrived!!! Happy bday to the game that kickstarted my art career and made me find so many friends x))

[yvesssssssss]

Nerdmin! who knows you have a voice kink, so he leans close and whispers filth in your ear like he’s reading an academic paper. Calm, articulate, but utterly depraved. “You’re dripping down my wrist, sweetheart. That’s not very ladylike, is it?”

Nerdmin! who has a size kink and uses it against you—not with his body, but your reactions. “It’s too much?” he’ll say sweetly as he watches your cunt struggle to take his fingers. “Funny. You were begging for it just a minute ago.”

Nerdmin! who gets obsessed with overstimulation. He’ll make you come once just to “establish a baseline”—then keeps going with his tongue, fingers, vibrator, whatever he has—until you’re begging through tears. “Let me see how many times I can break you.”

Nerdmin! who switches between praise and degradation so fast it makes your head spin. “That’s my perfect girl. So smart, so obedient…” and then he’s smirking, voice low: “You’re such a fucking mess. Ruined. Sloppy. Disgusting, and still begging for more.”

Nerdmin! who uses mirror play like a study aid. He’ll fuck you from behind while forcing you to look, pushing your head forward by the jaw. “Watch yourself. That’s what I see every time I think about you. Ruined and cockdumb.”

Nerdmin! who uses breath play like he’s testing your limits—his hand wrapping lightly around your throat, not enough to panic, just enough to make your vision buzz. “You okay?” he’ll whisper, and then smirk when you nod. “Then take more.”

Nerdmin! who likes to edge you while he talks softly in your ear, one hand between your legs, the other holding a stopwatch. “You lasted one minute longer than yesterday. Good girl. Let’s see if we can beat that.”

Nerdmin! who has a corruption kink so bad it shows in his eyes. He loves how innocent you look under him—until he’s got you drooling, gagging, whispering filthy things he taught you. “See what I’ve turned you into?” he purrs. “Perfect little toy.”

Nerdmin! who makes you ride his tongue until your thighs are shaking and you can’t even sit up anymore. His arms around your waist, tongue piercing rolling nonstop against your clit while he moans under you like it’s his orgasm.

Nerdmin! who records your moans on his phone when he eats you out, labeled “Study Notes – Vol. 1,” so he can jerk off to them later when you’re not around. “You sounded so pretty, baby,” he tells you the next day. “I came twice.”

I'm so obsessed with nerdmin💔

[mandoalorian]

ride to you [bucky barnes x f!reader]

synopsis: seperated by miles, bucky barnes is out on a mission when he gets a late-night text message from you, and suddenly, he just can't do distance anymore.

rating/warnings: 18+ explicit content, mdni, unprotected p in v, fem receiving oral, fingering, breast play, sexting, mutual masturbation over video call, praise kink, bucky is all rough and desperate, and he struggles a bit with tech lol, …dog tags, motorcycle this smut has it all.

w/c: 3,885

masterlist | submit a request

The glow of your phone screen is the only light in your bedroom, casting soft shadows across the empty sheets. It’s 11:47 PM, and your desire for Bucky has you restless, your body aching with the need for him. He’s been gone three weeks, on some mission with Yelena and John keeping him a whole state away, and the distance is a cruel tease. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, then type out a message, heart already picking up speed.

You: Can’t sleep, soldier. Bed feels too damn big without you.

His reply pings almost instantly, like he’s been staring at his phone, waiting.

Bucky: Doll, you’re killing me already. Missing you so bad, I can’t think straight.

You smile, warmth curling in your chest. Bucky’s always been a little slow with tech—his texts are short, sometimes autocorrect mangles them—but the effort he puts in makes it sweeter. You can picture him, brow furrowed, big fingers fumbling on the tiny keyboard in some nondescript motel room.

You: What’s keeping you up, huh? Thinking about me?

Bucky: Every damn second. You in that little tank top you wear to bed? Or… less?

Your breath catches, a flush creeping up your neck. He’s bold tonight, and you love it.

You: Just a tank top. Barely. Wish you were here to see it.

There’s a longer pause, and you can almost hear the low groan he’d make.

Bucky: Sweetheart, you’re gonna make me break this phone. Tell me what you’d do if I was there.

Heat pools low in your belly, and you shift on the bed, thighs pressing together. You type slowly, savouring the anticipation.

You: I’d climb into your lap, kiss that spot on your jaw that makes you growl. Slide my hands under your shirt, feel those muscles… you’d be begging me to keep going.

His reply takes a minute, and when it comes, it’s a little messy, like he’s typing too fast.

Bucky: Fuck, doll. I’d pin you to that bed before you could tease me. Kiss you till you’re dizzy, hands all over you. That tank top wouldn’t last five seconds.

You bite your lip, pulse racing. The image of Bucky—broad shoulders, dog tags dangling, blue eyes blazing—has you squirming.

You: Oh, you think you’d have control? I’d have you groaning my name first, Barnes. Bet I could make you lose it just by grinding against you.

Bucky: You’d feel how hard you’re makin’ me already. I’d rip those panties off, make you scream for me.

Your fingers tremble as you type, the words coming faster now, dirtier.

You: I’d let you, Buck. Want your hands on me, your mouth… want you to fuck me till I can’t walk.

His next text is a single word, raw and desperate.

Bucky: Fuck.

Then, a follow-up.

Bucky: Call me. Now. Need to see you.

You hesitate, heart pounding. A call means FaceTime, and the thought of seeing him, hearing him, sends a fresh wave of heat through you.

You: FaceTime? You sure you know how to work that, old man?

Bucky: Shut up, doll. I figured out the damn button. Answer when I call, or I’m ridin’ to you tonight.

The threat—or promise—makes you grin, your body buzzing with anticipation. You adjust your tank top, letting one strap slip off your shoulder, and wait for the call.

Your phone buzzes with an incoming FaceTime call, and your heart leaps into your throat. You swipe to answer, and there’s Bucky, filling the screen, looking like sin itself. He’s shirtless, sprawled on a motel bed, the dim light catching the glint of his dog tags and the sheen of sweat on his chest. His hair’s a mess, falling into his eyes, and those blue eyes are dark, hungry, fixed on you. 

But there’s a flicker of frustration on his face as he fumbles with the phone, tilting it at an awkward angle.

“Damn it,” he mutters, voice gravelly. “This thing keeps—hold on, doll, I think I got it.” He props the phone against something, probably a pillow, and the view steadies, giving you a full shot of his broad shoulders and the taut muscles of his stomach. He squints at the screen, like he’s not sure it’s working. “You seein’ me okay? Or did I break this already?”

You laugh, the sound breathy with nerves and desire. “I see you, Buck. Looking like a damn dream.” You shift on your bed, letting the silky camisole slip further down your shoulder, the thin fabric barely covering you. You angle the phone to give him a teasing view of your collarbone, the curve of your chest. “Like what you see?”

His groan is instant, low and guttural. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re gonna kill me.” He shifts, and you catch the way his hand moves off-screen, adjusting himself. “That top’s barely holdin’ on. Show me more.”

Heat floods your body, and you oblige, sliding the camisole down to reveal the tops of your breasts, your fingers lingering there. “Better?” you tease, voice husky.

Bucky’s jaw tightens, his metal hand flexing on the bed. “You’re playin’ dirty, doll. Keep goin’. Wanna see all of you.” He’s trying to sound commanding, but there’s a plea in his tone, raw and desperate.

You bite your lip, emboldened by his reaction. “Only if you give me something too, soldier.” You nod toward his lap, where his hand is resting just out of frame. “Show me what those texts were doing to you.”

He huffs a laugh, half-embarrassed, half-turned on. “Demanding much? Alright.” He adjusts, sliding his hand into his sweatpants, and you catch a glimpse of the bulge there before he eases them down just enough. He’s hard, and the sight of him touching himself, slow and deliberate, sends a jolt of heat straight to your core. “Your turn, sweetheart,” he rasps. “Touch yourself for me.”

Your breath hitches, and you don’t hesitate. You slip a hand under the hem of your camisole, pushing it up to expose your stomach, then lower, dipping into your panties. The first brush of your fingers against yourself makes you gasp, and Bucky’s eyes darken, his own hand moving faster.

“Fuck, doll, look at you,” he groans, voice thick. “So damn pretty. Keep goin’. Imagine it’s me touchin’ you.”

You do, your fingers circling as you picture his hands—rough, warm, and relentless. “Bucky,” you whimper, your hips shifting on the bed. “Wish it was you. Want your fingers, your mouth…”

He curses under his breath, his strokes growing rougher. “God, I’d devour you right now. Lick every inch of you till you’re screamin’ my name. Tell me how it feels, baby.”

“It’s so good,” you moan, your free hand gripping the sheets. “But not enough. Need you here, Buck. Need you inside me.” The words spill out, unfiltered, and you see the effect they have—his head tips back, a low growl rumbling from his chest.

“Keep talkin’ like that, and I’m gonna lose it,” he warns, but his hand doesn’t stop, and neither does yours. You’re both chasing the same high, the phone screen a cruel barrier between you. “Tell me what you’d do if I was there. Right now.”

You’re panting now, the pleasure building fast. “I’d climb on top of you,” you say, voice shaky. “Ride you so hard you’d forget your own name. Kiss you till you can’t breathe.”

“Fuck, yes,” he growls, his eyes locked on you, intense and wild. “I’d flip you over, fuck you into the mattress. Make you come so many times you’d beg me to stop.”

The filthy promises push you closer to the edge, your fingers moving faster, chasing the release. 

“Bucky, I’m—” you gasp, unable to finish the sentence as the pleasure crests.

“Me too, doll,” he grits out, his voice breaking. “Come for me. Let me see you.”

It hits you like a wave, your body arching as you cry out his name, trembling under your own touch. Bucky follows, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as he spills over his hand, his chest heaving. For a moment, you’re both silent, just breathing, the intimacy of the moment hanging heavy between you.

Then he laughs, rough and a little sheepish. “Well, damn. Never thought this phone thing could be that good.” He grabs a tissue, cleaning up, and you giggle, pulling your camisole back into place.

“Still hate technology?” you tease, your voice soft, sated.

He smirks, but his eyes are serious. “Not when it’s you on the other end. But this ain’t enough, sweetheart.” He leans closer to the screen, voice dropping. “I’m comin’ to you. Tonight.”

You blink, still hazy from the high. “Buck, you’re in—wherever you are. You can’t just—”

“Watch me,” he says, and you see him grab his leather jacket, tossing it over his shoulder. “Got my bike. I’m ridin’ to you. Be there by dawn.”

Your jaw drops, but the determination in his eyes tells you he’s not kidding. “You’re insane,” you whisper, but your heart’s racing again, thrilled.

“Insane for you,” he shoots back, already moving. “Get some rest, doll. You’re gonna need it when I get there.”

The call ends, leaving you staring at the blank screen, your body buzzing with anticipation and disbelief.

Bucky’s breath is still uneven as he ends the FaceTime call, the image of you—hot, panting, whispering his name—burned into his mind. His body’s buzzing, sated but nowhere near satisfied. 

The phone’s screen goes dark, but it doesn’t matter; he can still see you, feel the ghost of your voice in his ear, your words pulling him apart. “Need you inside me.” Fuck. He’s done waiting.

He’s on his feet in seconds, the motel room’s stale air doing nothing to cool the heat coursing through him. His leather jacket is slung over his shoulder, but he shrugs it on, the familiar weight grounding him. His duffel’s already packed—a habit from decades of moving fast, never settling. He grabs it, slings it across his chest, and heads for the door. The keys to his Harley jingle in his pocket, a promise of freedom, of you.

Outside, the night’s crisp, the motel’s neon sign buzzing faintly. His bike’s parked under a flickering streetlight, all black chrome and raw power, just like him. He swings a leg over, the leather seat creaking under his weight, and kicks the engine to life. The roar tears through the silence, vibrating in his chest, matching the thrum of his pulse. He’s in Pennsylvania, but you’re in New York, a good five-hour ride if he pushes it. He’s pushing it.

The highway stretches out, a dark ribbon under a sky smeared with stars. Bucky leans into the wind, the speedometer climbing as the bike eats up the miles. His mind’s a tangle of you—your teasing texts, the way you looked on that call, your body arching as you came for him. He grips the handlebars tighter, the metal of his left hand glinting in the moonlight. He’s not built for distance, not when it comes to you. Every mile feels like a taunt, every second a reminder of how bad he needs to touch you, taste you, feel you under him.

He replays the call in his head, your voice a siren song. “Ride you so hard you’d forget your own name.” His jaw clenches, a low growl escaping his throat, lost in the wind. He’s half-hard again just thinking about it, the memory of your fingers slipping into your panties, the soft moans you made. He shifts on the seat, trying to focus on the road, but it’s no use. You’re in his blood, and no amount of miles or cold air can shake you out.

A gas station looms ahead, the only light for miles. He pulls in, the bike’s rumble dropping to a low purr as he cuts the engine. His boots hit the gravel, and he stretches, rolling his shoulders. The attendant, a kid barely out of his teens, eyes the metal arm warily but says nothing as Bucky fills the tank. He checks his phone—2:37 AM. A text from you, sent just after the call.

You: You’re really coming? Be safe, soldier. I’ll be waiting…

He smirks, typing back with one hand, still clumsy with the touchscreen. Bucky: Damn right I’m comin’. Don’t sleep too deep, doll. Gonna need you awake.

He sends it, pockets the phone, and swings back onto the bike. The kid mutters something about “crazy night riders,” but Bucky’s already gone, the Harley roaring back to life. The road’s emptier now, just him and the hum of the engine, the world blurring past. He thinks about what’s waiting—your apartment, your bed, you in that flimsy camisole or maybe nothing at all. His foot presses harder on the throttle, the needle pushing past 90.

Dawn’s starting to bleed into the horizon when he hits the outskirts of New York, the city’s glow a faint promise. His body aches from the ride, but it’s nothing compared to the ache for you. He weaves through early traffic, the bike’s growl turning heads, but he doesn’t care. Your address is burned into his brain, every turn taking him closer. The thought of you, warm and waiting, maybe still flushed from earlier, has his heart pounding harder than the engine.

He pulls up to your building as the sky turns pink, the Harley’s rumble echoing off the brick. He cuts the engine, the silence sudden and heavy. His boots hit the pavement, and he takes a moment, catching his breath, running a hand through his wind-messed hair. The duffel slung over his shoulder, but all he can think about is you—steps away, behind that door, real and his.

He’s here. And he’s not leaving until you’re screaming his name.

The stairwell to your apartment is a blur as Bucky bounds up, boots thudding on the creaking wood, his pulse a war drum in his ears. The five-hour ride on his Harley—wind tearing at him, miles bleeding into the night—has only sharpened his need. Your door looms at the end of the hall, and he’s there in seconds, fist hovering for a soft knock. It’s 6:13 AM; he won’t wake your neighbours. The rap is quiet but urgent, his metal hand twitching, impatient.

The door flies open, and you’re a vision that stops his heart. That silky camisole clings to you, one strap slipped off your shoulder, barely containing the curves he’s been dreaming of. Your hair’s tousled, eyes wide with shock and want, lips parted like you’re about to speak. But Bucky doesn’t give you the chance. His duffel hits the floor, and he’s on you, hands cradling your face as he crashes his mouth to yours. The kiss is raw, all-consuming, teeth clashing, tongues tangling, weeks of pent-up longing spilling out. He tastes you—mint toothpaste and something sweeter, something you—and it’s better than any fantasy.

“Bucky,” you gasp when he pulls back for air, your fingers knotting in his hair, tugging just hard enough to make him growl. He kicks the door shut, the slam echoing, and lifts you like you weigh nothing. Your legs wrap around his waist, thighs tight against his hips, and he groans as your heat presses through his jeans. The leather jacket’s cool against your bare arms, but his body’s a furnace, searing where he holds you.

“Told you I’d come, doll,” he rasps, voice rough from the road and desire.

He carries you to the bedroom, lips trailing fire down your jaw, nipping the pulse point on your neck that makes you shudder. Your nails rake his shoulders, shoving at his jacket, and he shrugs it off mid-stride, dog tags jangling as it hits the floor. You’re clawing at his shirt now, and he yanks it over his head, tossing it aside, leaving him in just those damn tags and jeans slung low on his hips.

He sets you on the bed, stepping back to drink you in. The camisole’s riding up, exposing the soft skin of your stomach, your thighs parted just enough to make his mouth water. Your eyes are dark, pupils blown, and the way you’re looking at him—like he’s everything—has his chest tight.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he says, voice thick with praise, the words wrapping around you like a caress. He crawls over you, caging you with his body, his flesh hand snagging both your wrists and pinning them above your head. The restraint sends a spark through you, and he feels it, sees it in the way you arch. “Gonna make you scream for me, sweetheart. You’re mine.”

The possessiveness laces his tone, and you shiver, lips curving into a defiant smirk. “Prove it, soldier.”

That’s all he needs. His mouth claims yours again, deep and filthy, tongue stroking in a way that promises what’s coming. His metal hand slides under your camisole, cold against your fevered skin, and he doesn’t bother with finesse—just rips the fabric down the middle, the tear loud in the quiet room. You gasp, but his lips are there, soothing, kissing the sting away as the scraps fall. “I’ll buy you another one,” he murmurs, but you’re too far gone to care, your hands straining against his grip, wanting to touch him.

His mouth moves lower, hot and deliberate, sucking at the swell of your breast, teeth grazing your nipple until you whine. He laves it with his tongue, then moves to the other, leaving marks you’ll feel tomorrow. “So fuckin’ responsive,” he growls, voice vibrating against your skin. He trails kisses down your stomach, each one slower, teasing, until he’s settled between your thighs. His hands—flesh and metal—grip your hips, spreading you open, and he just stares, eyes black with hunger. “Look at you, doll. So wet for me. Been like this since our call, haven’t you?”

You nod, breathless, and he chuckles, dark and dirty. “Good girl.” The praise hits like a drug, and then his mouth’s on you, no warning, just a slow, devastating lick through your folds. You cry out, hips bucking, but his metal arm pins you down, unrelenting. He groans, the sound rumbling through you, and it’s like he’s starving, tongue circling your clit, sucking hard, then dipping lower to taste you deeper. “Sweetest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever had,” he says, voice muffled, and you’re already trembling, the pleasure sharp and overwhelming.

His flesh hand joins in, fingers teasing your entrance, circling until you’re begging, voice broken. 

“Bucky, please, need you—” He doesn’t make you wait, sliding two fingers inside, thick and curling just right, hitting that spot that makes your vision white out.

You moan, loud and shameless, as he pumps them slow, then faster, his tongue never stopping, sucking your clit like it’s his mission to ruin you. “That’s it, doll,” he says, lifting his head just enough to watch you writhe. “Love those sounds. Keep makin’ ‘em for me.”

You’re close, too close, the coil tightening with every thrust of his fingers, every flick of his tongue. He senses it, doubles down, sucking hard as his fingers twist, and you’re gone, screaming his name as you come, body arching off the bed. He doesn’t stop, working you through it, licking every shudder until you’re gasping, oversensitive, tugging at his hair to pull him up.

He crawls over you, kissing you deep, and you taste yourself on his tongue, the intimacy making you dizzy. “So damn beautiful when you come,” he whispers, and the praise sinks into you, warm and perfect. His jeans are still on, tented painfully, and you reach for him, fingers clumsy with need as you pop the button, drag the zipper down. He helps, kicking them off with his boxers, and you pause, just looking—his cock’s thick, hard, leaking at the tip, and the sight makes your mouth water.

“Need you, Bucky,” you say, voice raw, reaching for him. “Now.”

He smirks, but his eyes are soft, reverent. “Gonna give you everything, sweetheart.” He settles between your thighs, teasing your entrance with his tip, dragging it through your slick until you’re whining. “You want me to fuck you, doll? Want me to make you mine?”

“Yes,” you breathe, legs wrapping around him, pulling him closer. “Please, Bucky.”

He doesn’t tease anymore. He pushes in, slow and relentless, stretching you inch by inch, and you both groan, the feeling overwhelming. He’s big, filling you completely, and he stills, letting you adjust, his forehead pressed to yours. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grits out, voice strained, his dog tags dangling, brushing your chest. “Feel so damn perfect, doll. Like you were made for me.”

You clench around him, and he curses, low and filthy. “Keep doin’ that, and I won’t last,” he warns, but you just smirk, rolling your hips to take him deeper. He growls, pinning your wrists again, the restraint making you burn. “Oh, you’re gonna pay for that, sweetheart.”

He starts moving, and it’s everything—deep, powerful thrusts, his hips snapping against yours, the bed creaking under the force. You meet him thrust for thrust, arching up, the friction perfect, his cock hitting that spot inside you with every stroke. “Fuck, Bucky,” you moan, and he leans down, sucking a bruise into your neck, marking you as his.

“Mine,” he growls, each word punctuated by a thrust, his metal hand gripping your hip, anchoring you. “Say it, doll. Tell me you’re mine.”

“Yours,” you gasp, the word a prayer, and he rewards you, angling his hips to hit even deeper, the pleasure blinding. His pace quickens, relentless, and you’re both panting, sweat-slick and desperate. 

“Love how you feel,” he groans, voice rough. “So wet, so tight, takin’ me so fuckin’ good.”

The dirty talk pushes you higher, and you claw at his back, nails digging in, making him hiss. 

“Harder,” you beg, and he delivers, fucking you into the mattress, the headboard rattling. His flesh hand releases your wrists, sliding between you to rub tight circles on your clit, and you cry out, the added sensation too much. “Bucky, I’m gonna—”

“Come for me,” he commands, possessive and fierce. “Wanna feel you, doll. Let go.”

It hits like a freight train, your body convulsing, clenching around him as you scream his name, pleasure tearing through you. He groans, thrusts growing erratic, chasing his own release. “Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight,” he pants, and then he’s coming, spilling inside you, hot and deep, his hips stuttering as he buries himself to the hilt.

You’re both trembling, locked together, and he doesn’t pull out, staying close, kissing you slow and deep, tongues lazy now, sated. His weight is grounding, his tags cool against your chest, and you feel every shudder of his breath. “No more distance,” he murmurs, voice a vow, his lips brushing yours. “I’m not leavin’ you again, sweetheart.”

You smile, fingers tracing his jaw, his stubble rough under your touch. “Better not, soldier. I’m keeping you forever.”

He chuckles, soft and warm, rolling to his side and pulling you with him, still inside you, like he can’t bear to break the connection. “Forever sounds good, doll.”

────✪────

Sebastian Stan taglist: @notreallythatlost @houseofaegon @bunnyfella @sunday-bug @wintrsoldrluvr @maryevm @mcira @monsteraddicts-world

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! <3

[onlymingyus]

Let Me Hear You Say...

pairing; kim mingyu x f reader

genre; smut (minor dni), heavy angst, fluff, toxic, ranch au, brothers best friend au

summary; Your brother calls you home and you quickly remember why you left the ranch in the first place. At least the scenery got a lot more handsome with the ranch foreman, Kim Mingyu at his side.

content warnings; death of a family member, family trauma, older brother!seungcheol, lawyer!reader, ranch hand/foreman!mingyu, ranch hands – jun/soonyoung/chan, arguing, crying, toxic family relationship, eating/drinking, rich reader & seungcheol, physical fight, blood, bruises. i know nothing about how an estate actually works and that shows but i did my best. (Patreon has it’s own warnings)

smut warnings; unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, oral (f receiving), mingyu is able to carry the reader (strength kink), pet names.

w/c; 28.8k and some change (including Patreon bonus)

a/n; thank you to my june for proofreading. i love you sugar butt. i hope you guys like this one. its very much self serving. i mean come on… it’s mingyu and its ranch au (im as southern as southern can be). thank you for reading my loves!

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“She’s here for how long?” 

Lifting two of the suitcases, Mingyu grunts at the weight of the one in his left hand before tilting his head in disbelief as Seungcheol takes out two more suitcases from the back of his SUV. 

“Uh… I don’t know. A couple weeks? Maybe longer. However long it takes to work through the paperwork and shit.” 

Mingyu had never met you, but he had heard plenty of stories about the infamous baby Choi. While Seungcheol had stayed home and learned the ropes from your father—eventually taking on the ranch—you had other plans. 

Leaving Montana in your rearview mirror, you headed for New York, went to school, got your law degree, and were on your way to making partner at one of the most elite practices in the city. Everything got put on hold with a single phone call from your brother asking you to come home, sorrow in his voice as he struggled through having to tell you the news both of you had been dreading for a while—your father had passed away. That had been a few months ago. You both had survived the funeral but now the hard stuff was keeping you both from moving on so you found yourself back.

“Put your back into it, Gyu. They can’t be that heavy. You throw hay daily, and now you’re whining over a suitcase?” 

Mocking Seungcheol’s teasing, Mingyu follows behind him with a grunt as he lifts your bags, making his way into the large main house where you already were. "Yeah, well, hay weighs less than this shi—” Feeling his words get caught in his throat as he moves into the living room, meeting your eyes for the first time, Mingyu swallows hard and watches as Seungcheol puts what he was carrying down before moving to pull you into a tight hug. God, you were pretty. Mingyu didn’t know what he had been expecting. He had seen pictures of you, of course, but that was different than being in the same damn room as you. 

“Hey, squirt. How was the flight?” 

As much as you weren’t looking forward to being home, the comfort of a tight hug from your big brother was just what the doctor had ordered. Burying your face against his jacket, you sigh softly before taking in a breath, letting the warmth of his embrace wash over you before you finally take a step back and shrug, meeting Seungcheol’s eyes and feeling another set lingering on you. “Exhausting. Not even business class could make a five-hour flight bearable.” Finally looking past your brother, when you hear a set of heavier bags hitting the hardwood floor, you lift your brow, meeting the eyes of the other man curiously. “That’s Louis Vuitton.” 

Unsure if you are speaking directly to him, Mingyu glances behind him before lifting his hand to touch his chest and shaking his head. “Nah, Kim Mingyu.” 

Scoffing under your breath, you hear your brother chuckle before he shakes his head and gestures back to the man who had just introduced himself. 

“As the idiot said, he’s Kim Mingyu. He’s smarter than he seems, I promise. He just isn’t used to all your fancy shit, Y/N.” 

Forcing yourself to not roll your eyes, you move past your brother and towards Mingyu, who visibly takes a deep breath watching you lean down to your luggage. “Clearly. It rolls, Kim Mingyu, and Louis Vuitton is the name of the brand that made this luggage.” Pushing on the button to extend the handle, you let out a soft sigh on your breath as you stand back to your full height in front of Mingyu, meeting his eyes once again. “Thanks for bringing it in. Are you, like, my brother’s bestie or something?” 

You didn’t fit in at all. If it wasn’t for some family resemblance, Mingyu wouldn’t even know that you and Seungcheol were siblings. For one, you were gorgeous, and Seungcheol was Seungcheol, and for two, you were saying shit that was going over Mingyu’s head, making him smile like an idiot. “Bestie? Uh… I mean sure. We’re close, but I work here, Miss Choi.” 

A smirk pulls at your lips when you hear your brother curse under his breath in disbelief; meanwhile, Mingyu has sparked your interest in several ways. “You do? What do you do?” 

Realizing you hadn’t corrected him, calling you Miss Choi, Mingyu swallows hard, his smile fading only slightly as he puts on a confident facade, not wanting to let you get the better of him. “Yeah, um—all kinds of things. I’m the ranch foreman so I’m in charge of all the other ranch hands. Make sure they do their jobs—” 

“So then what does Cheollie do?” 

“Alright, that’s enough. Gyu, the boys should be back from fixing that fence up on the ridge. Make sure Chan puts shit back where it belongs.” Seungcheol had seen this song and dance with you before with other ranch hands when you lived at home or when you would come home during the summer. You had broken a few hearts and got yours broken a few times in the process. You were too important, and what Seungcheol needed you home for was too necessary for you to be mixed up with someone who didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll talk to you later.” Nodding his head towards Seungcheol, Mingyu smiles softly before meeting your eyes and nodding his head again politely. “Ma’am.” 

Waving as Mingyu closes the large wooden door, you laugh under your breath hearing Seungcheol let out another exasperated sigh. “What? He’s cute.” 

“Leave him alone. He’s busy and he’s not used to girls like you.” 

Feigning shock, you pull the heavy bag behind you as Seungcheol lifts two of your bags, heading down the hall towards your bedroom. “Girls like me? What the fuck does that mean, Choi Seungcheol?” 

Your bedroom was much like it had been before you had left for university. You had changed things here and there, giving it a more grown-up feel, and yet every time you were back here, it felt like you were a teenager again. Watching Seungcheol put your bags at the end of your large bed, you narrow your eyes at him as he shakes his head to your question, finally turning to meet your eyes. 

“I don’t mean it bad. You are just... a lot. You never plan on sticking around so you tend to fuck with their heads. Can’t we just—” Sighing, Seungcheol moves towards you, putting his hands on your biceps as he offers you a smile. “Let’s just focus on getting the paperwork all worked out. Get this will shit out of the way and you can get back to doing whatever it is that you do.” 

Whatever it is that you do. Nodding along with Seungcheol’s words, you sigh before returning his smile, only strained. This was another reason you hated coming home. Seungcheol and your father had never understood why you had left home and done something different. You weren’t a ranch girl. You had a brain and you wanted to do something with it. It felt like to you that they only appreciated it when they needed it—like now. 

“Sure, whatever, Cheol. I’ll get it figured out for you, then get back to whatever it is that I do.” 

Mingyu enjoyed early mornings on the ranch. In his opinion, Montana sunrises were the prettiest thing that anyone could experience; at least they had been until he had seen you. There were things to get done—a literal laundry list of tasks that he had set in front of him for the day and yet as Mingyu walked with one of the horses next to him on a lead rope, he could only stare at you behind his sunglasses as you sipped your coffee on the patio while the sun rose behind you. This was his new favorite thing. 

One thing you had missed about being home was the quiet. The city, especially New York City, was anything but quiet. Leaning back in the chair, you sigh happily, feeling the coffee warm you from the inside out as you just enjoy the gentle breeze and silence. 

There weren’t too many people on the ranch to be up at this time. You had always been an early bird, usually beating your father and Seungcheol by an hour every day, but it seemed that the ranch foreman had a similar schedule as you. Lifting your hand from your coffee, you smile behind the cup when you catch Mingyu staring at you. It’s so obvious that he thinks that his sunglasses are hiding where he is looking when he looks startled by your sudden attention, turning his head back towards the horse stumbling over seemingly nothing in front of him. “Jesus… he is cute.” 

Clearing his throat, Mingyu opens the gate, unhooking the rope from the horse and patting on her side, guiding her inside the fenced-in area. He could almost feel your eyes on him still. You were brighter than the sun that was slowly rising and he knew he was going to have a hard time keeping his distance despite what Seungcheol had told him. 

‘She’s not here for long, Mingyu. ‘Sides… that’s my little sister, so clearly… off limits.’ 

You didn’t look so much like somebody’s little sister and it would be rude of Mingyu to avoid you the entire time you were home. Turning back towards the house, he lifts his hand in turn, waving back at you and watching a pretty smile spread across your face. God, he was in trouble. “Mornin’, Miss Choi.” 

Crossing your legs from one side to the other as you get more comfortable in the chair, you tilt your head, setting your coffee on the side table beside you as Mingyu makes his way towards you, wiping his hands off on his jeans. The ranch foremen in the past had never looked like this. They had always been grumpy old men picked by your father for their ability to keep the other hands in line, but clearly your brother had other things in mind when he picked Kim Mingyu for the job, and you weren’t complaining. He had to be what Taylor Swift was writing about when she won Grammys, as he strutted up in his tight blue jeans and tucked in a white t-shirt. 

“Good morning. You get started early. Coffee?” Gesturing to the glass carafe on the tray. You watch as Mingyu’s brows furrow behind his glasses before he nods, leaning to pick it up and study it as if it’s a complex piece of technology he’s never seen before. 

“Uh, yeah, sure. You pour your coffee into another pot before you drink it? That’s some fancy shit.” 

Unable to stop yourself from laughing, you offer Mingyu one of the extra cups from the tray as you shake your head, sitting back in your chair. “No, what are you talking about? Have you never had pour-over coffee before, Mingyu?” 

“Pour-over coffee? Can’t say I have, ma’am. I’ve had drip, gas station, and diner. They’ve never done me wrong.” Bringing the cup to his lips as he carefully sets the delicate glass pot back on the tray, Mingyu makes a bit of a face at the taste of the coffee before tilting his head as he sits down near you. “None of it quite tasted like this, though.” 

He was cute and funny. You had woken up dreading the day, but so far the company and the sky as the sun rose just behind you were worth the trip. “Yeah? That means you like it?” 

“It ain’t half bad. It sure ain’t gonna keep me going—not strong enough for that, but it tastes good.” 

Ain’ts and gonnas. You had forgotten how people talked here. Shaking your head, you try to hide your smile by rubbing your lips together but it’s impossible as Mingyu takes another sip of his coffee, letting out a happy sigh. He was almost infectious to be around already. You could understand from just the few minutes of being around him why your brother liked him. “How long have you been working for, Cheol?” 

Oh, so you were going to get right down to it with the questions. Clearing his throat, Mingyu shifts on the chair, going from resting his elbows on his knees so that his back is bent in a curve to sitting up straight, his back against the chair like it was intended to be used. “Uh, well—roundabout three years. He and I met back in school; of course he graduated a couple years before me, but we kept in touch. Then when your dad—when Mr. Choi started to get sick... " Mingyu knew it was a touchy subject; he could see the way your lips turned down at the mention of your father. There was history there that he didn’t know about and that he might never understand, but it made him sad to see your light fade so quickly. “Um, I—yeah, that’s when your brother hired me on. He needed an extra hand.” 

Nodding along with Mingyu as he speaks, you pick up your own cup, taking a sip of coffee as he stumbles through his explanation. You knew why he was timid about it. Everyone was timid when they talked about your father. He had been a strong and resilient man. He had made you and Seungcheol who you both were today, and yet where your brother idolized him, you felt like a disappointment now more than ever. You hadn’t been at his bedside when he took his last breath; that had been Seungcheol. He was the filial son and you were the rebellious daughter. 

“I see. Well, I’m sure they both appreciated having you around. I mean, I’m sure Cheol still appreciates it.” Sighing against the lip of your cup, you furrow your brows, feeling Mingyu’s eyes moving over your face, studying you. “It’s a big ranch for one person to handle. Dad knew that all too well.” 

Mingyu found himself half wondering if you were skipping around what you really wanted to say or if you meant what you were saying, but in the end right now it didn’t matter. You looked sad and it made his chest hurt. “I—yeah. It’s a lotta work. Seungcheol’s got the smarts for it though and I’ve not got any plans on leaving him high and dry anytime soon. The other guys are good ones too. Promise they will help him keep it up.” Furrowing his brows as he watches you nod again, looking down at your coffee resting your arms on your legs, Mingyu considers his words before looking around for anyone else, then back to you. "But—look, I know it ain’t my place, and I don’t know you from Adam, but... if you ever just wanna talk about what’s going on, you know with everything from your side of it... my door’s always open to ya.” 

That was a dangerous thing to offer to someone you barely knew and yet it made your shoulders and brow relax as a smile pulled at your lips. “I must look really shitty for you to offer that, huh?” 

“Wha—no! You look beautifu—I mean, what? I just… You know I’m just—this ain’t comin’ out right.” Mingyu could feel his neck, face, and ears getting hotter; the more he tried to back petal the more words that came out of his mouth. Finally closing his eyes, hearing you laugh under your breath, he sighs and opens one eye slightly to watch you run your fingers along your neck as you shake your head, clearly amused with him. “Words ain’t really my strong point.” 

“That’s obvious, but it’s cute. I’ll think about it.” 

Leaning against the door frame leading out to the patio, Seungcheol narrows his eyes at what is in front of him. It isn’t even just that you and Mingyu are sitting there together sharing coffee; it’s the laughing and how you are talking to him. It was already too flirty for Seungcheol’s liking. Mingyu was a nice guy and gave off a certain vibe from the getgo no matter who he was talking to, but you put him in front of a pretty girl and it’s game over. Seungcheol knew you were pretty. The genes in his family were too good for you not to get attention and God had you over the years and it had caused him headache after headache. This was not a headache he wanted to deal with—not now. 

“What are we thinking about?”

Shifting suddenly to the sound of Seungcheol’s voice, Mingyu clears his throat, taking a bigger sip of the coffee as his eyes follow his best friend on to the patio. You had less of a reaction and looked more annoyed than anything, simply crossing your legs from one side to the other and then crossing your arm over your stomach as you shake your head and sip your coffee. 

“Nothing. Have some coffee, Cheol.” 

It was more than nothing; that was clear from your closed-up body language and Mingyu’s deer in the headlights routine, but Seungcheol wasn’t going to push it when his presence was enough to stop the conversation. “Don’t mind if I do.” Picking up one of the cups, Seungcheol makes a face at the coffee carafe and rolls his eyes as he pours himself a cup, glancing from his task to you and back. “Couldn’t just use a normal ass coffee maker?” 

“Didn’t want just normal ass gross coffee, so no. Why does it matter? I didn’t ask you to make it.” 

It had been a bit awkward just sitting and talking to you, but with both you and Seungcheol here... Mingyu couldn’t help the way his eyes went from one person to the other as you bickered over something as simple as the coffee. 

“Yeah, well… Coffee is coffee, squirt. Right, Gyu?” Scoffing under his breath when Mingyu shakes his head, refusing to take a side, Seungcheol finally takes a sip of the coffee and curses under his breath at how good it is, not willing to tell you out loud. “Whatever, we got shit to today. Need to get Jun and Soonyoung to separate the calves out and let Chan start deworming them.” 

God, you really were home. Making a face, hearing what your brother was asking Mingyu to do, you slip out of your seat, bringing your cup with you before offering to take Mingyu’s empty one. 

“Uh, yeah—oh, thanks, Miss Choi. I could’a got it; yours too in a few minutes.” 

Scoffing, you roll your eyes and sigh loudly, moving past Seungcheol as he smirks at your reaction. Finally, you were tired of the Miss Choi bullshit. 

“Just call me Y/N, and it seems like you all have plenty to do besides washing cups, Mingyu.” 

Your name was pretty and Mingyu couldn’t stop himself from grinning a bit to himself as he nodded along with your words. “I—yeah, busy day, it seems. Thanks, Y/N.” 

“Uh huh, don’t worry about it. Cheol? Is the paperwork in the study?” 

That was Mingyu’s cue to get up and get moving. He could see the look on his friend’s face change at the mention of the paperwork and he didn’t really want to be present for this conversation. Offering you both a quick nod, he glances back towards you one last time before making his way back down towards the barns, leaving you and Seungcheol alone. 

Sighing under the sound of the water running, Seungcheol looks down at the cup in his hands for a few seconds before pushing up from the chair he had sat down on to move into the kitchen with you. He hadn’t forgotten why you were home, but it still didn’t make it any easier. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to get through this process. He knew how it was going to end so to speak, but the end meant his father really was gone and never coming home. He had watched his father take his last breath and he had shed many a tear, but it still never really felt real. Not as real as knowing his name was on all of those papers saying all this responsibility was his now. “Yeah, all in a folder on the desk. I didn’t mess with it after Dad’s attorney handed it off to give it to you. I don’t know what any of it means anyway. You know I’m not the brains.” 

Putting both cups into the dish-drying rack, you listen to Seungcheol moving behind you around the island. You knew he was apprehensive about this part of the process and you also knew that perhaps you should be, but you felt that there was nothing for you inside of that folder anyway. You weren’t the golden child. You were the disappointment. You were doing this for your brother and that was why you would put on a professional face and help him through it. “Why you got me then, huh? I’ll take care of the hard stuff and you can play with the cows and horses.” 

Seungcheol knew that tone of voice and yet he didn’t want to say anything that might scare you away, so instead he just nodded along, offering you a smile as he scratched the back of his head. “Ye—yeah you’re right. I’ll get outta your hair. Gotta help Mingyu and the boys anyway. If you need me for anything, just call my cell, alright?”

Pulling your cardigan around you a bit tighter, you mimic Seungcheol’s smile before nodding in return and watching him head for the patio door, leaving you alone in the house. It had been a long time since you had been inside your childhood home alone.

When you were a kid, you loved this house. It was a sense of pride. You got to live in a big house with your parents and your big brother. There were always animals inside and outside of the house, but then your mother left and you grew up. By the time you were a teenager, the relationship between you and your father was strained. You knew it wasn’t his fault that your mother had chosen to leave, especially when she decided that none of you were worth her time anymore, but you still blamed him. It was easier than blaming her. You reminded him of her. You reminded everyone of her. That was why Seungcheol’s words cut you so deep, even if you pretended that they hadn’t. 

Moving through the house, you look over the pictures on the mantle and sigh to yourself, realizing that it is your fault that the last family portrait was from before you had left for university. Your father had begged you to take one after your graduation, but you had refused—looking back on it now, you could remember the disappointment in his face. 

It was easier for you to refuse and lash out at him or at Seungcheol when you looked back and remembered being told you were wasting your time and energy on going to the city—your family needed you here. What about what you needed? The thought makes your chest feel tight as you clutch your cardigan a bit harder in your hand at your heart, tearing your eyes away from your father’s face in the portrait and feeling them follow you towards the hall. 

The inside of your father’s study—Seungcheol’s study—was just as it had always been. Dark wood, rich leather, and books lining numerous bookshelves and end tables around the room, not to mention the large desk in front of the window. The desk—your father’s desk—looked the same that it always had with papers covering it, pens not put back in the organizer right in front of where they lay, but the main difference was the large dark brown legal envelope in the center. 

You had a good idea of what all was inside that envelope. This wouldn’t be the first time that you had assisted someone in the estate administration process, but this was the first time you were doing it for your family. You had told yourself it would be easy. Inside that envelope you’d find the will, a few debts that would possibly need to be settled, possibly medical in nature—that was common—and then all the deeds and paperwork that had been collected for everything that your father had. It should be simple. Seungcheol’s name should already be listed as co-owner or signer of 90% of the paperwork and he would be named the executor, giving him assets and ownership of the rest. All you would need to do was make sure the I’s were dotted and the T’s were crossed. 

Sliding into the leather chair behind the desk, you tense up to the feeling—how small you feel in your father’s chair and behind his desk—before trying to push that away and reach for the envelope, undoing the string keeping it tightly closed. This would be easier if you put away your personal feelings and regrets, allowing you to focus on what was in front of you. That would be how you could get this done quickly and get back to your own life—whatever it is that you do. 

The air felt thicker around you as you cleared off a place on the desk before carefully removing the paperwork from the envelope and laying it in a neat stack in front of you. The top was just a letter from your father’s attorney—nothing unexpected, a sympathy note really and nothing more, but it was what was next that made you feel like the walls were closing in around you. 

I hereby nominate, constitute, and appoint Choi Y/N as executor of my will and estate. 

It would be fine. A bit more work than you had anticipated. You would have to stay for a bit longer than you thought, but—

I bequeath unto the persons named below, if he or she survives me by 30 (thirty) days, all of my property, assets, and belongings: 

Name:Choi Seungcheol 

Relationship: Son  

Name: Choi Y/N

Relationship: Daughter

Attempting to take a deep breath, you fail as your eyes continue to scan your father’s will, feeling your heart in your throat. 

Special Requests 

I direct that on my death my remains shall be cremated and all cremation expenses shall be paid out of my estate. Any and all debts shall be paid out of my estate. Any and all other property, real estate, assets, and belongings will be owned and split equally by my children as my executor sees fit. 

Placing the will back on top of the stack of papers, you rest your head in your hands, feeling anxiety pulsing from your head to your toes. He put everything on you and while Seungcheol was in fact getting everything, so were you. This wasn’t as easy as handing your brother the keys to the palace, so to speak, and taking your small percentage; this would take cooperation and time to sort through. 

“Oh fuck—” One last cruel joke from your father, or at least that’s how it felt at the moment as you lean your head back, glancing towards the bar cart under the window facing out towards the back of the ranch. 

You needed a drink; it wasn’t even 9 am and you were already on your feet, pouring yourself a glass of your father’s 30-year-old whiskey that you had never been allowed to touch. Letting out a breath into the glass, you look out at Seungcheol leaning over the gate as he talks to the ranch hands as they work calves through the cattle chute one at a time. It was almost amusing now, feeling the warm liquor coating your throat as you thought back to the papers that changed your life and his, as he went about his day with no idea as to what you had just found out. 

Glancing towards the house, Mingyu furrows his brows, hearing Seungcheol raise his voice for probably the fifth time in the last half hour. It had just started to get dark and they were making their way through the last of the chores for the day when the fussing had started. 

This wasn’t something that he or the other boys on the ranch were used to. Every once in a while, Seungcheol and his dad would get into a bit of a quarrel but nothing like this. This sounded personal and there had been a couple of times when your voice had reached a peak that Mingyu wondered if he should intervene, only to get a sharp look from Jun reminding him that this was family business and as much as they might all feel like it, none of them were really family. 

“Yeah? Well, fuck you, Y/N. I’ll do what I want. This is bullshit…” 

Leaning his head down towards the gate as he pushes it closed, Mingyu sighs loudly, looking towards the house again, knowing this time he wasn’t the only one doing it. Seungcheol was on the patio now, a cigarette between his lips as he muttered under his breath, his brows knitted together tightly. For as long as Mingyu had known Seungcheol, he rarely smoked. This had to be bad if he was stressed enough to pull out a new pack of cigarettes and start pacing. 

“Maybe I shou—” 

“Should what? Get yelled at because you stick your nose in some shit that don’t concern any of us?” While his words were sharp, Jun’s eyes said something else. He was concerned and he didn’t want Mingyu’s big heart to cause him to be the punching bag. “If Cheol wants to talk to us about it, he’ll find us. Come on, it’s time for dinner anyhow and you said you’d cook.” 

That brought a bit of a smile to Mingyu’s face, but one more look back towards the house and seeing you standing in the window of the living room wiping tears from your cheeks made his feet feel like they were stuck in concrete. 

“Gyu! Come on! Move your ass.” 

God what Mingyu would do to fix this. He wasn’t even sure how or what was the real problem, but he hated this. Hanging his hat up next to the door in the house that the three ranch hands called their temporary home, Mingyu lets out a breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding when the door shuts behind him. He had spent many a summer inside this house with other ranch hands; there were plenty of fond and less than fond memories hidden in the walls. 

“What you think they’re bitchin’ ‘bout anyways? I don’t think I’ve seen Cheol that wound up in a while.” 

Sitting down at the table in the middle of the room, Soonyoung yawns into his words, starting to put his feet up on the table when Jun pushes them back into the floor, pulling the chair out next to him to sit down, his eyes following Mingyu as he opens the fridge. “None of our business, but seeing as how it involves his sister... I’d say it’s ‘bout Mr. Choi’s stuff. Just going out on a limb.” 

Wasn’t much of a limb to go out on now that Mingyu thought about it; Jun was probably right. Furrowing his brow tightly in thought, Mingyu uses the toe of his shoe to open the cabinet next to the fridge. Putting the ingredients in his hands down on the countertop, he leans to take out the pots and pans he would need for dinner as he listens to the boys talk behind him. 

“She’s pretty enough, and I mean damn pretty, but Seungcheol didn’t need more headache.” Lifting his hands from the table, Chan tries to keep the peace, seeing the looks from not only Jun and Soonyoung but also the sudden glance over the shoulder from Mingyu. “No, wait—hear me out, alright. The old man was always saying something or another about how Y/N wasn’t doing this or that—she wouldn’t come home for Thanksgiving or he was having to pay for tuition again—” 

“And? He was proud as fuck that she graduated from that school, Chan, and you know it. He wouldn’t stop telling everybody who’d listen that his daughter was a fancy lawyer now.” Scoffing as he drops the hamburger meat into the bottom of the pot, Mingyu clicks his tongue against his teeth, trying to keep himself from getting too riled up in your defense. There was no reason for him to feel so protective of you and yet he couldn’t help it. He had seen that look in your eye this morning and then again at the window. “Jun’s right, ain’t none of this our fuckin’ business.” 

You had expected Seungcheol to react poorly to your father’s will, but you hadn’t expected him to explode the way he had. The look on his face was almost one of betrayal when he read the words on the page before tossing it down on the desk, muttering that it was bullshit over and over again before finally meeting your eyes. 

“Look… Cheol, I know it’s not ideal—” 

“The fuck, like you know a damn thing, Y/N. You think you know everything. That’s your fuckin’ problem.” 

You had started to follow your brother out of the room, but his words had frozen you in place momentarily. It had been a long time since he had spoken to you like this. You were used to the Seungcheol that had greeted you the day prior. You were used to fake pleasantries and brief moments of time when you wished that it could be a real relationship between the two of you—but this was real. 

“That’s not fair.” Shaking your head, your voice quiet at first, you push your hands off the desk and manage to follow behind Seungcheol, speaking louder this time. “That’s not fucking fair, Seungcheol! You don’t get to—” 

“Fuck off. No, seriously, Y/N. Fuck you!” Seungcheol could see how you recoiled at his words; deep down he knew that you were right; he wasn’t being fair, but all he could truly see was red, and all he could feel right now was pain. “You didn’t do anything to help him. You didn’t even give a shit when he got sick. You didn’t come home or even call! It’s not about what he’s—fuck!” Punching the wall next to him, Seungcheol closes his eyes to keep back his tears even as he hears you yelp in surprise before he continues. “You weren’t even fucking here when he died, Y/N. You are that goddamn selfish, and you still get everything you want.” 

Swallowing hard, you blink through your tears as you bite on your lips, listening to Seungcheol even though you want to scream at him and tell him to stop. Even though there was truth to what he was saying, there was so much more that he didn’t know or understand. Taking a step closer to him, you hold your cardigan tightly in your fist against your chest before gathering your courage to speak up. “Ples—Cheol, please stop. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t tell him to write it out like that. It’s not like I didn’t want to be here when he—” 

Not letting you finish what you were going to say once again, Seungcheol slaps the wall next to where his fist had made contact, watching you jump in place. “No. You don’t get to cry and give me that look, then expect me to just believe whatever bullshit comes out of your mouth.” 

Whining, you move closer to Seungcheol, getting frustrated when he turns his back to you, walking towards the kitchen, opening the cabinet to take out a new pack of cigarettes. “You gotta be kidding me! Don’t smoke, Cheol. You said you stopped. This isn’t worth that.” 

Scoffing under his breath as he angrily pulls the plastic from around the outside of the cigarettes, Seungcheol rolls his eyes at you, barely giving you a second glance as he pulls open the patio door, his voice full of malice. “Yeah? Well, fuck you, Y/N. I’ll do what I want. This is bullshit…” 

It had been over a year since Seungcheol had smoked a cigarette and he really hadn’t had any intention of ever picking another one up, but then you had walked right back into his life and set it on fire so what was a little lung damage compared to that? He hated this part of his and your relationship. He was supposed to be your big brother, your protector. You were supposed to be his sweet little sister who looked to him for everything, and yet none of that was true for either of you. 

Looking out over the fields and towards the smaller house just a stone's throw from the main house, Seungcheol sighs, letting out a deep breath of smoke from his lungs, watching Mingyu take up the rear as the rest of the ranch hands head in for the evening. How much had they heard? It wasn’t like he had been subtle; hell, neither had you, but still, Seungcheol hated the idea that the boys might think differently of him because of this. 

You felt like your heart was trying to beat out of your chest with every deep breath you took in an attempt to calm yourself down as you stood in front of the large window overlooking the back of the house. It had been a long time since anyone had made you feel as shitty as you did in that moment. Seungcheol had managed to tear you down completely when he was supposed to be the one protecting you. Still, you knew that this wasn’t him—not really. He was angry and hurt, and you were the punching bag. You were just tired of being the punching bag. 

Wiping the tears from your face, you look away when Mingyu’s eye catches yours as he follows behind the rest of the ranch hands. God, this was devastating. Not only had you had one of the most brutal fights with your brother in your entire life, but now you were crying like a baby for Mingyu to see. It shouldn’t matter. 

You didn’t matter to him or anyone here. That was obvious. It didn’t matter how much things had changed or what had been said between yourself and your father; you had never meant for any of this to happen. Would any of this be worth it if it lost you what you had left of your family in the end? 

Mingyu was usually the first person to wake up on the ranch, and he was usually the last to head to bed. He never minded it, and there was usually something that needed to be done that someone had forgotten to do. Tonight wasn’t the exception. 

Sighing as he wraps the rope around his hand to his elbow, Mingyu rocks his head from left to right, trying to release some of the tension from his neck. It had been a long day, and not even the quiet peeps from the frogs in the creek nor the bright stars in the sky were keeping his mind from what he had heard earlier in the night. 

“Knew I’d find you here…” 

The sudden sound of Seungcheol’s voice is almost enough to cause Mingyu to drop the rope from his grasp. Turning around from the barn door to look at the other man, he moves through the smaller mudroom entrance closer to the main house. “I—yeah, well.” Lifting the lead rope on his arm, Mingyu laughs under his breath before gesturing with his head down at the gear that Chan had forgotten to put up after riding out to check on the cattle further out on the property. “He means well; he just gets lost in his head.” 

Picking up the bit and headstall that had been used, Seungcheol smiles, moving to put them away as he nods. “It’s alright. I—listen. I wanted to talk about earlier.” 

The night air was alright, a bit warm, but with Seungcheol’s words, Mingyu felt it get thick and muggy with his nerves. “Oh? Earlier? Like the calves?” 

Seungcheol knew that Mingyu would pretend like he hadn’t heard the argument, and while he appreciated the act of normalcy, he also didn’t need that as much as he needed to talk to his friend. “No, and you know it. I’m sorry ‘bout all the yellin’ that you and the boys heard. Just—it’s just some shit—fuck... I know you aren’t involved in this, but, Gyu, I’m drownin’.” 

Swallowing hard at Seungcheol’s words, his confession on how he feels, Mingyu’s lips turn down as he hears his best friend’s voice shake. Seungcheol had always been strong. He had been raised by a tough-as-nails man, and he was a mirror image, but right now he was more fragile than Mingyu had ever seen him. “Hey, Cheol… Man, I’m here. I’ll listen; don’t matter if I’m involved or not.” 

Mingyu watches as Seungcheol moves to lean against the workbench, his hands wringing together out of nerves as he tries to keep his emotions at bay. He had known Seungcheol long enough to know when he was holding back, and despite telling Mingyu that he needed help, he was still having a hard time going through with it. “Ju—just start from the beginnin’, maybe?” 

And so Seungcheol did—from the point when his father had first gotten sick to the argument that everyone had heard bits and pieces of. Though it was just from his side, Seungcheol felt like he was being fair and thorough, explaining how you had, in his eyes, abandoned him and your father to do something so meaningless. Lowering his head, Mingyu nods along, only offering small encouraging words to keep Seungcheol moving along with his words, but he never adds his own opinion, just an open mind and a friendly ear. It’s only when things are quiet for a good minute that he sighs, lifting his hand to wipe at his mouth, trying to formulate his words in the right way and order. 

“Can I play devil’s advocate and you not rip my head off?” 

Scoffing at Mingyu’s words, Seungcheol lifts his hands for him to continue, willing to hear anything. You weren’t talking to him now, not that Seungcheol was sure he wanted to talk to you. There was just a lot of doors slamming and remembering what it was like when you were a teenager at home. 

It was clear that Seungcheol wanted one thing, but Mingyu wasn’t just his friend. There were friends who would tell you exactly what you wanted to hear and stroke your ego, and then there were the ones who would take a bullet for you. Those friends were there to stay and it didn’t matter if they agreed with every single word you said or every thought in your head—they were family. 

“Hear her out. Don’t sound like you did much of that.” Hearing Seungcheol take a sharp breath out of anger, Mingyu tilts his head and lifts his own hands, showing he doesn’t want to fight. “You were both raised strong-willed. You and your dad wanted her back here; now she’s here. She’s clearly smart as hell if she understand the words on that paperwork and I swear, Cheol…” Not meeting Seungcheol’s eyes this time, Mingyu scoffs under his breath into his words. “I just don’t think she’s here to fuck with you over this. You’ve whined for months… hell, years about wanting her home and she’s here. Don’t push her out the damn door on day two.” 

Taking a deep breath, Seungcheol looks away from Mingyu completely and towards the house through the open door, seeing the lights still on. You hadn’t told him what you were doing, but you had slammed your bedroom door after seeing him in the hall about an hour ago, so he had figured you were going to bed. While he didn’t agree with what Mingyu was saying, and you had pissed him off in more ways than one, Seungcheol also didn’t want this to ruin what little relationship the two of you had left. “Yeah, I—shit, I know. Just fuckin’ sucks, man. She just—she gets under my skin and just knows—” 

The look on Mingyu’s face was enough to get Seungcheol to take another breath and to stop himself from continuing. He was doing it again. He could feel the pressure rising in his chest and his fists were tight at his sides. “Sorry. Sorry, I don’t know why she pisses me off so much.” Laughing on a breath out, he shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair. “Nah, you know what, I do. She’s this perfect little princess who hasn’t had to work a hard day in her goddamn life. Dad gave her whatever she wanted when he was here and he’s still doing it. She’s never respected him as much as I have.” 

“That’s how you see it, Cheol.” Mingyu knew it was bold to speak up when Seungcheol looked like he wanted to put his fist through something and that something might end up being him, but he was spiraling again. “Listen, your dad and I talked some when you weren’t around, right? He talked a lot about you both. ‘Bout how proud he was of both of y’all. Proud of you and proud of Y/N.” 

Mingyu waits for Seungcheol’s brows to soften before he continues, reaching over to pat his shoulder, a smile pulling at his lips. “Said you were a hell of a good man, and you are. Knew you’d take care of this ranch. But he talked a lot ‘bout her too. ‘Bout all the shit she was doing and how she was so smart and how he knew she didn’t get it from him or some shit like that. Just sayin’ cut her some slack?” 

Swallowing hard, Seungcheol pushes his thumb against his palm as his brows knit together listening to what Mingyu has to say. He wasn’t wrong. He had heard his father say much of the same, even if he didn’t want to remember it. His father had gotten more sentimental near the end, talking about you and him more—about the good times, when you both were young. He’d bring up childhood memories and then suddenly talk about your college graduation and how much pride he had that day. Seungcheol had that pride too. You looked like a million bucks walking across that stage with all those fancy honor cords draped around your neck. 

“Yeah—yeah, you’re right, Gyu. He wouldn’t want me acting like this. He’d be pissed off at me for—” Groaning under his breath, feeling pressure behind his eyes as his father floods his memories, Seungcheol can almost hear his voice in his head. It’s almost too much and the tears sit right on the rims of his eyes as he leans his head back to stop them from falling. “He’d hate that I made her cry so fuckin’ much today. I—I’ll fix it.” 

Staring at your bedroom door, you bite at your thumbnail, dreading the idea of going out of the safety of your room and into the house where Seungcheol might be. You knew you were being childish, but you were still angry with him, and your head and chest hurt just remembering him screaming at you the day before. It wasn’t like you blamed him completely. You had yelled back a few times, but nothing like he had. It was serious for him and you were just defending yourself—Seungcheol had gone for blood and struck gold. 

The house seemed quiet. Seungcheol’s door was open, his bed was made, but you could smell food drawing you closer towards the kitchen. Bracing yourself to see your brother, you wince then stop in your tracks when you see someone else at the stove, his back to you. “Mingyu? Wh—what are you doing in here?” 

Mingyu had hoped to have food done and ready for you to eat by the time you woke up, but you had beaten him to the punch. Letting out a soft, surprised sound under his breath, he glances at you over his shoulder, noticing how you wrap your cardigan around you a bit tighter. It was the same one you had on yesterday—must be your favorite. Turning his attention back to the pan in front of him, he sighs into his words, carefully turning the omelette, making sure he doesn’t break the surface of the eggs. “Uh, Cheol—Cheol went into town this mornin’, and he asked if I might make you somethin’ to eat. He wanted to make sure you had somethin’ more than coffee and a protein bar.” 

Scoffing under your breath, you move towards the island, pulling out one of the barstools and sitting with a huff. “Like he cares…” The moment the words leave your lips, you feel bad for saying them. Mingyu’s brows knit together slightly and you shake your head, muttering an apology as you pick at your cardigan sleeve, seeing him move out of the corner of your eye. 

“Don’t gotta apologize to me. Hell, you ain’t even gotta apologize to him. Truth is he knows he fucked up. We talked about it last night.” Taking a plate from the cabinet, Mingyu turns towards the island, giving you a once-over before he slides the omelette onto the plate and pushes it towards you. “Eat up. You want coffee or juice. ‘Fraid I don’t know how to make your fancy coffee.” 

You can’t stop the way your lips pull up at the corners when Mingyu turns back towards the stove, cracking a couple more eggs into the pan. The gentle sizzle makes you feel warmer, just like his voice, as you pick up the fork left next to your plate and examine the food in front of you. “Juice is fine, but what do you mean, you and Cheol talked about it last night? You two talked about our—” Unsure how to phrase your next words, you stop short and furrow your brows, causing Mingyu to glance back at you and nod. 

“Your squabble, yeah.” Leaving the spatula in the pan, Mingyu opens the fridge, taking out the pitcher of orange juice as he feels your eyes following him every step of the way. “Know it’s not much my business, but I think Cheol was lookin’ for an outside perspective. He just—well, you know how he is. He gets caught up on the bigger picture and doesn’t stop to think about what he’s sayin’ and how it sounds.” Meeting your eyes as he tips the pitcher towards the glass in front of your plate, Mingyu watches how your lips turn down in a frown. He hates that look on your face. You’re too damn pretty to be so sad and tense. All he can think about is how much he wants to fix it. 

“And yet he couldn’t say any of this to me himself.” 

Tilting his head once your glass is almost full of juice, Mingyu smirks a bit to himself and your words before turning back towards the stove and his eggs. “My fault, I suppose. Told him to let you cool off. Figured you could use a moment without seeing each other after some of the shit I heard ya’ll yelling back and forth at each other yesterday.” 

You watch as Mingyu cuts the stove off and picks up a fork, turning to lean against the countertop as he eats the eggs he’s cooked straight out of the pan. It was so different from what he had made you and how he had presented it to you. Shaking your head, you cut off another bite of your omelette, sighing as you chew, your eyes meeting Mingyu’s even as he gives you that stupidly attractive half smirk while eating his eggs. “Yeah, whatever. Probably for the best, you’re right. I have so much to do today anyway and I’d rather not fight with Seungcheol. Makes me feel sick to my stomach.” 

Mingyu nods, taking the last bite of his food before wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “Mmhm, what all you gotta do? Anything me or the boys can help with to ease your mind?” 

Smiling, you shake your head, pushing around the last bits of your food as Mingyu works to clean up, splitting his attention with you and the task in front of him. He was almost too good to be true, but your brother’s words echo in your mind. ‘Leave him alone; he isn’t used to girls like you.’ You clear your throat then swallow hard. “Uh… Nope. I’ll be just fine on my own. What I’m used to.” Pushing your plate towards Mingyu, you fake your smile this time and sigh into your words as you slide off the stool. “Thanks for the breakfast, Mingyu.” 

Feeling the shift in your mood, Mingyu just nods, taking your plate as he watches you move back through the house towards your bedroom and hearing your door shut. Had he said something wrong? Did you not like the breakfast? You were an enigma that he just couldn’t solve and it was driving him insane. One minute you were smiling, almost flirting with him and the next you were giving him the cold shoulder. “Don’t make a lick of sense…” 

It was only 9am and Seungcheol was already exhausted from running the errands that Mingyu had given him. Sighing loudly, he moves through the living room, dropping the shopping bags on the couch before making his way into the kitchen, hearing Mingyu muttering to himself. “The hell you mumblin’ to yourself about?” You weren’t there and there wasn’t any breakfast left; maybe you hadn’t been up yet, or maybe you had already come and gone. Seungcheol hoped for the latter. Glancing back towards the hallway and your room, he furrows his brows and huffs out a breath before looking back towards Mingyu. “Is—did Y/N eat somethin’?” 

Tossing the towel he had been using to dry the dishes over his shoulder, Mingyu leans against the island and nods a few times, looking in the direction of your room. “Nothin’ important. And she did. Made her an omelette. She ate most of it and said she had stuff to do. She wasn’t much for talkin’. I—you think she’s—maybe she just don’t like me much?” 

Seungcheol knew that wasn’t the case. If anything, you probably liked Mingyu too much, or at least you liked looking at him too much, but that wasn’t any of his business. Shaking his head, he rolls his eyes and shrugs. “She don’t like much of nothin’ round here, Gyu. What I’ve been tellin’ you. Don’t get attached. I’m gonna smooth things over, but you know she ain’t stayin’ anyhow. She’s got her job back east and she’s too good for us and this place.” 

Maybe Seungcheol was right. Hell, Mingyu knew he was. You were way too good for him. You talked nice and used words he didn’t understand. You drank fancy things and probably ate even better things. You had expensive clothes and bags—you didn’t want some man covered in mud to cheapen your brand. “Yeah—yeah, maybe you’re right. I’mma get outside and get the boys started on shit. Yoller if you need me.” 

“It’s an inventory of assets and property, Seungcheol. I’m not calling you or Daddy a liar. I don’t know why you’d even—”  Sighing, you close your eyes, feeling your blood pressure rising as you tighten your hands around the iPad in your hands. Things had been going better. Seungcheol had apologized for being an asshole and you had done the same, but then you had started trying to check off one thing from your to-do list and he saw red. 

“I’m not callin’ you a fuckin’ liar, Y/N! Why do you always jump to conclusions? I’m just askin’ why you gotta go through all of his shit! It’s—Sis! I don’t want anyone moving it around. Not even you! I ain’t ready!” 

You could see the panic dripping off of your brother as he paced in the middle of your father’s office, his voice an octave higher than usual. The veins in his neck were visible and you could almost see his heartbeat through them with each step he took. All you had done was take the items from your father’s desk and organize them into piles so you could inventory them properly, and Seungcheol had begun to spiral. 

“Cheollie… You gotta calm down.” Reaching out to take his hand in yours, you feel him start to jerk away before he meets your eyes, seeing the compassion you have for him in your gaze. “Please? Come on… I won’t move anything else. I’ll inventory it without touching it, I swear. But you gotta—Cheollie, look at me.” When Seungcheol’s eyes dart away from you and back to the piles of papers and supplies on the floor, you hold your iPad under your arm and use your free hand to turn his face back towards you to keep his attention. “You gotta trust me.” 

Seungcheol swallows hard, feeling his heartbeats in every inch of his body as the panic attack that had started to take over him begins to subside with your help. He watches you take a deep breath and mimics you, earning a smile from you at his effort. Anxiety had always been a difficult topic for Seungcheol, but the day that your mother had left was the day that he had experienced his first full-blown panic attack. There was little that could calm him down—medicine, therapy, smoking. None of his vices helped as much as watching you take a deep breath and following along. That was why it hurt so much when you left him. You had taken away his safety net, though Seungcheol doubted you knew that. 

“There you go. Better?” 

Nodding, Seungcheol closes his eyes and leans against your palm, willing his tears back. He had missed you so much but he wasn’t willing to tell you that or to beg you not to leave home again. He had spent so much time pushing you away in order to make it easier to live without you for his sake and for your father’s sake. Having you home now was a temptation of something Seungcheol knew he could never have. His family died with his father. You were temporary and in passing. A brief moment of comfort, but in this exact moment Seungcheol wished he hated you more because as you moved to hug him, his heart ached. 

“Good. I love you, Cheollie, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

Keeping you close so that you can’t see the tears on his cheeks, Seungcheol sighs softly and shakes his head. “It’s alright, Squirt. I love you too. I’m sorry I got so worked up. I gotta back off and let you get this shit done.” 

It had been a week since you had started going through the paperwork for your father’s estate. Most of the inventory of property had been completed within the main house and you had been able to speed your way through the smaller barns within a day. It was today that you found yourself standing in front of the main barn and one of the largest tasks on your list. 

Sighing to yourself, you whine under your breath and wrinkle your nose at the smell of manure. You knew that inside of this barn there were several stalls where your father—now Seungcheol—kept horses. You remembered a time when you were younger when you loved coming to this particular barn and to your own horse, but those days were long gone. 

Sidestepping a pile of manure, you grimace and push your sunglasses up your nose before pushing open one of the smaller doors to the barn, getting hit with a strong scent of hay and horse. You were thankful that this was your father’s ranch. This barn in particular was temperature controlled, so unlike the heat that was assaulting you outside, you feel relief even as chill bumps spread along your skin from the change in temperature. 

Just like the inside of the house, not much had changed in the barn either. Seungcheol was afraid of change and you could see where things that your father had hung during your childhood remained to this day. If you were honest, there were things that could use updates, if anything repairs, but after the conversation the two of you had just days before, you weren’t in any rush to have it again. 

Mingyu had sent off the rest of the boys to do various things around the property. Jun was repairing a fence with Chan out by the road while Soonyoung was working with a stallion that had been delivered earlier in the morning. For him it had been a quiet day and that was rare. Seungcheol was taking care of things on the business side and that left normal chores for him. Mingyu never minded the mundane tasks. They gave him time to think and get lost in those thoughts. He hadn’t noticed you were in the barn until he heard muttering to yourself, looking around and then down at your iPad in your hands. Clearly you didn’t realize he was there; you were lost in your own thoughts. 

For a few minutes, Mingyu just watched you with a small smile on his face. You were beautiful, and when you were concentrating, you got this cute little scowl on your face. Mingyu could remember your father doing the same thing—muttering to himself and scowling; Seungcheol did it too. When the sound of the horse that Mingyu's brushing blows out its breath makes you look in his direction, he lowers his eyes and grins to himself. “Didn’t wanna bother you. You looked awful interested in whatever it is you’re lookin’ at.” 

Heat spreads across your cheeks as you clear your throat, realizing you hadn’t been alone in the barn. Mingyu had been so quiet. You had thought that everyone was gone, at least somewhere else on the ranch, but clearly you had been wrong. “Sorry, I just—I’m working on stuff for the estate. I’m not trying to be in your way.” 

“Ain’t in my way. Just cleanin’ stalls and takin’ care of the girls.” Glancing around the barn and then back to you, Mingyu smirks a bit to himself as he runs the brush along the side of the horse. “What sorta stuff you gotta do in here? If you don’t mind me askin’?” 

Laughing under your breath moving closer to Mingyu, you lift one hand to run your fingers along the horse’s forehead and down her muzzle as she nudges towards you. “Uh, just like an inventory of the estate and the barns is part of it. I have to make, like, a basic outline for the bank and their attorneys so that they can sign off on it all.” 

Mingyu nods along, even if most of what you’re saying goes over his head. It wasn’t so much that the words didn’t make sense, but the reasoning behind it was beyond him. “Uh huh, sure. Lotta red tape they are making you and Cheol jump through for something your dad already left y’all.” 

He wasn’t wrong, but you were used to this. You had done this for others, so doing it for yourself—for your family—wasn’t anything new. “Yeah, they like to, uh—when there is a certain amount of money or property involved, the bank likes to “hold on to it” for as long as they can. Make sure their investment is passed to heirs properly.” Rolling your eyes, you scratch the horse's muzzle once more before meeting Mingyu’s eyes and shrugging. “Not that it’s even theirs now. They just like to pretend for a little bit. I’ll get all this to them by the end of the week, hopefully, and it’ll be settled.” 

It was nice seeing you like this. You seemed more relaxed than the last time that Mingyu had seen you and you weren’t actively avoiding him. Glancing around the barn with you, he grins to himself, stepping away from the horse and heading towards you with his cleaning supplies in hand. “��Scuse me. I don’t wanna get any of this mess on you. You need to take note of these too?” 

Stepping back out of Mingyu’s way, you shake your head at his antics as he leans his broom against the wall before leaning back into the stall to grab the rest of his stuff. “I mean—yeah, I have to take note of it all no matter how insignificant it might seem.” 

“Well, this here is a manure fork and that’s a broom…” 

“I know what they are, Mingyu. I’m not stupid.” 

Furrowing your brows, you meet Mingyu’s eyes as he opens his mouth in surprise at your accusation. Lifting his hands, he laughs and shakes his head before reaching back in the stall one more time for his bucket of brushes. “Hey now… I never said that. Don’t be puttin’ words in my mouth, missy. I just figured you wouldn’t know what they were based on how you’re a city gal and all. I’m tryin’ to be helpful.” 

Before you even realize what look you are giving him, Mingyu laughs again seeing the contempt in your eyes. “What? Why you lookin’ at me like that? Like I kicked your puppy. You ain’t even got one, do ya?” 

“No… But you are digging yourself a hole, Kim Mingyu. Are you forgetting that I literally grew up here?” Gesturing to the ground you are standing on, you lift your brows, trying to get your point across. “On this ranch. My daddy was your boss and now my brother. Who the hell do you think I am?” 

He knew you were trying to sound mad and that maybe he should back off, not get his fingers bit, but you were just too cute. “A damn spitfire is what you are. Hell, woman… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring out the claws, but can’t lie and say I didn’t like it a little bit.” Winking at you as he moves into the next stall, Mingyu puts down the bucket and pats the horse's side as she stomps the ground clearly aggravated with the tension. “Shh, everything’s fine, Lucy. That’s a good girl.”

You were frustrated, but as you kept your eyes on Mingyu and listened to him with the horse, you felt yourself starting to calm down. Your blood had stopped boiling and you had to remind yourself that you were the one in the family who was better at controlling their emotions. “You’re nicer to the horse than you are to me.” 

Having moved the rest of his supplies into the stall, Mingyu smirks at your accusation, lifting his head to meet your eyes for a moment before picking up the manure fork getting to work. “Yeah? I don’t think that’s true. I think I’m pretty nice in general. Don’t you agree, Luce?” Feeling the horse knock into him, Mingyu glances up towards her and laughs under his breath. “Don’t go takin’ her side just ‘cause she’s pretty, now. Thought you was my girl?” 

You had to admit Mingyu was adorable as he talked to Lucy and worked. Leaning your arms on the stall door, you rest your chin on your arm and smile at the interaction, finding it and him endearing. “I’m pretty, but Lucy the horse is your girl?” Keeping your iPad in one hand, you reach out, letting Lucy nuzzle against your free hand as Mingyu stands to his full height with a laughing sigh. 

“Is that judgment I hear in your voice, Miss Choi? Two things can be true at the same time.” Lifting his hand to gesture at you, Mingyu bites his bottom lip quickly, getting back to work, not seeing your reaction and how you have to look away from him, feeling your stomach tighten. The same thing had happened when he had praised the horse. He wasn’t even praising you and yet you were affected by it. 

“Well, it seems like ‘your girl’ likes me.” 

That was something that Mingyu had already noticed. The horses were drawn to you, much like he was and everyone else around you that gave you a chance. You were magnetic. “Yeah, she’s a good judge of character. Seems like you might just be a country girl after all.” 

Scoffing, you tilt your head, seeing how Mingyu smiles up at you. Moving away from the door, you find a safe place for your iPad before making your way back over and into the stall. It had been a long time since you had tried to do any of this—taking care of a horse or cleaning up after one—but you weren’t someone who backed down from a challenge. Carefully sliding your hand along Lucy’s shoulder to her flank, you put your hand out towards Mingyu, finding his brows raised for a moment before he finally puts one of the brushes in your hand. 

“You—I mean, go with…never mind, you know what you’re doing, clearly.” Mingyu had wanted to help you, teach you how to use the brush, but the moment you had it in your hand, it was as if you had done this a thousand times. That’s when it dawned on Mingyu; you probably had. You had said it yourself; you were raised here. You probably had horses of your own at one point or another, and despite the way you looked, talked, or acted now, this was in your blood. 

“Yeah, Daddy taught me how to take care of horses when I asked for one of my own when I was little. He said I’d need to know how to do this first. If I was going to be big enough to have one, I had to be big enough to take care of one.” Leaning your head back away from the dust coming from Lucy as you brush her, you think briefly about the clothes you are wearing and how they aren’t made for this situation before shrugging to yourself and stepping closer to continue your task. Clothes could be washed. Nothing couldn’t be replaced. “I used to love doing this. It was calming. Just me and Bella for an hour or so…” 

Bella. Smiling as he leans on the broom, almost forgetting what he is supposed to be doing, Mingyu has to force himself not to fixate on you for too long. He could get lost in you and what you were saying. He liked learning about you and more than just the lawyer version of you. There was stuff that was buried deeper that he wanted to pull out of you and learn about if you’d let him. “So you used to ride? You still know how?” 

Shaking your head, you meet Mingyu’s eyes as he finally goes back to sweeping. You weren’t sure anyone forgot how to ride a horse once they learned, but then again you had never really learned how; you were just put on a horse and took off. The same had been true about Seungcheol. Your dad had told you both that you were born to be on a ranch. As you got older, you grew to resent that statement, but when you were little, you remembered having so much pride over it as you’d lace your fingers into Bella’s mane and ride through the fields. You had been so rebellious even then, choosing to ride bareback, hearing Seungcheol racing behind you, telling you that you were going to fall off, but you never did. 

“Of course I do. I haven’t in a really long time, but it’s—I don’t think I could forget that.” 

There was something about how you spoke when you answered his question that made Mingyu curious and eager. Glancing towards the open window, he sighs under his breath and purses his lips. This was probably a bad idea, but life was full of decisions and Mingyu was tired of seeing his life pass by without taking any chances—especially when you were involved. “Yo—you wanna go for a ride with me?” 

Seungcheol had gotten back from town and the house was quiet. He figured that you were still working on estate paperwork somewhere on the property, but it was starting to get later in the afternoon. You were pushing yourself when it came to this and he knew it was his fault. He knew that you were trying to get as much done as quickly as possible so that he wouldn’t be stressed out, and by doing that, you were stressing yourself out. Seungcheol felt horrible about that, but he still felt a sense of relief that you were going about things the way you were. Things had been left where they belonged for now. 

Moving through the house towards the kitchen and the large doors leading towards the patio, Seungcheol stretches and yawns only for the sound to get caught in his throat at the sight in front of him. Furrowing his brows, he lowers his arms and moves out onto the large patio, following the two horses heading out from the barn towards the fence line. You and Mingyu. 

Seungcheol’s first thought is how nice it is to see you riding again. It had been years since he had even seen you near a horse, let alone riding one, but this wasn’t the way he wanted that to happen. You were out with Mingyu and that didn’t sit well with Seungcheol. It could be innocent, but knowing you and knowing Mingyu, it wasn’t. There was something too close about it all that made Seungcheol’s ‘brother’ instincts go on high alert. 

He knew that he could easily get on one of the 4 wheelers and head out after the two of you—see what you were up to and tell you to get your ass back to the house. He could saddle up his own horse and go about it that way… But instead, Seungcheol stuck his tongue against his cheek and scowled at the two of you heading towards the trees before turning back towards the house. You’d have to come home at some point. 

The ride with Mingyu was quiet for the most part. You enjoyed the peaceful, easy silence as the warm afternoon air gently moved past you. This was nice. There was no rush to be anywhere. No sounds of traffic or yelling like you had gotten used to in New York. It didn’t matter where you were in the city; there were always sirens and cars honking horns. You could always hear someone screaming at someone else. Out here there were just the sounds of the birds, peep frogs starting to come out, and crickets chirping. 

Mingyu liked happy on you. You had seemed so uptight since you had gotten to Montana. At first he thought that was just your personality but it quickly became apparent that that was how you had been living. He wasn’t used to that. Out here you lived with nature, not against it. Nature was calm for the most part and it didn’t rush you or expect you to do anything you couldn’t. Now that you were finally giving in to that way of living again, Mingyu could almost see the stress starting to slide off of you. 

“There’s a creek up the hill. We can stop up there and let the girls get somethin’ to drink and take a rest.” 

Nodding along with Mingyu’s words, you glance over at him, adjusting the reins in your hand as he gestures with his head forward, clicking his tongue, getting his horse to move a bit quicker. You smile, doing the same, feeling Lucy pick up speed with ease, following behind Mingyu. You had offered to ride another horse, to leave ‘his girl’ for him, but Mingyu insisted that you ride Lucy, saying she was the best of the girls. You had to admit he was on to something with that. She was the kind of horse that made you want to do this every day. “Good girl. Just a bit further.” 

Slowing down to a stop, Mingyu easily slides off his saddle before turning towards you, tilting his head, and lifting his hands up to help you. 

“I can do it…” 

“Yeah, I know, but I can help too.” 

He was incredibly frustrating and devastatingly handsome. Rolling your eyes, you swing your leg over the saddle and arch your back, slipping off and into Mingyu’s arms, taking a sharp breath when you realize you are face-to-face with him. “I—” 

While this hadn’t been Mingyu’s intention, having you this close and feeling your breath against his face wasn’t something that he hated. Lowering you to the ground, Mingyu clears his throat, feeling his cheeks burn slightly, though he tries to cover the feeling with a half smirk. “Sorry…” 

You heard his apology, but he didn’t really seem sorry, and you weren’t sure you wanted him to be. Furrowing your brows, you wait a moment to see if he’s going to step back. You feel Lucy move towards the creek, but when Mingyu doesn’t move, you meet his eyes, feeling the tension growing thicker. You find yourself wishing he would just kiss you if he’s going to look at you like that, and as if reading your mind, Mingyu sighs your name, leaning down to press his lips to yours. 

The moment seems to last forever. Your fingers bunch up his shirt against his stomach and Mingyu’s hands grip your hips firmly as his lips move over yours like he’s made for you. After a few minutes, you finally smile against his lips and lean your head back, feeling Mingyu chase your lips before he opens his eyes, searching yours for answers. 

“We should—” Licking your lips, you almost hate yourself for having to say what you know is true. You can feel the knots forming in your stomach as Mingyu’s thumbs trace the hint of your skin between your jeans and shirt. “We should go back to the house. It’s getting late.” 

Shaking his head, Mingyu glances up at the sky, noting where the sun is. It wasn’t that late; he knew that the sun would start to set in an hour or so, but it wasn’t anything to run from. You weren’t running from the setting sun; you were running from him. Tightening his grip on you, Mingyu whines your name, feeling you slide your hands over his chest towards his shoulders to gently push him back from you. 

“Seungcheol would be so—he’d be pissed if he knew this happened.” 

Mingyu knew you probably weren’t wrong, but it still didn’t make it any easier to hear and it also didn’t make you pushing him away easier to handle. Reaching for your hand, Mingyu groans under his breath when you let him catch the end of your fingers on his. ��I—I why? This ain’t got nothin’ to do with him, Y/N.” 

Easing your fingers from Mingyu, you frown slightly and shake your head. “He told me to leave you alone. He’s already been so mad at me, Mingyu. I—this would just be one more thing he’d hate me for.” 

There was a lot for Mingyu to process and he did his best thinking while riding. Watching you in front of him, he moves his eyes along the back of your head and down your body before sighing to himself, thinking back on the kiss. It had been perfect. It wasn’t like Mingyu had never dated anybody. Hell, he was a ladies man if you asked any of the other boys on the ranch, but lately he had been wanting more than just a bed for the night. The kiss with you had meant more than any of the one-night stands he had experienced in the past year and the kiss had lasted less than five minutes. 

Helping you guide Lucy back into her stall, Mingyu searches your face as you praise the horse and thank her for letting you ride her and for the evening. You were a good person. So many people misjudged you without getting to know you. Mingyu had done it the first time he saw you and the others had done it without so much as talking to you for more than ten minutes. Your own brother judged you harshly, but now that Mingyu had taken the time to try to get to know you, he was seeing how sweet you were. He wanted to know you better and he wanted you in his life. He wanted that kiss back. 

“Thanks for taking me out there, Mingyu. It was fun.” You were almost free of the tension. You had felt Mingyu’s eyes on you from the moment that you had left the creek and headed back to the barn. You knew he wasn’t happy with what you had told him, but that was being an adult. Things happened that you weren’t going to enjoy and you had to suffer through not getting what you wanted. You had gotten used to that and good at accepting it. 

With one hand on the barn door, you gasp, feeling an arm around your waist pulling you back suddenly. You can see the desperation in Mingyu’s eyes. He wasn’t good at accepting things like you were and he made you want to be like him—to chase after what you wanted but that was dangerous. Whining his name, you shake your head as Mingyu gently pushes you against the wall, taking a step closer to you and leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. “We can’t do this. Cheol—” 

“I don’t care, Y/N. I just care about you.” This time Mingyu’s kiss is more urgent and he hopes that it speaks in volumes that he isn’t able to. He relishes in your little whines, your moans as he nips at your lips, feeling you arch your body against his. It’s almost overwhelming and the entire thing has his body on fire. You make him want to throw you over his shoulder and find the closest soft surface so he can show you exactly how he feels, but that’s too fast. You were too fucking important for him to act with his dick instead of his brain. 

Even though your brain is screaming for you to stop this and that Seungcheol is going to kill you—you can’t stop kissing Mingyu. It feels too good. Not just the action of kissing him, but the way it makes your lips feel tingly and your legs like jello. The kiss also makes your stomach feel like it’s full of butterflies and your chest feels like it's going to explode with how hard your heart is beating. You’ve felt this before but never like this. You were falling for this man and that was terrifying and exciting. 

Placing one last kiss on your lips, feeling you chase his lips this time, Mingyu grins gently, stroking your cheek with his calloused thumb as he looks down at you, seeing the hazy look in your eyes. That was how he wanted you to look all the time. You should always look like a woman who had been kissed stupid. If he had his way, he’d have you spoiled rotten and fucked dumb daily—but that was too fast. “So fuckin’ beautiful. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, darlin’.” 

You find yourself biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from moaning at Mingyu’s words and his seemingly innocent touches as he strokes your cheek and wrist before pulling away completely. You could get used to that. There was something to be said about a southern boy and how they could treat a woman, and yet it scared the hell out of you how much you wanted him as you watched Mingyu walk away. “Goodnight, Gyu…” 

The smell of coffee drags you to the kitchen more than your will to move. You had forgotten how much of your muscles that riding a horse actually used. Grumbling a good morning to Seungcheol, you grab your favorite mug down from the cabinet and reach for the pot of coffee he is already nursing, not really feeling how his eyes follow you. 

“You look like shit.” 

Scoffing as you lean to open the fridge and take out your creamer, you glare in your brother’s direction before shrugging. “You say the nicest things to me, Cheol. I’m so glad I’m—” 

“How was your ride? This is what happens when you don’t do it for a decade… ‘Course I would’a asked you to go on a ride with me earlier, but… I ain’t Mingyu now, am I?” The look on your face was more than enough to tell Seungcheol all he needed to know. Your poker face had never been great and being caught off guard left you with no time to prepare your reaction. 

“Wh—it—” Shaking your head, you swallow hard, putting the creamer back in the fridge. Closing it, you let your hand linger on the door for a moment longer than necessary before turning back towards Seungcheol. “It was fine. Not a huge deal.” You weren’t going to let Seungcheol get the better of you when it came to this. He didn’t know anything more than you had gone for a ride with Mingyu. That was innocent. Hell, you hadn’t done anything wrong anyway. “We can go for ride anytime you—” 

“Don’t start this, Y/N. I told you I didn’t want you messin’ around with him.” 

Not only had Seungcheol cut you off mid-sentence but now he was lecturing you on your sex life once again. Scoffing after swallowing a sip of your coffee, you nod and furrow your brows, though the look on your face clearly shows how unamused you are—how unseriously you are taking your brother’s words. “Oh, yes, sir. I remember.” Gesturing to your temple, you pout at Seungcheol, watching his eyes narrow at your attitude. “Ingrained right in here, Dad.” 

“Shut the fuck up. Don’t be such a bi—” Stopping short, Seungcheol shakes his head and runs his hand over his mouth when you press your tongue against your cheek. “I didn’t mean that. Y/N, listen to me, alright? It wouldn’t end well for either of you. So quit your shit before I quit it for you.” 

Your blood was boiling, but you didn’t want to fight with Seungcheol today. You had done plenty of that over the past couple of weeks to last you for the rest of your life at this point. Shaking your head, you tip your cup over the sink pouring out the rest of your coffee as you hear him sigh your name under his breath. “Fine, Cheol. I didn’t do anything, and I’m not gonna do anything. Just really fucking sucks you can’t trust me, even just a little bit.” 

Your words change the look on Seungcheol’s face as he watches you move back around the island. As you start to move past him and out of the kitchen, Seungcheol frowns and reaches out to grab your wrist loosely, pulling you back towards him slightly. “Hey… I’m sorry. I trust you. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.” 

Guilt bites at you when you meet Seungcheol’s eyes. While you were hurt by his words, it didn’t make lying to him feel any better. You knew that it wasn’t the end of the world that you and Mingyu had kissed. It didn’t have to happen again and no one had to know about it. “Sure. I’m alright, Cheollie. I’m gonna get ready and work on more of the paperwork.” 

You hadn’t lied to Seungcheol. While you were trying to get away from the conversation surrounding Mingyu, you did have more of the paperwork to attend to. There were still two buildings left on the property for you to look over and today it was the ranch hand’s quarters. Now that you were inside said building, you were almost wishing that you could have that conversation again. 

It wasn’t hard to tell that some of the ranch hands weren’t sure how to feel about you. There was one in particular, Chan, who couldn’t seem to control his face no matter how many times you smiled at him. He didn’t seem impressed by you and you were trying to work quickly and get out of everyone’s hair but especially his. “Um, so—” 

“That’s my bunk. All that shit is mine.” 

Swallowing hard, you meet Chan’s eyes as another man, this one blonde and with much kinder eyes, whispers for him to shut up under his voice. You liked him better; his name was Soonyoung. 

“No, man. She said she needed to make note of things that belong to the ranch. Well, none of the shit on my bunk belongs to the ranch.” 

It had been a long time since you had felt this uncomfortable around people. Clearly they had heard something about you, and perhaps Seungcheol had shared his feelings about you when it came to the ranch in general. You couldn’t blame them—blame Chan—for being upset with you. “I’m not going to disturb your belongings, Chan. I honestly don’t need anything in this ro—” 

“Then what the hell are you—” 

“‘Cause it’s her goddamn property, Chan. The fuck you being so disrespectful for?” Hanging his hat on a hook next to the door, Mingyu furrows his brows tightly, feeling the tension in the house as he looks around at each person. It’s only when his eyes land back on Chan that his nose flairs with displeasure. “And get your damn feet off the table. How many times do I gotta tell you this is a house and not the goddamn barn?” 

You could hear Mingyu and Chan arguing behind you, their volume a bit quieter as if trying to keep it from you as you turn your back to give them space. It wasn’t as if you were that far away, but you could put up the guise as if you were actually focused on your task. Licking your lips, you look down at your iPad and glance around the room before moving towards the living space and jotting down a couple of notes, feeling eyes hot on your back. 

Slapping the back of Chan’s head, Mingyu’s eyes burn as he glances towards you and mouths, ‘Now!’ causing the younger man to recoil from his hand, afraid he will get hit again. “I—Miss Choi? Ma’am… I apologize for being such an ass. Know it don’t make up for it, but—” 

You hadn’t expected Chan to apologize to you; in fact, you didn’t feel like you deserved one. You were invading their space. While, yes, this was your family’s property, you didn’t feel like there was much room for you to lay claim no matter what the paperwork had stated. Beyond that, you felt that the ranch hand’s quarters were theirs; if it hadn’t been for the inventory you were required to make, you wouldn’t have ever bothered them. Shaking your head, you offer Chan another soft smile before meeting Mingyu’s eyes, watching his hand slowly relax on the other man’s shoulder. “It’s not a problem. I’m alright. I’ll be out of your hair in just a couple of minutes. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.” 

Mingyu’s stomach was in knots as he watched you finish your list. You seemed different today. You seemed meeker than you had the day before. You had avoided his eyes a few times already and declined anything to drink or eat even as he cooked for the rest of the boys. “I make more than enough for you and Seungcheol.” 

“And while I’m sure that’s true, I’ve bothered you all plenty. Have a good evening.” Tapping your nails against the door frame, you lower your head respectfully, feeling four sets of eyes lingering on you until you close the door behind you. It had been hard to breathe around Mingyu even with the buffer of all the other ranch hands, but finally you were able to take in a deep breath of fresh air. 

“I admit it… She’s not a bitch.” 

Rolling his eyes at Chan, Jun sighs, leaning back in his chair, letting his eyes move over to Mingyu as he finishes up the stew he had decided to make. “Figured she wasn’t; you’re just a dick, Chan. Mingyu likes her, so she’s gotta be good people.” The way that Mingyu flinches at the accusation of him liking you tells Jun everything he needs to know. 

“And she’s fuckin’ gorgeous. I don’t know how you could yell at her to begin with. I’d rather get on my knees and beg for her to yell at me or somethin’.” 

Soonyoung, more often than not, thought with his dick more than his brain, but rarely did it get him in too much trouble. This time, however, it caused Mingyu’s shoulders to square and for him to toss down the wooden spoon that he had been stirring the stew with. “Don’t talk like that, ya got me? Finish the food, ya fuckin’ selves. I got shit to do.” 

Watching Mingyu open the door and slam it shut, Soonyoung feels like he has whiplash. Jun is the only one who moves to the stove to take Mingyu’s place and he’s the only one who smiles. 

“I—the fuck was that about? I didn’t do anythin’ wrong did I? He’s said worse ‘bout women before…” 

Adjusting the heat on the stove, Jun shakes his head and chuckles under his breath. “You are just clueless. Ain’t your fault that your brain don’t work fast enough sometimes.” Bringing the spoon to his lips, Jun nods approvingly of the taste of the stew before reaching up to the cabinet to bring down three bowls as he tries to explain the situation in a way that Soonyoung and Chan will understand. “Mingyu likes her. Chan was being a dick so that pissed him off and then you had the balls to say—” 

“Ah, fuck! Why didn’t he just say he liked her? I wouldn’ta said nothin’ ‘bout her like that—least not in front of him! You think he’s gonna kick my ass?” 

That was something Jun didn’t have the answer to, so instead he just gave Soonyoung a pity pat on the shoulder as he handed him a bowl of Mingyu’s stew. 

Mingyu had hoped that you would still be outside when he left, but instead of finding you waiting for him, he only saw the sky beginning to change colors as the sun started to get lower on the horizon. He knew that you had been working on your list again all day; you had gone from spot to spot on the ranch so maybe you were heading back towards the main house. 

Jogging to catch up with you, Mingyu calls your name in such a pleading tone that it almost wills you to stop and wait on him. When he does finally catch up with you, he leans over, resting his hands on his thighs, taking a deep breath. “Fuck… I don’t run like I used’ta.” 

You knew you should keep going—tell him that you needed to get something done so you didn’t have time to talk. But, as you watched Mingyu, his brows lifting as he smiled at you still catching his breath, you couldn’t make your feet move. “You saying you’re out of shape, Kim Mingyu?” 

Licking his lips, feeling the drier air starting to dry them out, Mingyu squints at you before standing up. “No. I work out. Hell, woman… you know I throw hay almost every damn day. Shit… are you out of shape? I should—” You were laughing at him. Mingyu wasn’t sure what he should feel, but what washed over him was fondness as your cheeks filled up slightly with your smile. God, you were so pretty it hurt his heart. It had hurt him to say goodnight to you and it hurt him to just look at you now and not kiss you. “I—I wanted to see if you wanted to meet me later.” 

Your smile fading, you lower your eyes and scrunch your nose, trying to think how to answer Mingyu’s question. There was how you wanted to answer it and how you knew you should answer it. “Hmm… I can’t. Cheol—uh, Cheol, he knows we went on the ride yesterday. He was pretty mad about it, so it’d be a bad idea.” 

It’s so clear to Mingyu that what you are saying and what you want aren’t one and the same. Sighing under his breath, Mingyu glances around before reaching for your hand, hearing you whisper his name, but you don’t pull back from him. “What? Ain’t allowed to hold your hand?” 

Now he was being willfully ignorant. Glancing towards the house, you whine under your breath. Even though it's a decent distance away from you and Mingyu, you know that if Seungcheol came looking for you, he’d see you both clearly from the windows or the patio. So instead of standing in the middle of the dirt path that leads back from the barns and the ranch hand quarters, you turn towards the barn, bringing Mingyu with you. 

Once you are more hidden by the large barn, you meet Mingyu’s eyes and work your fingers from his, feeling him cling to you, a whine slipping from his lips. “I already told you. Cheol, he—” 

“He what? He ain’t here right now, Y/N.” When you look away from him, Mingyu reaches up to gently turn your face towards him, feeling you take a step back towards the barn. With each step back, he takes a step forward until your back is against the door and he is inches from you. “I like you.” 

“No, you don’t.” Your rebuttal on Mingyu’s confession leaves your mouth so quick that you watch his eyes search for meaning in yours before he laughs, causing you to knock your head back against the wooden door. “You like the idea of me. I don’t want to fuck up your life and your friendship with my brother.” 

Sliding his hand along the inside of your forearm, Mingyu shakes his head and furrows his brows. If you had been any other woman, he might have let it go, not chased so hard, but there was something about you that had him whipped. He had kissed you twice and already he was struggling to breathe, wanting another one. “First of all, you don’t get to say who I like and who I don’t. I don’t just like some idea of you. That’s some philosophy bullshit and I don’t believe in it.” Watching you roll your eyes at him, Mingyu grins, stepping one step closer so that his knee rests against your inner thigh. “Second, you ain’t fuckin’ up a damn thing, darlin’. I—if you don’t want him to know, he ain’t gotta know. Just don’t run from me.” 

Darlin’. Closing your eyes to the pet name, you curse your body for how it betrays you. Everything that Mingyu was doing was right. His hand on your skin had chill bumps erupting under his touch. His knee on your thigh had you almost willing to settle on his leg, but worst of all it was that fucking pet name. You wanted to run, but right now you wanted to run to him and not away. “He’ll hate me—” 

“Nah, he won’t. Don’t talk ‘bout him anymore.” Brushing his fingers up your arm, Mingyu tilts his head as he takes your bag from your shoulder, putting it on the ground and meets your eyes, really looking at you this close. You were breaking his damn heart by just existing. How had he lived 27 years without you in his life? Sliding his hand along your hip, Mingyu grunts when you gasp his name and it’s like a siren call pulling his lips to yours. 

The kiss is heated, but not rushed. Mingyu didn’t wanna rush a damn thing with you and yet he didn’t want to let you go either, so when you cling to his shirt and your knees start to buckle, he does what’s best. Hands slide under your ass to the back of your thighs as Mingyu lets you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling your fingers thread into the back of his hair. This was heaven. The sun was warm as it set on his back and you were a dream come true. 

You were warm in his arms. Your lips were soft, and your moans were going straight to his cock as he tried to keep himself from getting hard in vain. It really wasn’t possible, especially with how good it felt to be between your legs even like this. Rocking his hips against yours, Mingyu furrows his brows and grunts into the kiss when you nip at his bottom lip, enjoying the feeling of him against you. 

“Fuck…” Mingyu couldn’t remember the last time he had done something like this. High school maybe?  College? The backseat of some car where he could barely move enough to drag his clothed cock between some girl’s legs. You were different. This was different. Mingyu felt desperate. He was practically rutting his hips to meet the way you were rolling yours down over him as you kissed the life out of him. He was so close, right on that edge when you whimpered his name and leaned your head back away from him. 

“This—this is—we can’t do this right now.” You didn’t even believe the words you were saying. You didn’t want to say them. You could feel your panties sticking to your folds uncomfortably as Mingyu took shallow breaths against your jaw. “I’m sorry—” 

“No, hey, no apologizing to me. Nuh-uh, darlin’.” Taking your chin between his forefinger and thumb, Mingyu tilts your head back towards him so he can place a sweet kiss on your lips before he helps you stand on your own and leans to pick up your bag for you. 

Though Mingyu was saying one thing, your anxiety was telling you another. Adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder, you furrow your brows as Mingyu adjusts his jeans and smiles at you sweetly. 

“Go on now, beautiful. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” 

This was the furthest you had traveled from the main house and the last of the property that would need to be inventoried. From what you remembered about the old farmhouse on the edge of the property, it was falling apart—one swift wind from being knocked over, as your father had always put it—but standing in front of it now, you were stunned. The once derelict house was very much standing and it was clear that someone had been working on repairing it for some time now. 

Moving up the steps, you run your fingers over the stair railing. The wood is smooth, as if a lot of care had gone into sanding it down to perfection. Climbing the few stairs up to the porch, you listen carefully for anyone inside the house before knocking lightly, feeling it push forward. “Oh… Um, hello? Is there anyone here?” 

You are met with silence as you step inside of the house. Your eyes search for anyone else, a clue as to who might be fixing up the house, but instead you find yourself overwhelmed with how beautiful the inside already is. When you and Seungcheol had been younger, you would sneak out to this house and run through the halls as your brother would jump over broken furniture and holes in the floor—this wasn’t the same house. 

Wiping his hands off on his jeans, Mingyu furrows his brows at what sounds like someone’s voice. Taking the earbud out of his ear, he licks his lips and puts the pencil in his other hand behind his ear before heading towards the stairs. It was rare that he got evenings like this. Working on a ranch was hard. It was sunrise to sundown almost every day, but for a ranch foreman, it felt like he worked 24/7. When he did get a few hours to himself, Mingyu was always here—working on the house, rebuilding it from the ground up, making it his. 

No one really came this far out on the property. That was one of the reasons Mingyu loved it so much. The ranch was quiet in its own way, but out here, this was peace. So seeing you wandering through the living room not only confused him but also brought a smile to his face as well. While Mingyu didn’t mind guests, he preferred to be alone in times like this—but you were becoming an exception. 

“Y/N?” 

Hearing your name, you jump, having not expected to hear anything after the few minutes of welcomed silence. With your hand on your chest over your heart, you turn to meet Mingyu, seeing the surprise in his eyes as well as the smile on his face. “Hi. I—uh, hi. Why are—what are you doing all the way out here?” 

You were devastatingly beautiful and the way the words slipped off your tongue, even while you were flustered, caused Mingyu to chuckle under his breath as he moved into the room with you glancing around. “Well, I—darlin’, I live here. What are you doin’ all the way out here?” 

Shaking your head, you look around quickly again, ashamed that you hadn’t realized that someone was living in the house. Of course you had noticed that someone was remodelling it, but looking closer, you could see little signs of life among the slight chaos. “Oh! I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Mingyu. I shouldn’t have just walked inside like—” 

While you spiraled, Mingyu just smiled fondly and moved closer to you until he could slide his hands over yours, pulling you closer to him. “‘Course you should. How were you supposed to know? Not like we’ve talked about where I live anyhow.” 

Feeling your cheeks heat up as Mingyu presses his thumbs into your palms in small circles, you tilt your head trying to feign confidence. “I—well, no, we didn’t. But, I didn’t expect here. This house has been falling down for years. God, for decades.” 

“I know. I like a project. ‘Sides, your dad gave it to me and told me to take care of it. What I aim to do. Think I’m doin’ an alright job.” Swinging your hands along with his at your hips, Mingyu smiles as he looks around the room, pleased with his progress. There was still a ways to go but for doing it mostly on his own, he had come far in a short amount of time. “You wanna see the rest of the house?” 

Mingyu’s enthusiasm about something he cared about—something he loved—was infectious. You find yourself matching his smile as he laces his fingers with yours when you nod, agreeing to the tour. “As long as it’s safe. Last time I was here with Cheol he broke his arm on the stairs trying to help me when I fell through them…” 

Shock is evident on Mingyu’s face as he leads you out of the room only to stop, opening his mouth and closing it once before taking a deep breath. “Ain’t nobody fallin’ through the stairs anymore. I repaired them and the floor. That was the first thing I did besides replacing the rotten wood in the support underneath the house.” Gesturing forward, Mingyu squeezes your hand tighter as if not willing to let you go as he leads you through to the dining room. “Replaced all the windows on both floors and what hardwood I was able to salvage, I did. It’s a pity to get rid of all the original floors if I don’t gotta.” 

Letting Mingyu lead you through a few other rooms, you don’t realize how much you are smiling until he shows you the staircase and you meet his eyes. “Looks a hundred thousand times safer than it did. You put so much work into this, Gyu…” 

His name shortened on your lips is almost as nice as hearing you call him a pet name. Mingyu’s neck, cheeks, and ears heat up, a slight tinge of red at the tips of his ears as he stutters through his words and helps you up the stairs by moving his hand from yours to your lower back. “I—well, yeah! I ju—just wanna put my heart into whatever I do. No reason to half ass the place you’re gonna call home.” Gesturing with his free hand to the right, Mingyu lowers his head with another shy smile when you practically coo at him and his words. “Stop it… Jus—I ain’t done much to the two bedrooms on this side, but the master bedroom is ‘bout done and I finished the bathroom.” 

God, you want to kiss him. It’s dangerous how much you are falling for this man as he scratches the back of his neck and smiles at you like you are holding the sun in your hands. He reminds you of the stability that you knew you had with your dad and with Seungcheol. The stability you ran away from when it got smothering—the stability you long for but don’t feel like you deserve. He’s perfect and it’s terrifying. 

Humming under your breath, you step away from Mingyu and move into the master bedroom, looking around with an approving nod before moving into the bathroom taking a deep breath. It was more than the fact that it was beautiful, every piece of furniture planned out perfectly; it was that everywhere Mingyu surrounded you. In the bathroom his body wash and cologne overwhelmed your senses, causing your knees to feel weak. In the bedroom the sense of comfort made you want to beg to stay—and yet you didn’t. Begging to stay would be admitting how much you were falling in love with him. “It’s so nice, Gyu. I, uh—I was supposed to do the inventory thing here, but honestly none of this belongs to the ranch anymore so—” 

Watching you gesture around the room as if you are talking about the entire house, Mingyu nods along with you even as his brows furrow. He could tell that something was bothering you. It didn’t matter what words were coming out of your mouth; they didn’t quite match the way you were saying them. They didn’t line up with how you were acting. “Oh, right. I—uh, I mean, technically the house is still y’all’s. I mean, yeah, your dad verbally said it was min—” 

“Then it’s yours. I’m not taking that from you or him. Daddy never did anything without a reason. You were—you are important. This is yours. I’ll make sure that’s solidified in the paperwork, alright?” Sliding your fingers over Mingyu’s wrist, you feel your breath get caught in your throat when he whispers your name and holds your fingers in his. “I should get back. Cheol will start wondering where I am.” 

You weren’t wrong, but Mingyu wished he could convince you to stay. Here felt safe with you. There wasn’t any expectations and all Mingyu wanted to do was to hold you and tell you how much he was falling in love with you. Lacing his fingers with yours once more, Mingyu nods his head towards the hallway as he clears his throat. “Uh, yeah, then I can walk you out. You—uh, you want me to walk you back up to the house?” 

Staying at Mingyu’s side, the sadness in his voice makes your heart beat quicker as you both start down the stairs. You start to tell him no, that you can make it back home just fine on your own, but you make the mistake of meeting his eyes. “Mingyu…” 

You don’t mean to whine his name the way you do. It’s almost pitiful how upset you sound—how needy you sound, causing him to stop in his tracks to catch his breath. There’s no more time for overthinking. Mingyu just reacts almost instantly, turning back up the stairs pulling you towards him, feeling your legs wrap around his waist. 

Lying over you on the bed, Mingyu slides his hand along your side, feeling your teeth catch his bottom lip. It feels like a fever dream having you here on his bed. It’s what he wants for the rest of his life—your hands tracing his shoulders, arms, and back as you whine his name so breathlessly. “I’ll give you everything, darlin’...” 

The promise laced in Mingyu’s words simultaneously breaks your heart and excites you. Tears threaten to spill over the rims of your eyes as you lean your head back against the bed, feeling his lips brushing over your skin, leaving chillbumps as a reminder of where he has been. It feels so unfair to want someone and something so badly when you know it’s unattainable. You know you should run away—spare yourself and especially Mingyu the pain of what would come after this, but selfishness takes hold of you.  

Pushing your shirt up your torso, Mingyu groans under his breath at the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He could feel your pretty eyes on him and he had a point to prove. No one could love you like him. No one would ever make you feel this way again, not if he had anything to say about it. 

Every kiss earns him a sweet moan from you and urges Mingyu to move quicker. Soon your shirt is discarded on the floor along with his while his fingers carefully work open the clasp of your jeans. “You are so pretty. So damn perfect.” Mingyu knew he was whining; it was almost painful to speak instead of kissing you, but you needed to know how he felt. “I got you, baby.” 

Holding tightly to the comforter, you lift your hips and muffle your moan behind your bitten lips when Mingyu keeps muttering his soft praises against your skin. Tears were fresh on your cheeks and you wanted to hate him for making you want this, but even you couldn’t lie to yourself that well. You were upset because this was love. You loved feeling Mingyu’s hands and lips on you. He was like the sun, keeping you impossibly warm as you tried to cling to the winter frost in your heart. “Mingyu—” 

“Yeah, baby?” Meeting your eyes as he kisses his way back up your legs, Mingyu smiles against your skin and hums happily when you smile back at him. “I’m gonna love the hell outta you if you’ll let me. Lift your hips again for me.” 

Lifting from the bed once more as Mingyu slides your panties from your hips and down your legs, you swallow hard at the way his words make you feel. He hadn’t said he loved you but it was close enough. It was keeping you in his bed, letting you hold on to this dream for a little bit longer. “Now, you…” 

“I was gonna… I’m just lookin’ at you.” Dropping the last of your clothes onto the floor, Mingyu shakes his head and runs his hand over his lips to keep himself from groaning as his cock throbs in his pants. When you whine his name again in an attempt to keep him focused, he grins before moving to his feet, finally doing what you want. 

You watch as Mingyu quickly undoes his jeans and pushes them down with his boxers before kicking them from his feet. “I—” Laughing as your words get caught in your throat, you find Mingyu tilts his head at you, his brows furrowed as he moves back towards you and the bed. “Just—I expected you to be a little sexier about it.” 

“Ain’t got patience to be sexy ‘bout takin’ off my pants right now when I got you on my bed. Hell, woman… we should be happy I even got them off without fallin’.” Gesturing towards you before sliding his hands along your legs, silencing your laugh when you bite at your lips, enjoying his touch. “Have you seen yourself? Hm? Like this, I mean? I’ll never get tired of it.” 

A moan slips from your lips and Mingyu captures it with his own immediately when his thumb brushes over your nipple, feeling it harden instantly. Speaking on your lips, he smiles between kisses, his fingers moving almost torturously slow over your breast, enjoying how soft you are. “No? Then one day I should put you in front of a mirror while I make love to you. Let you see what I see for a bit.” 

Before you are able to speak or argue with him, Mingyu silences you with a kiss that takes your breath away. Arching your back from the bed, you scratch lightly at Mingyu’s shoulder, rolling your hips down over his thigh, begging in your own way for him to do something, anything, before you combust. 

While Mingyu seemed confident and focused on the surface, each time your hips rocked over his thigh, he was losing his mind. You were so wet and soft. Mingyu wasn’t sure if you even knew what you were doing to him with your sweet little moans and whines. He knew that you wanted more and he was struggling to not move too quickly and regret it later. This mattered to him; it had to matter more than some quick hookup. That wasn’t what this was to Mingyu. That wasn’t what you were to him. He was holding forever in his arms if you’d let him. “Shh, baby… I got you. I promise…” 

More promises and yet this time you weren’t letting yourself be afraid. Your mind was racing as Mingyu’s lips once again moved lower. He took his time trying to kiss every mole and scar from your neck to your chest, but it was when he reached your stomach that you couldn’t stop yourself from squirming under him. “Ah—Gyu! You’re driving me crazy. Please? Please do something!” 

You didn’t have to wait long to get what you wanted when Mingyu smiled against your hip and traced the line of your thigh to your knee, helping you put your leg over his shoulder. “Impatient…” Mingyu hears the complaint on your lips just as he hears it get lost in your moan when he traces your wet folds with his warm tongue. He had known you were going to taste good. There was no way you wouldn’t, but what he hadn’t expected was how addicted he would feel after just one taste. 

Furrowing his brows, Mingyu groans your name and wraps his arm around your hip, pulling you down in the bed towards him so you are closer to his mouth. He would do this every day and night if you’d let him. He’d be your alarm clock, gently waking you up with his lips wrapped around your clit so he could feel your fingers tug at his hair. He would happily help you settle down for the night by doing the same thing only to feel you cum on his tongue as your heel dug into his back and you whined his name like a prayer. 

“So good… Oh, fuck! Please… Please don’t stop.” It seemed that you didn’t even need to ask that of Mingyu. He was determined and talented with his mouth. You felt him all over your body with how quickly he was pushing you over the edge. He was racing through your blood and in your lungs with every deep breath that you struggled to take. Crying out his name once more, you tighten your thighs around his head and fall back on the bed feeling boneless. 

If Mingyu hadn’t had more restraint, he would have cum right when your thighs closed around his head. You were trembling under him all while whispering his name. This was heaven. You were heaven and his goddess. Mingyu had never been a religious man, but in this bed you had made him a believer. 

Licking his lips, Mingyu glances up from between your legs to watch you come down from your high. That was better than any sunrise or sunset he had ever seen. Your lips were parted softly as you took deep breaths, causing your soft breasts to rise and fall, enticing him up the bed. 

“You are so fuckin’ beautiful. I can’t stand it…” Mingyu’s voice was soft but you could still hear the way he was having to restrain himself laced in it. Strong and calloused fingers move along your body as he moves up in the bed to lay over you, his lips brushing over yours carefully. “Wanna be inside of you so bad.” 

“Then what are you waiting for?” 

Smiling into the kiss, Mingyu pulls back just enough to nudge his nose against yours before he sighs. “You sure? We don’t gotta—” 

“Kim Mingyu, if you don’t put your fucking cock in—” 

“Woah, alright. Hell fire… I’m just tryin’ to be a gentleman.” Muttering under his breath, Mingyu smiles even as he complains about your dirty mouth and how he needs to clean it up. Just when you start to tell him that you don’t need him to do anything more than fuck you, the words get caught in your throat. With one hand holding your knee to his hip, Mingyu uses his other to carefully line himself up with your needy entrance before very slowly easing his cock into you. 

The stretch is intense. You find yourself wishing you had asked him to use his fingers first, but soon the painful stretch becomes a welcomed one. Gasping for a deep breath, you throw your head back against the bed, feeling Mingyu’s eyes on you as you get overwhelmed with the feeling of being full. “Shit. Oh, my god, Gyu… Move.” 

Mingyu had managed to get most of his cock in you, but you were clenching around him like a vice. You had him gritting his teeth and digging his nails into the meatiest part of your thigh when you finally asked him to move. He was thanking god or whoever was listening that you had let him move when you did, he wasn’t going to last long. You felt too good. You were warm, soft, and wet. Every thrust he got deeper, you were able to take more of his cock and it was driving Mingyu insane. “Fuck, baby. You are so good. Holy shit… you’re made for me.” Groaning against your jaw, Mingyu thrusts deep and hard, hearing you moan loudly, matching how he felt. “Made for my cock, huh? Never leaving my bed.” 

You were seeing stars with every hard thrust. Mingyu was by far the biggest man you had been with in more ways than one and your body was not only adjusting to it, but learning to crave it. You find yourself trying to imagine being in bed with someone else, wanting to separate yourself from the moment and knowing that Mingyu is the one making you feel this good, but you are reminded by his words that it’s only him. There is no one else and even you know there will be no one else. No one had ever made you feel like this. You were floating. There were no bones in your body. There was just you and Mingyu. No thoughts. No today or tomorrow. Just you and Mingyu. 

“I can tell you’re close.” Muttering against the shell of your ear, Mingyu groans, feeling you clench around him tighter. There was no way you weren’t going to cum for him. He could almost feel your orgasm rolling through you as he rocked his hips to meet yours, hearing you sob his name. “Cum for me, baby.” Burying his face against your shoulder, Mingyu bites down and furrows his brows tightly when you do fall over that edge. Your orgasm is so intense that it takes everything in him not to cum right then. He has to force himself to wait a moment longer so he can ease himself out of you; only then does he paint your thighs and lower stomach with his cum. 

Feeling suddenly empty, you pout, keeping your eyes closed even as Mingyu tries to catch his breath beside you. As if he can sense your sadness, the loneliness creeping into you, Mingyu kisses your shoulder, and his fingers trace your lips. Instead of sadness, you get overwhelmed with anxiety and worry, turning to meet his eyes and seeing only love in his. 

“I lo—” 

“I should head back home, Gyu.” 

Swallowing his words, Mingyu tries not to let your sudden shift in mood scare him, but it's impossible. He had wanted to tell you something, but clearly you weren’t ready to hear it. He didn’t want you to leave, but looking in the direction of the window with you, Mingyu just sighs as you move to sit up beside him. 

“It’s gonna get dark soon and Cheol—” Shaking your head, you feel your heart beat quicker as the panic really starts to set in. Even when Mingyu’s fingers wrap around your wrist trying to get you to calm down, to not rush off, you pull your arm away and slide off the bed to gather your clothes, obviously shaking. “Cheol might come looking for me. That would be really fucking bad for both of us.” 

The idea of Seungcheol coming to look for you here didn’t scare Mingyu. He’d tell your brother exactly how he felt about you. He didn’t understand why you were so scared of this or why Seungcheol would be so mad about it, but the fear in your voice made Mingyu sit up and help you finish getting dressed before he did the same. 

Walking hand in hand with you to the door, Mingyu swallows hard when you finally pull your hand from his. There is so much he wants to say to you, but the look on your face tells him that you aren’t ready to hear it. Instead of speaking, Mingyu just smiles sadly and reaches up to brush his thumb over your cheek, happy when you don’t pull away. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

Tears bite at your eyes the entire walk home. You fight them and the pain in your chest until you are inside your house and meet an annoyed Seungcheol sitting at the kitchen island. 

“Where the hell have you been? I tried callin’ you. I was worried ‘bout you, Y/N. I was fixin’ to have the boys get with me and start lookin’...” 

Thinking on your feet, you force a smile and a laugh, rolling your eyes as you take out your iPad and gesture to it. “Just finishing up the last of the property list, Cheollie. You are so fucking dramatic. I guess my phone died…” 

“Died? How—how the fuck do you let your phone die?” 

It was clear that Seungcheol wasn’t buying your story completely, but you weren’t going to fold. Taking your phone out of your purse, you show it to him and luckily for you, it hadn’t been a lie. Trying to power the phone on, you are just met with a notice to charge your phone and an annoyed look on your brother’s face. “See… I must have forgotten to plug it up last night. Everyone makes mistakes, Seungcheol.” Showing him the iPad once more, you gesture towards the living room and sigh. “I have to finish up a few more things.” 

Following you out of the room, Seungcheol narrows his eyes and sighs. “Yeah, yeah. Give me your phone. I’ll go plug it in. Seriously, don’t do that shit again. I was freakin’ the hell out.” 

You had managed to sit down on the couch and put your purse on the floor before Seungcheol had made it to you. He was hovering and it was reminding you why you enjoyed your own space in the city. Giving him an annoyed look, you tilt your head and lean over to pick up your purse, not realizing your shirt has slipped down your shoulder until you offer Seungcheol your phone and feel his eyes burning a hole into your skin. “Wha—take it. Why are yo—” 

“Your phone died?” Watching you nod and try to offer you the phone again, Seungcheol looks from your face back to your shoulder and the hickey starting to form. He wasn’t as fucking stupid as you clearly thought he was. “Kim fuckin’ Mingyu.” 

Shocked to hear Mingyu’s name on your brother’s lips, you sit up a bit straighter and watch as your brother wipes his hand over his lips, his eyes full of anger. It’s then that you realize what he is looking at and use your phone’s reflection to see what he is seeing. “I—no, Cheol. It’s just a bruise.” 

“I’m so goddamn tired of your lying! I’m gonna kill him.” 

You barely have time to react before Seungcheol has turned on his heels and is heading for the door. Rushing to your feet, you adjust your shirt and chase after him, calling his name in a panic, feeling your blood run cold. 

The house was too quiet now. Mingyu had liked it before, but that was before you had been there and made him realize how alone he was. Sighing into his beer, Mingyu furrows his brows as he sits on the top step looking out over the field leading back towards the ranch and to you. He wished you’d come back; he could almost picture you running back towards him and back into his arms. He’d explain how much he loved you and how he didn’t want you to leave him again. Shaking his head, Mingyu takes a long drink of his beer and leans his head back only to furrow his brows, wondering if he’s hearing things when he does hear someone shout his name. 

“Kim Mingyu!” Seungcheol was seeing red and he was out for blood. He had tried to trust you and he thought he could trust his best friend, but clearly he had been an idiot for trying to do either of those things. Seeing the porch light in the distance, Seungcheol ignores your panicked whines of his name as you run behind him trying to keep up. All Seungcheol could see now was Mingyu moving to his feet in front of him. 

“Hey, Cheol?” 

That was all that Seungcheol let the man get out of his mouth before his fist made contact with it. He had never hit his best friend before, but then again, his best friend had never fucked his sister after being told to stay the hell away from her. Why could neither of you listen? 

“Choi Seungcheol! Stop it!” 

Mingyu’s jaw was on fire; he could taste blood and he felt like he was seeing double as he shook his head and met Seungcheol’s eyes. He could hear you screaming Seungcheol’s name but all he could see was the man’s fury as he clenched his fist and swung again. This time Mingyu knew what was coming and moved quickly enough to not get hit. That only seemed to make Seungcheol more angry and more determined to fight. 

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, Mingyu! What did I tell you?!” Pointing his finger towards Mingyu, Seungcheol growls out his words before you grab his arm and try to pull it down in an attempt to stop your brother. This, just like Mingyu dodging his last punch, only makes Seungcheol more furious and causes him to push back against you hard, sending you to the ground with a painful thud. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Seungcheol?” Now Mingyu was seeing red too. He would have been more willing to hear Seungcheol out if he hadn’t seen you fall to the ground, but your pitiful whine sent his head spinning and had him rushing towards his best friend. 

You watch in horror, trying to get to your feet quickly enough as Mingyu manages to land a painful blow to Seungcheol’s stomach. This was your worst nightmare. You had always managed to fuck up things at home, but never this badly. It was one thing for you to fight with your father or your brother, but causing your brother and his best friend to physically fight—this was a different low. Screaming at the top of your lungs for them to stop, you force your way between the two men, feeling Mingyu take a step back first, not willing to hurt you even as Seungcheol pushes against you, trying to finish this. “Please! Stop! I’m sorry! Cheol!” 

Stumbling backwards when your panicked screams finally seem to get through to him, Seungcheol glares first at you and then at Mingyu before pointing at him. “Get the fuck off my property. You're fired.” Turning his attention back to you, Seungcheol reaches for your arm, pulling you towards him hard. “And you get the hell back to the house!” 

You weren’t fighting for yourself anymore, even if Seungcheol’s grip hurt—you were mad that he was trying to force Mingyu out of his home. Slapping at your brother’s chest and finally his face, you meet his eyes with tears streaming down your face. “No! I will leave! Do you hear me? This is my fault. He isn’t going anywhere. Daddy gave him the house, Seungcheol! It isn’t yours to take.” Shaking your head as he starts to complain, you push him back again further away from Mingyu. “This is my fucking fault! I did this! Not Mingyu. I’ll leave in the morning.” 

“Y/N…” 

Hearing Mingyu’s voice, you turn towards him and shake your head before grabbing Seungcheol’s hand, trying to pull him with you. Mingyu watches you, feeling his heart break as you mutter for Seungcheol to come on, urging him back towards the ranch. Wiping the blood from his lips, he leans his head back and sighs loudly, drawing Seungcheol's and your attention back towards him. 

“You’re wrong, Cheol, and you know it.” Watching you shake your head, Mingyu just nods at you and meets Seungcheol’s eyes even as he glares at him. “She ain’t done nothin’ wrong and I—fuck I ain’t either. She shouldn’t have to leave. This is her home.” Gesturing behind him, Mingyu scoffs, though the pain is evident in his voice. “I’ll leave if that’s really what you want.” 

Tugging his hand from yours, Seungcheol shakes his head before running his fingers through his hair. He could already feel his ribs starting to hurt. He was going to be bruised and he was getting a headache. “I don’t give a fuck what you do, Mingyu. Clearly neither of you gives a shit about what I care about.” 

Trying to grab Seungcheol’s arm again, you whine when he keeps it from you again. “Cheollie…” Tears drip from your cheeks and on to your shirt as you start to walk back with him, but not before meeting Mingyu’s eyes and shaking your head. “Don’t go anywhere. That’s your house; I told you before.” You could see the pain in his eyes, the way he was almost begging you to stay there with him, but you couldn’t. You had to follow your family this time even if he hated you. 

Sniffling back your tears even as you move through the living room with Seungcheol, you watch as he pours himself a drink and sits down hard on the couch. He hadn’t spoken to you once on the walk back to the house. He had kept his eyes forward and no matter how many times you tried to whisper your apology, he ignored it. Even now as you watched him stare at the wall, you could feel the anger rippling off of him. 

“Cheol…” Your voice was meek and full of regret as you moved closer to your brother, finally moving to your knees near him on the couch. You couldn’t make him look at you, but you knew he could hear you. “I’m so fucking sorry. I know I lied. I—I disappoint you all the time. I ruined your friendship with Mingyu. I know you hate me and I don’t blame you.” Wiping tears from your cheeks as Seungcheol continues to seemingly ignore you, you whine into your words, feeling your heart being crushed. “I’m sorry. I love you and I know I fucked this up. I—I’ll go pack. I’ll leave in the morning. I swear.” 

Sniffing hard, Seungcheol takes another sip of his drink and puts it on the arm of the sofa, still not looking at you. “Don’t be fuckin’ stupid. You ain’t leavin’.” Daring to look at you finally, Seungcheol has to force himself to stay stoic when your tears cause his heart to ache. “I’m so fuckin’ pissed off at you, Y/N. You lied to me over and over again. It’s all you do—” 

“I’m sorry Cheollie! I—I’m not trying to lie to you. That wasn’t what I was tryin—” 

“Stop it. You say this shit. You always get my hopes up and then you do this.” Gesturing around him like you are supposed to see what he’s telling you, Seungcheol sighs and leans his head back. “You get back in my heart or in someone else’s, and you run.” 

A sob gets caught in your throat when you feel Seungcheol’s pain in his words. His anger had subsided and gotten replaced with something worse and it was eating you alive. “I—I’m not trying to hurt you or anyone else, Cheol. I—that—that’s why I…” 

Shaking his head, Seungcheol looks up at the ceiling to stop the tears in his eyes from falling when you try to explain yourself. He didn’t want your excuses. “Yeah, well, it’s what you’re good at and I just wish that once, just fuckin’ once, you weren’t.” 

It was as if the sky was as upset as Mingyu felt. From the moment that he had woken up, the storms had started. There had been few moments in the day when he could wander out during a dry spell and work on a task to keep his mind from lingering on you. You were all he wanted to think about and it seemed as if you were avoiding him as much as he was avoiding Seungcheol. 

Last night had not ended in the way that Mingyu would have hoped. He could still feel the pain in his lip and jaw. The bruise was already starting to turn an ugly color where his lip had split angrily, but at least he had stopped bleeding. That pain was nothing compared to what he felt in his chest when he watched you turn away from him every time you saw him come near. It wasn’t like he blamed you. He should leave you alone, but that was easier said than done when his heart ached from just thinking about you. 

The rain now was a perfect reminder of how he felt. It came in waves, soaking the ground and keeping him secluded—or so he thought. Mingyu hadn’t expected to see you again and he certainly hadn’t expected to see you watching the rain from the large barn door entrance. You looked too perfect just standing there. It felt wrong to just admire you for as long as Mingyu did, but he found himself afraid if he said anything too soon you might fly off like a bird towards the gray sky. It was only when it was unbearable to just watch that Mingyu moved closer and whispered your name just loud enough to be heard over the rain. 

You had thought that you were alone. The storms made it easy for you to think that. Everything was loud when the rain started to fall on the tin roofs of the barns. You had been trying to make it back to the house when the rain started to come down in sheets, pushing you into the barn for shelter. All day long the storms had come and gone quickly, but this one seemed to be holding on like it held a grudge—but when you hear your name, you realize that maybe that idea wasn’t as crazy as it seemed. 

Closing your eyes, you sigh and lower your head at Mingyu’s voice. There was no slipping away from him this time. No pretending like you didn’t hear him or that he didn’t see you standing where you were… You could feel your heart tightening as his fingers brushed over yours and he sighed your name once more, almost begging you without any other words to talk to him. 

“Mingyu, please stop…” You hear him start to speak again, but before he can try to plead his case, you bite the bullet, lifting your eyes to meet his sad ones. “Jus—just don’t, okay? Don’t do this.” Watching him shake his head, hurt and confusion in his gaze, you stay calm, keeping your own tears at bay as you force the words out. “I’m leaving soon. I’m gonna go back to the city. I mean… Let’s be serious, Mingyu… I’m not good for anyone.” 

It was clear what you were trying to do. Mingyu wasn’t an idiot. He could see the look on your face. See the tears sitting on the rims of your eyes even if you wouldn’t let them fall. You were doing your best to push him away and it wasn’t going to happen. Not while he was breathing. Scoffing, Mingyu slides his fingers against yours, taking your hand in his even as you whine his name and close your eyes as if trying to will yourself away from him and your feelings. “Tell me why? Huh?” 

Exasperated, you start to look away from Mingyu as you open your eyes, only for him to turn your face back towards him carefully. “Stop. Why are you doing this? I told you, I am leaving.” 

“And I asked why? Why do you gotta go? Answer that.” 

It seems like such a simple question, one that you should know the answer to as easy as breathing, but you falter. Shaking your head, you open your mouth and close it for a moment before taking a breath and gesturing towards him and then out at the ranch. “Because, Gyu! That’s where my life is. That’s where my job is.” 

Nodding along with your words, Mingyu tries to tighten his grip on your hand when you pull it away, causing him to sigh into his words. “Baby… Why can’t that be here? Huh? You got a life here—” 

“Don’t…” The tears that you had been keeping at bay finally fall onto your cheeks as you take a step back. “Don’t call me that.” 

Following you step by step without trying to push you away from him, Mingyu fights the urge to pull you into his arms and comfort you. The tears on your cheeks break his heart but also tell him that he’s right. “Why not?” 

You try to keep walking away from Mingyu, wanting to put more distance between what you want and what you know you can’t have when you feel the door of the barn against your back stopping you. A soft sob slips from between your lips, causing your words to soften. “Because… it hurts.” 

Giving into his need to touch you, to keep you safe as your voice shakes, Mingyu holds your wrists loosely, happy when you don’t pull away. “Why, baby?” You don’t answer right away; instead, you turn your head to the side, more tears slipping down your cheeks as he uses the pet name again, causing your heart to tighten in your chest. “Why does it hurt?” 

Mingyu watches you shake your head, your brows furrowing as you fight the urge to tell him the truth and if you should run away instead. “Is it ‘cause you might love me?” He knew it was bold of him to say and even bolder to assume, but he felt it when you kissed him. He could see it in your eyes even as you looked for your escape plan. 

Knocking your head back against the door, you shake your head and avoid Mingyu’s eyes for as long as you can until he wipes the tears from your cheeks. “Shut up.” You had never been afraid to tell men that you loved them in the past. The truth was that you had never meant it often. Those three words had been for the most part, just part of the routine. You’d meet a nice guy, move in for a while, say the words, and then get bored, but then Mingyu. The words weren’t just routine. They weren’t just words. 

Not hiding the way the corners of his lips pull up into a smile, Mingyu nods before leaning to brush his nose against yours, testing the waters. Would you pull away? Tell him to get the hell away from you. When you do neither of those things, your hands moving slide over his stomach, Mingyu bites his lips, letting out a slow breath once again and biting a bullet. “It’s alright, baby. I might just love you too.”  

The rain had gotten harder, but so had your tears. Shaking your head, you finally pull away, stepping out from the barn and feeling the rain begin to soak through your clothing as it washes away your tears. The idea that Mingyu loved you was overwhelming and it changed too much. If you ran away—did what you always did—you couldn’t get hurt, and you couldn’t hurt anyone else, only this time someone wasn’t letting you. 

It didn’t matter to Mingyu that he was getting soaked from the rain. He couldn’t stand the idea of you leaving him. He had seen that look on your face. He knew it in his heart how you felt even if you couldn’t say it yet. Licking the rain from his lips, Mingyu grabs your hand and meets your eyes when you whine his name. He can tell what is rain and what is your tears, but that doesn’t matter as his hand wipes it all from your cheeks so his lips can meet yours, hopefully saying everything you need to hear. 

Water drips from both you and Mingyu as he carries you into his house, letting the screen door slam close behind him. There wasn’t a single thing else on his mind than you in his arms at the moment with your lips on his. If it weren’t for the fact that he could feel you starting to shiver against him, Mingyu would have put you against the wall right against the front door and taken you right there. 

You hadn’t planned to end up back here, but then again you hadn’t planned on any of this. How could you have foreseen Kim Mingyu? How could you have imagined how one man would turn your entire life upside down and leave you so completely breathless with just a kiss or his strong hands keeping you secure in his arms? You had never been the type of woman to want to be carried or manhandled, but that also had changed when you had met Mingyu because now you found yourself being carried up the stairs and into his bathroom. “Gyu… put me down. I can walk…” 

“I know what you can do, baby.” Giving you his most blinding grin, Mingyu shakes his head as he sits you on the bathroom counter so he can slide his hands up your thighs under your wet dress. “And I know what I can do for you. Why the hell would I make you walk when I can do it for you?” Tsking as if it’s simple addition, he steps between your legs, urging you to lift your hips, letting him slip the dress further up your body and over your head. “Now I’m gettin’ you out of these wet clothes and into a warm shower.” 

Leaning back against the mirror, you bite at your bottom lip, letting your eyes move over Mingyu as he stands in front of you. “Yeah? I’m not the only one in wet clothes.” The rain had soaked you both to your skin. Mingyu’s white t-shirt clung to his chest, leaving little to your imagination, while water dripped from his hair. 

“Is that your way of askin’ me to join you?” 

Goosebumps were covering your skin, even as the steam had started to fill the room, making the air around you both warmer; it wasn’t enough to hide the effect Mingyu had on you. “What do you think? You gonna make me shower alone? After bringing me all the way here?” 

Mingyu had been good at keeping the confident facade up until that point. He was head over heels for you. You ask him to get on his knees and beg to shower with you at that point and he’d do it without so much as a question. Tugging his shirt over his head, he drops it on the floor next to your dress, meeting your eyes once again before tugging you to the end of the counter so that he can get his lips back on yours, speaking against them. “I’ll never make you do a single fuckin’ thing alone again, baby.” 

You wanted to give in to Mingyu, believe that you could have what he was promising. While a tiny voice inside your head told you to run, your heart was too lost on the moment. Furrowing your brows, you give into the kiss and melt into Mingyu’s touch. For once in a long time, you give yourself completely to the moment and to someone else, hoping they will catch you when you fall—and he does. 

It doesn’t take too much longer for Mingyu to have the rest of your clothes and his discarded on the floor or for him to have your back against the wall of the shower. Moaning into his mouth, you keep your legs tight around his waist, enjoying the overwhelming feeling of Mingyu pinned against you. “Please…” 

“Please?” Nudging his nose against your jaw, Mingyu grins and licks the water from his lips when you whine his name. “What? I’m just tryin’ to understand what you want from me, darlin’. I got you where I said I would…” 

He was frustrating in all the best ways. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing as Mingyu’s cock rested between your body and his. It wouldn’t take much for him to slide right into you and get you as full as he had the day before, but he was being coy. Two could play that game. Knocking your head back against the tile wall, you pout at Mingyu before rolling your hips towards him, watching his mouth fall open in a silent groan. “You did, but if this is all you’re gonna do… You might as well put me down and let me actually take a shower.” 

Scoffing, Mingyu presses you tighter against the wall, his smirk lifting at his lips once again when you gasp. You were soft and wet against him. It was more than what was left over from the rain and the water from the shower—this was you leaking between your legs as you teased him. “You’re so full of shit, baby.” 

You start to give some witty comeback about how at least you are full of something since it’s not him when Mingyu renders you speechless. The pressure of his cock bullying its way into your tight pussy causes a breath to get stuck in your throat that you only let go of when his hips are flush with yours. The first deep thrust has you seeing stars. You had been full of Mingyu before, but this felt different. He was determined and you could do nothing but cling to him and moan as your walls tightened around him even further, begging him for more. 

“Fuck, baby. You feel like heaven.” Mingyu was whining into every single groan as he fucked you slowly but deeply against the shower wall. He could feel every time your pussy clenched around him. He could tell you were close by how your smooth walls were holding him like your life depended on keeping him close. “God, I—I love you, Y/N. I know it ain’t fair to say it right now, but dammit, baby, it’s true.” 

Closing your eyes so tight that you force the tears from them, you hold back your sob as Mingyu buries his face against your neck. You know what you want to say in return—you love him too, but the words don’t leave your mouth. You instead find your escape when Mingyu quietly begs you to cum for him, telling you that he can’t wait—that he needs you to let go for him. Unable to hold yourself back anymore, you gasp for a deep breath, unable to take it when your orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave with one of Mingyu’s hard thrusts. 

“Oh, fuck…” The word is drawn out. Mingyu’s vision goes white as he bites at his lips, trying to stop himself from following you immediately, knowing he needs to restrain himself. It’s when he tries to separate himself from you, his climax so close that he can taste it, that you sob his name and tell him to stay. Meeting your eyes, Mingyu thinks he could pass out or die right then and there. It isn’t the smartest or safest thing in the world to do, but he nods, his hand sliding along yours to pin your wrist to the wall as he buries himself inside of you as deeply as possible, spilling his cum into you with a loud, drawn-out groan. 

The water from the shower had started to go cold. If this had been your apartment, you would find that annoying, but in Mingyu’s arms as he held you back against his chest, working soap over your body, you didn’t care. There was a lot left unsaid, especially by you, but the brush of Mingyu’s lips over your ear and your fingers walking along his forearm said plenty—just not enough. 

“I love you, baby.” Closing your eyes again, you turn your head away from Mingyu’s lips, hearing him sigh against your head. “It’s alright. You ain’t gotta say it back right now… But I sure as hell ain’t gonna stop tellin’ you.” 

“I know, Gyu…” Your voice is quiet even as the water is cut off and Mingyu helps you out of the shower wrapping a towel around you. “I—I’m selfish. I don’t want you to stop telling me.” 

Shaking his head, Mingyu smiles softly, his head tilted as he uses the towel to wipe some water from your cheek before rubbing his hands along your arms over the towel. “That ain’t selfish.” Taking a deep breath, he wraps a towel around his waist before returning his attention to you and helping you dry off slowly. “Just means you’ll tell me when you’re ready. I’m patient.”

Furrowing his brows at the light making its way through his blinds, Mingyu sighs, sliding his hand along the bed to reach out for you. It had been a dream come true to sleep with you in his arms, and it seemed like that dream was over. The other side of his bed was cold now. Forcing his eyes open, Mingyu frowns, seeing the reality of what he knew—you weren’t there. In the place where you had slept, there was just a daisy lying on your pillow. 

You hadn’t given him a real answer last night and now, as Mingyu looked at the flower between his fingers, he still didn’t know what you wanted. You had taken the time to wander around the house and out of it to pick a flower next to the porch before bringing it back upstairs to him and yet you hadn’t said goodbye. It felt final and made Mingyu’s stomach feel like it was full of stones. 

It had been a couple of hours since you had gotten back to the house. You had managed to get there before Seungcheol had thankfully even considered waking up and now you were pushing around breakfast on a plate. The smell of the food alone was enough to turn your stomach as you listened to the sound of footsteps shuffling into the room and Seungcheol’s rough greeting as he slumped down into a chair. 

You looked like you hadn’t slept at all. There was a sad look on your face and you barely whispered a good morning to him as your brother studied you. There was something wrong. You would barely look up from the papers in front of you. “Uh—is uh, the inventory shit done? You alright?” Sliding a mug closer to him, Seungcheol starts to pour himself a cup of coffee when you nod and sigh out of your nose, finally meeting his eyes. You have been crying. Seungcheol can see the makeup under your eyes, but no matter how much you try to hide it, he knows what it looks like when you cry. 

“Yep. All good. It’s done and just needs you to sign a couple of things.” Blinking a few times feeling Seungcheol’s heavy gaze, you look back down at the paperwork, putting a pen on top of a stack of papers and sliding them towards him. “Those are for the bank. Basically just what was in the will and estate.” 

Nodding along with your words, Seungcheol picks up the pen, glancing over the papers before signing his name below yours on each sheet of paper. It’s only when he reaches the last one, where his name is above yours, that he stops, his brows furrowing. “What the fuck is this one? I haven’t seen—” Muttering under his breath, he reads aloud a few words loud enough for you to hear as you shift uncomfortably, waiting for him to just get it over with. “Liquidation of Miss Choi’s half of assets and property… No. No, Y/N. I won’t sign this shit.” 

You have to force yourself to meet Seungcheol’s eyes as he shakes his head, pushing the papers back towards you so hard that most of them scatter. “Cheol! Please listen to me. I’m doing this beca—” 

“Fuck you! You don’t get to do this again!” With tears on the rims of his eyes, Seungcheol pushes back on his chair hard, causing it to fall back on the floor as he comes to a stand. “Do you hate me that fuckin’ much?” Instead of getting an answer from you, Seungcheol is met with silence and tears on your cheeks. “Wow, Y/N…” 

The silence is deafening as Seungcheol walks out of the room. The only sound you hear is the slam of the door as he goes outside, leaving you alone in the house with your thoughts that make you feel like you are drowning. 

Mingyu isn’t sure what he expected to find when he reached the main house. He had hoped that maybe you would be waiting for him or that maybe you’d come running out to meet him and jump into his arms. None of that happened; he instead finds Seungcheol sitting on the porch with a cigarette between his lips and tears on his cheeks. “What—” Looking between him and the house, Mingyu swallows hard as his brows furrow at the sight of his best friend so broken in front of him. “What happened?” 

There wasn’t anything to say and there was no way that Seungcheol was going to explain all of this to Mingyu right now. The anger was still too fresh. Barely meeting Mingyu’s eyes, Seungcheol simply gestures back towards the house where you are without saying a word. 

The sound of footsteps once again has your stomach in knots. You try to pull yourself together, wiping the tears from your cheeks, readying to defend yourself to Seungcheol once again when you look up to see Mingyu instead. Of course it would be worse. You find yourself playing the morning back, laying next to him as the sun started to rise and running your fingertip over the bridge of his nose before fear ripped through you so you ran away. Now he stood in front of you looking at the papers spread out on the table. “Mingyu…” 

“I was—well, I was coming to see why you left, but Cheol—” Shaking his head, unable to finish what he is saying as his brows furrow at the paperwork in front of him, Mingyu picks up one of the papers before sighing your name. “You really wanna leave?” 

Sighing, fresh tears falling onto your cheeks, you gesture around you as a scoff slips from your lips as if it should be obvious. “I fuck everything up, Mingyu. No one needs me here!” Pushing back from the table like Seungcheol had before, you start to walk away when a hand on yours stops you. 

“Who says? Who gets to decide that, baby?” Shaking his head, Mingyu takes a step towards you, dropping the paper back onto the table as you whine his name and try to pull your hand from his. “You are always runnin’ away. I ain’t like the rest that just let you, dammit!” 

Mingyu’s words cut at you deep. It was obvious that you were always running away and he was calling you out on it. Shaking your head to disagree with logic, you tug at his hand only to be pulled towards him, feeling his other hand gently wipe at your tears. 

“Now, I love you, and I want you to stay with me.” Even as you close your eyes, Mingyu just sighs and continues, knowing you can still hear him, the tears rolling down your cheeks for him to wipe away. “Baby, I know that Cheol wants you to stay.” 

No matter how tightly you close your eyes and try to run away, to will this all away where you can’t hurt Mingyu or Seungcheol, when you open your eyes Mingyu is still standing in front of you. He’s still there holding you and begging you to admit that you love him. Leaning your head forward, you rest it against Mingyu’s chest, his fingers running over the back of your head soothingly as you mutter softly. “What if I fuck this up?” 

Shrugging, Mingyu smiles against your head before kissing the same place gently. “Then I’ll fix it. I’ll fix you.” 

The words and the idea of them make you laugh, but you know he isn’t lying. Pouting, you finally look up at Mingyu so he can cup your cheek and brush his lips against yours. Finally, after fighting it for days, the words make it past your lips and to his ears. “I love you, Mingyu.” 

You feel his lips pull up against yours, his smile infectious, causing you to smile in return before his arms hold you to him for a few more moments. 

“Say it again.” 

Sighing softly, you nod. “I love you.” 

The words are like music to Mingyu’s ears and more than that, they feel like a promise he’s been dying to hear. Taking a step back, he brushed his thumb against your bottom lip before looking back to the table, picking up the piece of paper that had caused so much hurt today. You watch as he furrows his brows, his eyes quickly looking over the words before he hands it to you, letting you decide what you are going to do. 

It feels like minutes, maybe hours, as you hold the paper in your hands before you finally do what you should have done from the beginning—you rip it in half. With the two halves of the paper falling to the ground, you feel the anxiety in your chest lift as Mingyu pulls you back against him, and he welcomes you home. 

READ THE BONUS NOW

 © onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

[cameronsbabydoll]

TUMMY ACHE — RAFE CAMERON

WARNINGS — none! just fluff and comfort

Rafe doesn’t even hesitate when he sees your name flash across his phone screen. He’s in the middle of a meeting, one of those long, boring ones where men in stiff suits drone on about margins and profits—things that should matter to him. But the second he hears your sniffling over the line, everything else fades.

“Angel?” His voice drops, no longer sharp and businesslike, but soft, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

You hiccup, struggling to get the words out, and he’s already shoving his chair back, standing up. His employees glance at him, startled, but he doesn’t care.

“M-my tummy hurts,” you whimper, voice small and shaky.

That’s all it takes. He’s grabbing his keys, not even bothering to excuse himself as he strides out of the office. “I’m on my way, sweetheart. Just breathe for me, yeah?”

By the time he gets home, you’re curled up in bed, still sniffling, little tears clinging to your lashes. He kneels by the bed immediately, brushing them away with the pad of his thumb.

“Poor baby,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your warm cheek. “My girl’s not feeling so good, huh?”

You shake your head, pouting, and he exhales, scooping you up into his lap effortlessly. You tuck yourself against his chest, his expensive cologne wrapping around you, grounding you.

“I got you,” he promises, rocking you gently. “Gonna take care of you, pretty girl.”

He strokes your hair, cooing at you like you’re something fragile, something precious—which, to him, you are. His fingers rub soothing circles on your tummy, his voice low and sweet as he murmurs reassurance.

“You just needed me, huh?” he teases, his smirk soft, affectionate.

You nod against him, and he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, I know baby. I’ll always come when you need me. Basically my job after all.”

[oreo-creampies]

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮; 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, assistant/sugarbaby!reader, playfully mean(to you)!sugardaddy!ceo!geto, ceo!gojo, taped on vibrator, small butt plug (no anal), edging, window sex, masturbation, squirting on the window, control orgasm, calling suguru sir, service sub!reader, bdsm hints, light begging, dirty talking, heavy praise/light degradation, hints at sharing you, spanking, biting

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Suguru squeezing the ass of his cute little assistant. He loves hearing her soft squeal when he does it

Oreo: I’ve been fighting a headache trying to get this one done because I have a night need to be fucked like a whore against a window while gojo watches

Suguru looks past Jin, rock hard beneath the desk. You’re beautiful struggling to maintain your composure. Holding up his hand Jin falls quiet. “Bring me a glass of water.” Smirking when you stiffly stand, clenching your thighs together.

Clenching your thighs together, keeping eyes casted down, clasping your hands in your lap. Biting your lip, fighting for your life not to moan when the vibrator taped to your clit pulses faster.

You’re so close to cumming on Suguru’s sofa with one of his employees explaining their concerns. Soaking your underwear, your cunt clenching nothing. Your ass squeezing the small training plug.

“Yes sir!” Your voice is shaking, your whole body burning, cunt throbbing and tingling from the immense pleasure.

Turning away from Jin’s curious gaze. “As you were saying Mr. Jin.” The vibrations stop, the reprieve is welcoming and disappointing. Your sensitive clit twitches from getting worked up so close and the sudden lack of stimulation.

Opening the fully stocked mini fridge built into the wall, pulling out the bottle of water and a chilled glass from the cabinet beside. The toy vibrates on your soft clit, slapping your hand over your mouth, fighting yourself not to moan.

Ignoring Jin’s drawl, purely focusing on maintaining your slipping composure and not spilling the water. Throwing the plastic bottle into the recycle, grabbing the chilled glass of water, trembling. Getting lost in the sweet pleasure, it vanishes.

Taking a deep breath turning around to face your sugar daddy and his employee. Suguru isn’t looking at you, smiling at Jin. “Thank you for bringing that to my attention, I’ll see to it that’s taken care of, please see yourself out.” Pressing the button under his desk for the doors to slide open.

Jin nods his head, clasping his hands behind his back. “Yes sir, thank you.” Stiffly walking past Jin, grateful he finally leaving. Going around Suguru’s desk. Holding out his glass of water, his warm thick fingers brush your’s.

Pushing himself away from the desk. His thick bulge in his black dress pants, “Good girl, thank you for the water.” Squeezing a handful of your soft ass, you softly gasp, glancing over to where Jin stands on the elevator peering with wide eyes through the closing office doors.

Suguru massages your cheek. the toy vibrate on your soft clit. “Don’t cum, not yet.” Standing up, grabbing your jaw, gently prying you mouth open with his thumb. Taking a sip and spitting it into your mouth. “Swallow, but you can’t cum yet.”

Setting the cup down, unbutton your dress shirt. “Please! I don’t know how much longer I cannnn!” Clenching your trembling thighs together, knees buckling, legs weak. You grab onto Suguru’s hard, thick bicep.

Getting off on his massive height, unable to stop thinking of fat cock he has for you underneath his pants. Stroking his cock through his pants. “A little bit longer, you’re so hot squirming, struggling not to cum just to make me happy.” Tugging your skirt down, for you to step out of.

His phone buzzes, whining when Suguru answers, “Nasty pervert, I’ll fuck her against the glass for you to watch.” Putting his phone on speaker on the desk. “She such a slut she will get off on seeing you stroke your cock to her.” Slipping your shirt off, unclasping your bra, he can’t get them off fast enough.

Tears trickle down your face, Suguru wipes away one with his thumb. “Aw my sweet little slut is crying cause she can’t cum yet.” Turning to face the window, grabbing your leg lifting showing Satoru your sloppy wet cunt.

Begging, crying, cunt dripping. “I’m gonna! Please! I can’t hold back! It’s too much.” Grinding your hips back, Suguru’s hard cock pressed against your lower back.

Satoru unzips his pants, dropping them with his underwear, sitting down, squirting lube into his hand. “Fuck she sound hot whining like that.” Suguru turns you to face the window, lifting your legs giving Satoru standing in large window his office a perfect view.

“Cum!” Thick warm cum splashes into the window, trickling onto the ground. Trying to close your legs, shifting trying to get away from the intense stimulation.

Groaning in admiration, gliding two this fingers into you. “Nnn so warm n wet, perfect little cunt for my fat cock to ruin.” Taking the toy off your clit, tugging on the jewel of the butt plugged.

“You’ve been wearing this for two hours let’s give your ass a break. Mm fuck I can’t wait till I can fuck her into a gabbing cum filled mess.” Gliding the plug out of your ass, setting it on his desk.

Suguru crouches, slapping your ass biting your cheek, enticing soft whimpers. Holding onto your hip to steady you. Your head is fuzzy, legs wobbly, you haven’t cummed that hard before. You want more. “Wanna cum again, please sir take care of my needy cunt.” Spreading your legs, and bending over when he dips his head between, lovingly kissing your soft cunt.

Gliding his finger in, getting off on how your soft cunt take his fingers. “You been such a good slut for me, I’ll take such good care of your sweet tight cunt for you. After you can sit in my lap during the meeting. Then we can go home, have a candle lit dinner.” Biting your ass, sucking roughly groaning, pumping his finger faster.

Satoru’s breathy moans coming through the phone. His jerking his cock faster, sliding his hand through his soft white hair, tugging. His mouth dropping open, checks flushing pink. He slows his pace, smirking and winking at you. “You’re such a beautiful dirty whore getting off on watching me jerk off while he plays with your cunt.”

Smiling at Satoru, “I’m a pretty dirty whore who likes it getting fucked in front of you.” Suguru stands up, squeezing your ass, sliding his hand up your waist. Gently playing with your nipple, biting your shoulder. Tilting your head to the side, he trails kisses up

Satoru pleads “Let her press her beautiful slutty ass on the glass. Lemme see your sloppy beautiful cunt and sweet ass.” Looking up at Suguru for his approval, he spins you around on your high heels.

Unbuttoning his shirt, slipping it off. Suguru is beautiful with his thick pecs, sculpted abs, broad shoulders slim waist and fat cock that rests on thick balls. “Let him see what’s gonna be taking good care of my fat cock.” Admiring your sugar daddy, bending over gliding your fingers into your needy cunt.

You want to cum again despite squirting. Suguru and Satoru always bring out an insatiable lust within you. You’d proudly be their cum stuffed whore.

Buzzing the front desk, “Don’t send or allow any calls through until I say otherwise, take a message if it’s urgent thank you.” Pressing your ass to the cold glass, shivering. Playing with your nipples, soft rubbing them, moaning the moment he lets the button go.

Suguru groans, you love the erotic way he sounds. “Nnn fuck send her over when you’re done, I wanna turn. You can put her plug back in. Wanna see her pretty ass stuffed mmm, gonna cover her soft cheeks in cum.” Grabbing Suguru’s cock, when he comes close, kissing his head.

He grabs your hair roughly turning you around, pinning your tits to the glass, keeping your ass out. Lining his fat, veiny cock up, you spread your legs apart pushing your hips back. “If she can walk sure, but you can’t fuck her ass not yet. Im taking her training slow, no reason not to savor perfection.” Spitting on your ass, smearing it with his thumb, gliding it in.

Keeping a firm grasp on your ass, groaning in pure relief. “Nothing else better than being inside you. Nnn making my legs go weak, you’re too perfect.” Grabbing your wrist, holding it behind your back. Offering your other wrist for him to hold together with one large hand.

Oreo’s m.list

[skzophreniic]

⍣ ೋ cw: tease tease tease. explicit sexual content. unprotected sex. overstimulation. fingering. oral. breeding kink. daddy kink. manhandling. power play. degradation/praise. mdni.

notes: in which you read something about chan having a daddy kink on stayville and run with it.

The afternoon was one of those perfect, lazy ones—the kind where time barely mattered, and the world outside your little bubble felt distant. Rain drizzled against the windows, a soft, rhythmic hum, and Chris was warm against you, his body curled into yours on the couch. His hand rested on your thigh, his thumb rubbing gentle, absentminded circles as you both scrolled through your phones, comfortably lost in the quiet.

“Hey,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Chris glanced over at you, his gaze filled with something soft, something only meant for you. He squeezed your thigh lightly, his thumb lingering for a second longer. “Hey,” he murmured back, voice low and fond.

You don’t even hesitate. “Is it true you like being called ‘daddy’?”

The air shifted.

Chris stiffened slightly, the rhythmic tapping of his fingers against your side coming to an abrupt stop. His eyebrows knit together as his phone lowered, and he blinked at you. “Huh?”

You bit your lip, barely holding back a laugh at his reaction. “I mean, I keep seeing things online,” you continued, keeping your tone casual, even though you were fully enjoying this. “Stay seem really convinced that it’s, like… a thing for you.”

Chris just stared at you. Then, in one smooth motion, he locked his phone, placed it on the coffee table, and turned his full attention to you.

“Give me your phone.”

You gasp, clutching it to your chest. “Absolutely not.”

“Give. Me. Your. Phone.”

“You can’t stop me from knowing things, Christopher.”

He’s fast, snatching for your phone. You let out a yelp, trying to yank it away, but he was faster, snatching it clean from your grip. “What did I say about staying out of Stayville? It’s dangerous there.”

You shrug feigning innocence. “I was just scrolling, and it came up.”

“What exactly came up?” He squints at your screen, scrolling with exaggerated judgment.

You whine, reaching for it, but he holds it high above your head, his other arm locking you against his chest. “Chris! Give it back!”

He ignores you, still scrolling, his expression shifting from mild annoyance to absolute horror. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

You bit your lip, barely suppressing your laughter as he scrolled.

Chris ran a hand down his face, shaking his head. “Why are they like this?”

“Because you—” you poked his cheek, “—give them material.”

He caught your hand, holding it against his chest. “I do not.”

“You so do.”

Chris huffs, clearly exasperated but also too amused to fully commit to his indignation. “I literally just exist, and they make up the most unhinged things.”

You give him a pointed look. “Chris, baby… be so for real.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I—” He pauses, struggling. “Maybe I… give them some material.”

You grin triumphantly. “There it is.” You shift so you were leaning into him, your chin resting against his shoulder. "So, you're saying it's not true?"

His jaw twitches. He hesitated for just a fraction of a second too long, and that was all you needed.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, eyes widening in exaggerated delight. “It is true.”

Chris groaned again, dramatically flopping backward against the cushions. "It's not. I hate you."

"You love me," you corrected, poking his side until he squirmed. "And you also love being called—"

His hand clamped over your mouth before you could say it, his palm warm against your lips. "Don't." His eyes were dark, but his voice held that unmistakable lilt of warning.

You blinked up at him innocently, but the mischievous glint in your eyes betrayed you. You licked his palm.

Chris yelped, pulling his hand away like he'd been burned. "You animal."

You were cackling now, barely able to breathe through your laughter as he wiped his palm against your hoodie like you’d just infected him with some incurable disease.

"You're disgusting," he grumbled, but his lips were twitching.

"You love it."

"I tolerate it."

"You love it," you repeated, beaming at him. "And you definitely love being called—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Chris tackled you, rolling you beneath him on the couch, his hands pinning your wrists against the cushions. His nose was barely an inch from yours, his breath warm as he spoke. "Finish that sentence, and I swear—"

You blinked up at him, the challenge practically dripping from your smirk. "What? You’ll punish me?"

His eyes narrowed, but the way his lips twitched betrayed him. “Careful.”

“Oh no,” you gasped, feigning terror. “Are you gonna make me behave... Daddy?”

Chris groaned, letting his forehead thud dramatically against yours as a laugh bubbled out of him. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m your favorite,” you corrected, beaming up at him.

He huffed, though the way his gaze softened betrayed his amusement. “Unfortunately.”

______________________________________________________________

It started small.

A passing whisper in his ear when you walked by. A smug little smirk whenever you said his name just a little too sweetly.

An innocent stretch while calling out, "Daddy, can you pass me the remote?" like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Chris played it off the first few times. He’d roll his eyes, let out an exasperated sigh, and mutter, “You’re insufferable,” before going back to whatever he was doing.

But you saw it. The way his jaw would clench, how his fingers would flex like he was restraining himself. The flicker of something darker in his gaze that vanished as quickly as it came.

You weren’t dumb. You knew Chris. You knew that teasing him like this was playing with fire, especially because he was always so soft with you. You had him wrapped around your finger—he kissed the ground you walked on, always so patient, so gentle, even when you pushed him.

But patience had limits. And you were determined to find his.

You started pushing.

By now, you were convinced he was doing everything in his power to ignore it—to ignore you. But you saw through it.

You saw the way his jaw clenched every time you purred Daddy in that syrupy-sweet tone. You noticed how his fingers twitched when you batted your lashes at him, playing the role of the innocent little thing you so clearly weren’t. You caught the way his ears turned red when you leaned in too close, lips grazing his ear as you murmured, Thank you, Daddy—for the smallest things, like opening a jar or holding the door for you.

And yet, still, he hadn’t snapped.

So, you pushed harder.

One night, while sitting next to him at the dorm, you absentmindedly played with the chain around his neck, your fingers tracing the curve of his collarbone. The others were watching a movie.

Chris, ever the affectionate boyfriend, had one arm lazily draped over the couch behind you, his focus mostly on the screen—until you leaned in, lips barely brushing his ear.

"You’re so good to me, Daddy."

His entire body went rigid beside you.

A sharp inhale, a slight clench of his jaw—before, once again, he exhaled through his nose, choosing to ignore you.

You almost pouted.

But when you glanced up, you caught it—the flicker of something dark in his eyes before he blinked it away.

Oh, you were getting to him.

Later that night, as you lounged in bed, he propped himself up on one elbow, voice deceptively light. "You think you’re real cute, don’t you?"

You grinned, stretching languidly against the sheets. "I know I am."

Chris’ fingers traced slow, lazy circles against your hip. "You like testing me, huh?"

You hummed, shifting to face him, lips just shy of his. "What, you don’t like it?"

For a moment, you thought he might finally snap—but instead, he exhaled through his nose, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before rolling onto his back. "Goodnight, baby."

Disappointment.

You had expected him to at least call your bluff. Maybe flip you over, put you in your place. But no—he was still Chris, soft and loving, never pushing past what you allowed.

Still, it wasn’t enough.

So, you planned your final move carefully.

______________________________________________________________

Chris was tired. Not from work or the chaos of the boys—no, this exhaustion had a name.

You.

Weeks of teasing. A soft “Daddy” here, a sweetly smug smile there, and Chris held onto his patience with a white-knuckled grip. But you pushed—again and again. And he didn’t snap. Not yet.

He was at the studio with Changbin and Jisung, trying to focus when a knock interrupted. Jisung answered, revealing a delivery guy holding takeout bags.

“Uh... delivery for Daddy?” the guy announced, glancing at the receipt.

Silence.

Jisung and Changbin lost it, cackling while Chris stood frozen—expression dark, jaw clenched. Slowly, he took the bags. “Thanks,” he bit out, the door clicking shut.

Ignoring their laughter, Chris pulled out his phone and typed a message with deadly calm:

Be home by the time I get there. Do not make me come find you.

He pocketed his phone and left, tension coiled tight in his shoulders.

You weren’t home when he arrived. You could practically feel the moment his patience snapped, like a distant thunderclap on the horizon. But you didn’t rush. No, you dragged it out—lingering at a late-night café, scrolling through your phone with a smirk, ordering another drink just because you could. Chris wanted you home? Then home was the last place you’d be.

By the time you finally decided to return, it was late—far later than it should have been. The air outside was thick with the weight of your own defiance, every step toward your front door deliberate, measured.

You knew he was inside.

The apartment was eerily quiet when you pushed the door open, the usual hum of music or the soft murmur of the TV absent. Just silence. Heavy. Waiting.

You barely had time to set your keys down before you felt it—that unmistakable presence.

Chris sat in the dimly lit living room, sprawled on the couch like a king on his throne. One arm draped over the back, the other resting on his knee, fingers tapping a slow, deliberate rhythm. His eyes found you immediately, dark and unreadable. Not a single muscle moved, but the energy around him crackled.

“Baby,” you greeted, with a casual smile. “You waited up.”

Chris didn’t answer right away. He just watched. Studied. The air felt thick, suffocating in the silence.

And then—slowly, deliberately—he leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs, voice dangerously calm.

“Where were you?”

There it was. That quiet fury, simmering just beneath the surface.

You shrugged, toeing off your shoes. “Out.”

His tongue clicked against his teeth, his gaze unwavering. “Out.” A beat of silence. “You got my message.”

It wasn’t a question.

You swallowed, refusing to let the weight of his stare shake you. “I did.”

Chris exhaled through his nose, fingers flexing against his knees. Still eerily calm. Still watching. And yet, something about the way he held himself—the way his jaw ticked, the way his shoulders sat so unnaturally still—sent a prickle of unease down your spine.

“You do that on purpose?”

You took a step closer, tilting your head. “What if I did?”

Chris let out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it. He pushed off the couch, moving toward you with slow, measured steps. The closer he got, the smaller the space between you felt—until he was right there, close enough that his warmth seeped into your skin.

His fingers brushed your chin, tilting it up just enough to meet his gaze fully.

“You think this is funny?”

Your breath hitched. “Maybe a little.”

Chris hummed—a low, unimpressed sound that sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers lingered against your jaw, deceptively gentle, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. You could feel it there—your own heartbeat, hammering wildly beneath his touch, betraying the nonchalance you were so desperately trying to hold onto.

“Is that right?” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost thoughtful. “You think it’s funny to ignore me? To push me?”

Oh, you were in trouble.

The kind of trouble that made your stomach twist, that sent heat prickling down your spine, that made your pulse stutter when Chris’s thumb pressed just a little harder against the rapid thrum of your heartbeat.

You knew exactly what you were doing—poking at something primal, something restrained, something that you weren’t sure even Chris had fully let himself acknowledge.

And yet, even as he loomed over you now, eerily calm, his gaze dark and unreadable, you still pushed.

You smirked. “I think it’s fun.”

Chris exhaled sharply through his nose, like he was barely holding something back. His fingers traced along your jaw, slow, deliberate, before trailing lower—down the column of your throat, pressing just lightly enough that your breath caught, that your lips parted in an unspoken challenge.

“Fun,” he echoed, his voice a whisper of something dangerous.

You swallowed, and his eyes flickered down, watching the movement with quiet intensity. His hand lingered for a moment longer before he took a step back, putting space between you that somehow felt heavier than his touch.

Then, he smiled.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t warm. It was something else entirely—something that made your stomach flip, that sent heat curling low in your belly.

“Alright,” Chris murmured, his tone infuriatingly casual. “You wanna play?”

His hand fisted in your hair, dragging your head back as his mouth crushed against yours—no hesitation, no warmth, just teeth and frustration and the weight of every time you’d pushed him past his patience. His tongue shoved past your lips, licking deep, swallowing the soft gasp you barely had time to let out before he was pulling back, teeth catching your bottom lip and tugging, like he wanted to hurt just a little.

Then he let go.

Your scalp tingled from the force of his grip, your lips slick and tingling from his bite, but he didn’t give you a second to process before his hand was on your throat, pushing—not choking, just forcing you back, walking you blind toward the couch until the edge caught the backs of your knees. You wobbled, grabbing his forearm on instinct, but Chris didn’t stop. He kept pushing until you fell onto the cushions, then he was on you, knee pressing between your thighs, caging you in, his palm still firm on your neck.

“You think this is fun, huh?” His voice was quiet, but there was nothing soft about it. “Teasing me for weeks, acting all cute, saying shit you knew would get to me?” His knee pressed harder, not enough friction, just enough pressure to make you squirm. “Go on, baby. Laugh. Thought it was real fucking funny before.”

Your breath hitched. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the weight of his body so close but still not where you wanted him. You knew what he was doing. This wasn’t the usual game where he’d pretend to resist, where he’d give in after a little bit of teasing. No, he was making you sit in it now. Making you feel the consequences.

Chris leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice dropping even lower. “You wanted my attention. Now you’ve got it. What the fuck do you wanna do with it?”

You exhaled sharply, fingers flexing against his forearm. “Chris, I—”

His hand moved from your throat to your jaw, forcing your head back. His eyes were dark, pupils blown, but his expression was nothing like the soft, eager-to-please boyfriend you knew.

“Try again.”

You swallowed, pulse hammering beneath his fingers. This was new. With you, he was always patient, always indulgent, always so fucking soft. But this? This wasn’t soft. This was something else entirely.

“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat when he suddenly leaned in, lips just ghosting over yours.

“You what?” he murmured, his breath warm against your mouth, teasing, taunting. “Not feeling so mouthy anymore?”

Your fingers twitched against his forearm, nails digging in slightly. You knew better than to play dumb now. Knew you had pushed and pushed and pushed—until finally, you weren’t in control anymore.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to test him.

You wet your lips, your voice deliberately sweet. “I just wanted your attention, Daddy.”

Chris inhaled sharply through his nose. His grip shifted, fingers tilting your chin up higher, forcing you to hold his gaze. “Yeah?” he mused, his tone almost mocking. “That what you wanted?”

You nodded, batting your lashes. “Mhm.”

Chris’ jaw ticked, his fingers flexing—before suddenly, he let go.

For a second, you almost thought he was pulling away. That he was going to do what he always did—roll his eyes, kiss your forehead, and let you get away with it.

But then, his hand was at your throat again, pressing you back into the couch, pinning you there without so much as an ounce of effort.

“You want my attention?” His knee wedged between your thighs, spreading them wide, forcing you open. His other hand trailed down, fingertips barely brushing over your inner thigh—so close, but not close enough.

His lips curled as he pressed the barest hint of pressure between your legs, right where you needed him most. You exhaled shakily, hips twitching toward his touch.

Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “So desperate,” he murmured, almost fondly—before he pulled his hand away entirely.

You whined, arching toward him, but he tsked, pressing you back into the cushions.

“You’ve been running that pretty little mouth for weeks,” he mused, his thumb tracing along your lower lip, pressing in just slightly before dragging down your chin. “So fucking bratty, thinking you could do whatever you wanted and get away with it.” His eyes darkened, his voice dipping even lower. “What made you think I’d let you off easy, sweetheart?”

You shivered, swallowing hard. “I—”

Chris just smiled. “You thought I’d cave?” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Nah. Not tonight.”

His fingers trailed lower again, teasing, skimming along the edges of where you wanted him, never quite giving in. You whimpered, shifting against his knee, seeking friction.

Chris noticed.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, mockingly sweet. “What’s wrong?”

You glared at him, lips parted, breath uneven. “Chan—”

He tsked again, his grip tightening on your throat—not enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel it. “Wrong.”

You swallowed, cheeks flushing. “Daddy—”

“There she is,” Chris murmured, lips barely brushing yours.

You thought that was it—that he was finally going to give in. But then, he was shifting, pulling away again, dragging out the anticipation.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he continued, voice slow, deliberate. “You’re gonna sit right here, and you’re gonna take whatever I decide to give you.” His fingers traced along your inner thigh, featherlight, teasing. “And you’re not gonna come until I say.”

Your breath caught. “Chris—”

“Did I say you could speak?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, your thighs clenching involuntarily. Chris noticed that too. His smirk deepened.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” he mused, dragging his fingers higher, finally pressing them against your clothed heat, rubbing the softest, slowest circles. “You like when I tell you what to do?”

Your pulse thundered beneath his touch, but you forced a pout. “Maybe.”

Chris’s smirk was a slow, dangerous thing. “Maybe?” He pressed harder, just enough to make your hips twitch, to drag a broken whine from your lips. “Still got that attitude, huh?”

You wanted to fire back—something smart, something witty—but his fingers worked lazy, torturous circles, each drag and press igniting sparks of pleasure that made thinking impossible. The smirk didn’t fade as he watched you struggle, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“You wanted my attention,” Chris murmured, dipping his head to press his lips against your jaw—soft, teasing. A mockery of gentleness. “But you keep running your mouth. You think that’s a good idea?”

You whimpered, every nerve alight, but you managed a defiant little smirk. “I think you like it.”

Chris hummed, his mouth brushing your ear. “Oh, I do. I love it when you act out, princess. Just means I get to remind you who’s in charge.”

You opened your mouth to quip back, but his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down your thighs with a deliberate slowness that had you trembling. He didn’t even look—eyes locked on yours, dark and taunting—as he shoved them aside, baring you to his gaze.

“Let’s see how long that attitude lasts,” Chris drawled, sinking to his knees.

He hooked your thighs over his shoulders, strong hands splaying possessively across your hips. His breath was hot against your bare skin, lips trailing lazy kisses up your inner thigh. Every inch of contact had your breath quickening, your resolve fraying. You tried to wriggle closer, but his grip tightened, pinning you in place.

“Impatient,” he chided, his tongue tracing a slow, maddening path closer—so close. “Thought you liked games, baby.”

A strangled whimper slipped from your lips, thighs quivering where Chris held you pinned. The wicked, taunting curve of his mouth made your pulse jump—anticipation coiling hot and tight in your stomach.

“You talk a big game, sweetheart,” he murmured, breath feathering over the most sensitive part of you. “But look at you now—already falling apart and I haven’t even touched you properly.”

Your hips twitched, the barest grind against his mouth, but his grip tightened, fingers digging into your thighs just hard enough to sting. A warning.

“Ah, ah,” Chris tutted, squeezing until you stilled. “You’ve had weeks to run your mouth. Now, you’re gonna stay still and be good for me, yeah?”

The teasing lilt of his voice sent heat prickling along your skin, a shiver rippling down your spine. You wanted to argue, but the words caught in your throat as his tongue traced a slow, teasing circle around where you needed him most.

The soft, wet heat of his mouth was a shock, a lightning bolt of sensation that had your head falling back, a choked moan spilling free. Chris hummed against you, the vibration a taunt of its own, lips curling into a smirk that you could feel more than see.

“Fuck, baby,” he drawled, fingers pressing bruises into your skin. “You’re already dripping. This what you wanted? Attention from Daddy?”

“Y-Yes,” you gasped, fingers curling into the couch cushions as he licked another slow, deliberate stripe.

Chris’s tongue flicked over you again—slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to unravel you bit by bit. Your hands scrabbled for purchase, nails biting into the cushions as your hips twitched, desperate for more.

But just as you started to grind against his mouth, a sharp smack echoed through the room, pain blossoming between your thighs. You cried out, hips jerking back in shock, but his hands held you firm—pinned and helpless beneath his unyielding grip.

Chris looked up at you with a raised brow, eyes dark and unrelenting. “Did I tell you to move?”

You whimpered, the sting lingering, and tried to catch your breath. “N-No, Daddy—”

Another slap—sharper this time—landed on your swollen, slick folds, sending a shudder through your whole body. Tears pricked your eyes, but the heat pooling in your stomach only grew, arousal mingling with the ache.

“That’s right,” he muttered, tone low and warning. “You’re gonna stay fucking still unless I tell you otherwise. Got it?”

You nodded, lip trembling, but Chris wasn’t satisfied. His hand tightened on your thigh, fingers digging in just enough to make you squirm. “Use your words, princess,” he demanded, voice rough and unforgiving.

“Yes, Daddy,” you managed to choke out, voice barely above a whisper.

He hummed in approval, pressing a brief, almost gentle kiss to your inner thigh before his mouth returned to you—hot and wet, tongue flicking over your swollen clit with deliberate, calculated precision. Your body arched instinctively, desperate for more, but you forced yourself to stay still, the threat of his hand still tingling through your skin.

“That’s better,” he muttered between slow, lazy licks, his breath searing against your oversensitive nerves. “Such a pretty little thing when you’re behaving.”

Your whole body burned under the praise, the contrast between his harsh treatment and his soft words leaving you dizzy. You were barely holding it together, every flick of his tongue making your hips twitch despite your best efforts to obey.

Chris’s tongue never slowed.

Each flick over your clit sent sparks racing through your nerves, making your thighs tremble where he held them apart. You wanted to move—had to move—but his grip was unforgiving, fingers digging into your skin like a silent warning.

“Such a needy little thing,” he murmured against your skin, breath hot and mocking. “Spent all that time teasing me, and now look at you.”

You whimpered, back arching when his tongue flattened against your clit, pressing hard before dragging down to your entrance. He licked into you, slow and deliberate, groaning like he was the one getting wrecked.

“Taste so fucking good,” Chris muttered, voice muffled by the way he buried himself between your legs. “So wet for me. Bet you’d let me do anything to you right now, huh?”

You nodded frantically, breath coming in sharp gasps. You were already on edge, already burning—weeks of teasing, of pushing him, finally catching up to you in the most devastating way.

Chris pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips slick, chin shining with your arousal. “Use your words, princess.”

“Anything, Daddy,” you gasped. “A-anything–fuck–”

Chris hummed, pleased, before diving back in. His tongue was relentless, licking into you with obscene noises, lapping at every drop you gave him. And when his fingers joined—two thick digits pressing inside without warning—you nearly sobbed.

“Oh, baby.” His voice was low, taunting. “Haven’t touched you in a while, have I? You’re so tight.” His fingers curled, pressing just right, and your whole body jolted. “How do you think you’re gonna take my cock?”

You clenched around him, and Chris laughed.

“Yeah? That what you want?” His fingers pumped deeper, stretching you open, teasing that one spot that made your vision blur. “Want Daddy to fill you up? Make you take every drop?”

Your body was too hot, too tight—you couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but nod and whimper. Chris didn’t like that.

He smacked your thigh, sharp enough to sting. “Words.”

“Yes! Yes, Daddy, I—” Your voice caught as he crooked his fingers, fucking them into you with ruthless precision. “Want you to come inside me, please—please—”

Chris groaned, low and dark. “That’s my girl.”

Your orgasm slammed into you before you could even brace for it, pleasure surging through you in dizzying waves. Your thighs trembled, hands fisting the cushions, body locking up as you came with a broken moan.

But he didn’t stop.

Not for a second.

His fingers kept thrusting, his tongue kept flicking, dragging you through it—and right into another.

“Ngnn—Chri–daddy—fuck, I—” Your voice was broken, wrecked, your body barely able to keep up with the relentless pleasure tearing through you.

Chris just smirked. “Oh, baby,” he cooed, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Too much?”

You nodded frantically, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, your body twitching and jerking beneath him.

He hummed, fingers fucking into you harder. “Nah,” he murmured, low and smug. “You can take more.”

Your second orgasm hit before you could even process his words. Your entire body locked up, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. Chris groaned against you, tongue lapping up every bit of your release like he needed it, his fingers fucking you through the brutal aftershocks.

Still, he didn’t stop.

Your body thrashed, your hands pushing weakly at his shoulders, but Chris was stronger, more determined, his grip unrelenting.

“Look at you,” he murmured against your soaked folds, voice dark and filled with something dangerous. His fingers slowed, but only slightly, pressing deep, grinding against that sweet spot inside you. His tongue flicked over your oversensitive clit, teasing, taunting.

“You wanted my attention,” he mused, watching the way your body twitched beneath him, the way your thighs trembled, barely able to stay open. “Now you’ve got it.”

You sobbed, your whole body shuddering, overstimulation tearing through you like fire. “Daddy—please—”

Chris groaned, his cock straining painfully against his sweatpants. “Shit, baby,” he muttered, voice strained. “You crying?” His fingers traced over the wet tracks down your cheeks, eyes darkening. “That good, huh?”

You could barely think, barely breathe—and Chris looked like he was barely holding himself together.

It hit you like a thunderclap—shattering, consuming, a pleasure so intense it almost hurt. Chris groaned, lapping up every drop, working you through it even as you trembled beneath him.

Only then did he pull away, lips slick and curved into something dark and satisfied. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, gaze locked on your wrecked form—your twitching thighs, your heaving chest, the way your body still shook from the aftershocks.

“Look at you,” he mused, dragging his hands up your legs. “So fucking messy already. And we’re just getting started.”

You barely had a second to breathe before he was tugging his shirt over his head, muscles flexing in the dim light. He undid his belt slowly, deliberately, watching the way your eyes followed the movement with rapt attention.

Chris chuckled. “That desperate for my cock, huh?”

You whimpered, nodding, your thighs still trembling.

Chris reached out, his hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. His pupils were blown, his expression something raw and hungry.

“You wanted Daddy’s attention?” he murmured, leaning in, lips brushing yours but not quite touching. “Now you’re gonna take everything I give you.”

Your breath hitched. “Please.”

Chris groaned, his forehead dropping against yours for a beat. Then, his fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you as deep as I want.” His voice was low, almost dangerous. “Gonna let me fill you up—fuck my come so deep you’ll still be dripping with it in the morning.”

Your whole body shuddered.

You nodded frantically, every nerve in your body on fire. “Yes, Daddy, please—”

He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, fisting your hair as he dragged your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, blown wide with lust, his jaw clenched tight.

Chris smirked, sensing your reaction. He reached between you, stroking himself slow, teasing. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He tapped his cock against your swollen clit, making you jolt. “Gonna take me like a good little breeding toy?”

You nearly whimpered. “Yes—yes, Daddy—”

Chris didn’t give you a chance to brace. He pushed inside in one long, slow thrust, stretching you open around his cock.

Your back arched. The stretch was unbearable, too much, even with all the prep, but Chris just groaned, pressing deeper, inch by inch, watching your face contort with pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, pressing a hand to your lower belly. “Feel that? Feel how deep Daddy is?”

You did. He was there, pressing into something devastating, making your walls flutter around him.

Chris cursed, his hand squeezing your waist before he snapped his hips forward.

You cried out.

Chris groaned, watching the way you took him, how your body clenched and trembled. “Fuck, look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with something dangerously close to affection. “So fucking good for me, baby.”

His thrusts picked up—hard, relentless, brutal. Your body rocked beneath him, every drag of his cock sending another sharp spike of pleasure through your nerves.

Chris’s grip tightened, his breath ragged. “You’re gonna take every drop, sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so full, gonna make sure it sticks.”

A wrecked sob left your lips, your hips rolling back instinctively, desperate. “Want it—please, Daddy, I—”

Chris groaned, slamming his cock inside in one deep, brutal thrust.

Your mouth fell open, your fingers digging into the sheets, pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain. Chris didn’t stop. He set a relentless pace, fucking into you deep, his hands gripping your waist so tight you were sure you’d feel it tomorrow.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, watching the way your body took him, watching how your slick coated his cock every time he pulled out. “You were made for this, you know that?” His fingers slid to your stomach, pressing down, making you feel every inch of him inside you. “Made to take my cock—made to be bred.”

You clenched around him, and Chris groaned, his thrusts turning rougher, more desperate. His fingers slid lower, rubbing your swollen clit, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

“You’d look so fucking pretty, baby,” he murmured, his pace never faltering. “So round, so full of me.” He pushed in deeper, making sure you felt every inch, making sure you knew exactly what he wanted. “Gonna keep you like this, keep you stuffed with my come, fuck you full every night until you’re dripping—”

The words sent you spiraling. Your whole body locked up, pleasure crashing into you so fast, so intense, you could barely breathe. Your walls clenched around him, milking his cock, your release spilling down your thighs, making a mess between you.

Chris groaned, shoving himself as deep as he could go, holding himself there, letting you ride out the aftershocks. His fingers dug into your hips, his cock throbbing inside you, so fucking close, so desperate.

And then he was flipping you over again, manhandling you like you weighed nothing, pinning you beneath him.

“You’re not done yet, baby,” he murmured, gripping his cock, rubbing the tip through your soaked folds, smearing your release everywhere. “I’m not done.”

You barely had a second to brace yourself before he was pushing back inside, slow and deep, stretching you all over again. You mewled, pleasure so overwhelming it bordered on too much—but Chris just cooed, brushing your hair back, pressing soft kisses to your jaw.

“You can take it, princess,” he whispered, rolling his hips, grinding so deep it made you see stars. “Gonna fill you up, yeah? Gonna fuck my come so deep it stays inside you?”

You whined, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. “Please—”

Chris groaned, something wrecked and raw, his thrusts turning messy, erratic. “Yeah? Want Daddy to fill you up? Want me to breed this pretty little pussy?”

Your entire body clenched, and Chris cursed, his cock pulsing inside you, right on the edge.

“Fuck—” His forehead dropped to yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Gonna come inside you, baby. Gonna make you mine.”

His hips snapped forward, his grip tightening—and then he was gone, his whole body tensing as he came with a wrecked moan, spilling inside you, so deep, so much. His cock throbbed, thick ropes of come filling you, making you feel impossibly full.

For a moment, all you could do was exist in it—the heat, the weight of him, the unbearable fullness that made you feel stretched, stuffed, ruined. Chris groaned low, his body twitching against yours as he gave you everything, pushing himself as deep as he could go, holding himself there like he could carve himself into you, like he could make it stay.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasped, voice thick and wrecked, forehead pressing against yours. His breath fanned across your lips, his nose brushing against yours as he swallowed hard. “Took me so fucking well. So perfect.”

You barely had the strength to answer, your body too wrung out, too wrecked from the relentless waves of pleasure. Your walls clenched weakly around him, still pulsing, still trembling, and Chris groaned, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.

Then, slowly—reluctantly—he pulled out, hissing at the way your walls fluttered around him, still desperate to keep him inside. A wrecked sound left him when he saw the mess between your legs, his come already spilling out of you, sliding down the curve of your ass, pooling onto the sheets.

His jaw tightened. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding them open as he watched the way you leaked, completely spent, completely his.

“Shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his damp curls. “Look at that.”

You barely had the strength to move, your thighs still shaking, your mind hazy, floating somewhere between exhaustion and bliss. Chris kissed your temple, whispering something you couldn’t quite make out, something sweet and soothing as he gently eased you onto your side, gathering you up into his arms. His hands rubbed up and down your back, slow, tender, the complete opposite of how he’d just been fucking you.

“Deep breaths, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing over your sweaty forehead. “There you go. You with me?”

You made a small noise, barely more than a whimper, pressing your face into his chest. Chris chuckled, though it was quiet, full of warmth.

“Too fucked out to talk?” he teased, his fingers slipping into your hair, massaging at your scalp. “My poor baby.”

You whined, and he cooed, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your cheeks, every bit of skin he could reach. “S’too much,” you mumbled, voice slurred, wrecked.

Chris grinned against your cheek, his hand smoothing down your back. “You love it,” he whispered, nuzzling against you. “Love being full of me, don’t you?”

You whimpered, your body shivering despite the warmth of his embrace. Chris hummed, something dark and pleased curling in his chest. His fingers trailed down, over your stomach, rubbing softly, soothingly. He groaned, knowing his come was still inside you, knowing how full you must feel.

“Good,” he whispered, pressing another soft kiss to your shoulder. “So good for me, princess.”

"Let me clean you up," he murmured after a moment, shifting like he was about to move.

But as soon as he tried to pull away, you whimpered, clutching at him weakly. Chris immediately stopped, his expression softening. "Oh, baby," he crooned, kissing the bridge of your nose. "You want Daddy to hold you, huh?"

You nodded, too exhausted for words.

His arms tightened around you, pressing you fully against him. "Okay, sweetheart," he whispered, tucking the blanket over both of you. "M'not going anywhere."

He kissed your temple, his fingers still trailing up and down your skin, featherlight, absentminded.

“So pretty,” he murmured, his voice thick with something soft, something impossibly tender. “My pretty girl.”

You sighed, barely conscious, barely awake, and Chris chuckled, shifting just enough to reach for the wet wipes on the nightstand. He moved carefully, gently, wiping away the mess between your thighs, murmuring quiet reassurances against your skin.

But when he pulled back, his gaze landed on your entrance again—still puffy, still stretched from him, still leaking his come despite how much he’d given you.

Chris groaned, his jaw clenching, something dark flickering behind his softened gaze.

“Fuck,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. He was trying—really trying—to let it go. To let you rest.

But then his fingers were there, brushing over your swollen folds, pushing in just enough to spread the mess, to watch the way your body twitched in response. You whimpered, barely coherent, shifting weakly beneath him.

Chris exhaled sharply.

“Gotta make sure it stays, baby,” he murmured, almost apologetic, pressing two fingers inside, slow, deep, watching the way your walls fluttered around them, sucking them in, so perfectly pliant.

You whimpered, half-asleep, but didn’t stop him.

Chris swallowed hard, his cock twitching all over again.

Maybe he’d have to make sure again in the morning.

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: 'Intense Desire' ༄࿔ L.F.

⤷ Sex Pills | Overstimulation | Squirting

♱ word count: 2.9k

♱ warnings: fem!reader, sex pills usage (felix accidentally taking them), mention of a handjob in a car, he gets “mean” for like a split second, unprotected p in v, rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampies, squirting, if u quint theres 1 sentence of angst at the end, i might be forgetting something

♱ notes: sorry this was delayed! I made it a little longer than the others in hopes that it would make up for the tardiness <3 also 1 the beginning might feel rushed (it was) and 2 sex pills dont completely work like this?? But its fiction so.. pls bare with me im so stressed out LMFAO

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

The pounding in Felix’s head was just enough to distract him from the colorful clothes around the two of you. The initially exciting shopping trip to the mall with your boyfriend had quickly slowed down thanks to the headache he developed out of the blue. Your comforting words and warm hands on his face only helped so much, and he felt horrible for his body refusing to let him enjoy your date.

It wasn’t until you reminded him of the medicines he had packed away in his bag that he let up on his pouting Then, with the familiar feeling of the plastic of a pill bottle on his fingers and a gentle reminder from you that this should be fun for the both of you, Felix finds himself leading you to the food court. He quickly buys a bottle of water and chugs down 3 pills. It’s over the dosage of 2 he normally would take, but he’s desperate to have a good time with you.

Not long after, he’s back to his normal self and the thumping pain in his head is long gone. Wide smiles and crescent eyes watch you pick out interesting clothes, some even meant to match with him. Everything is back to normal!

That is until 30 minutes after the fact when he’s patiently sitting outside of your changing room waiting for you to try on the next outfit. He starts to feel a new, less painful ache. One between his legs that he’s all too familiar with.

Literal lines of sweat are dripping down his forehead and his neck when you open the curtain to present the outfit you picked out. He forces a smile and has to tear his eyes away from the tight pants to give his opinion. A curt, breathy, “Beautiful.”

The sweat immediately catches your attention and obviously raises concerns from the way your eyebrows furrow. He notices right away and tries not to let it worry you, shooing you away and encouraging you to try on the last pieces of fabric that await you in the changing room.

The second the curtains close behind you he racks his brain for possible reasons as to why a sudden, strong feeling of horniness took over his body. It’s even to the point where his whole body tingles from the ceiling fans above him. The slow gusts of wind make his cock ache in his jeans and goosebumps litter his arms.

He doesn’t think he’s ever gotten this horny in his life. Even the time when you managed to rile him up to the point where he almost came in his jeans when you brushed past him he had never felt this way. He swore he could feel his veins burning as he looked through his bag for his phone, praying that Google would explain everything.

But he doesn’t get far enough to grab his phone, because the realization hits him like a tsunami wave. The pills. He realizes too late that he never checked which medicine he took. And sure enough, when he checked his bag, the tiny plastic bottle he had a hold on earlier wasn’t his Ibuprofen.

Instead, it was a blue pill bottle that he kept for special medicines that he would occasionally get prescribed. This time around, it was the brand new, not prescribed pills he had put to the side for… intimacy reasons.

It was embarrassing at first for him. A young, attractive man in his 20s struggling with his sex life. All thanks to the wear and tear from work stress: the unforgiving cycle of working too much and being overwhelmed, then taking a break and working too little just to fall behind.

You understood! It’s understandable to not be able to get hard when there’s a never ending dread that has made home in the back of your mind. And it was clearly obvious that he is attracted to you, every other time the two of you were intimate is enough evidence for that.

So you offered him an idea that might help! That idea being “horny” pills. It took some convincing and consistent reassurance for him to cave and agree. Which led to that little blue bottle of little red pills that made his not-so-little friend crave your attention.

“Lixie?” Your voice snaps him out of his daydreaming and his head snaps up to see your head poking out of the curtain. Your giggle goes straight to his dick and he has to force a smile to get through the ache. “I need your help with this dress. I can’t get the zipper up.”

You don’t need to ask twice, especially when the promise of getting to see your bare skin is on the table. He’s joining you in the blink of an eye, using his clammy, shaky hands to zip up the dress the rest of the way. Your body flushes at the way he licks his lips as he looks you up and down multiple times.

“Do you like it?” His eyes snap up to yours in the mirror and he nods. It’s pretty obvious to you what’s going on in his head at this point, minus the reason for it, so you rip the dress off and rush to the cashier as fast as you can.

Felix is on your tail the whole time. A hand on your hip and his chest pressed to your back as he shoves his credit card into the card reader. Then again when the two of you get to the car, this time both of his hands on your hips and his face shoved into your neck.

“Need you so fucking bad.” His hard-on is even more obvious now as he grinds it against your thigh, groaning and whining into your neck about how good it feels. You struggle to get the car keys out of his pocket when his hands are all over you, making you feel good when they aren’t even doing much.

“Felix… Not here.” The two of you drabbled in public sex before so it wasn’t a new experience for either of you. But it had been a while since the two of you were intimate so you really didn’t want it to be in the dirty car garage of a mall. In the middle of the day, mind you.

“I need something. Baby, please. I-I can’t do this.” The desperation in his voice is enough to make your neck whip around, almost knocking into his as you look back at him with confusion. He knows you all too well and the answer to your unspoken question is already on the tip of his tongue.

“I accidentally took those sex pills instead of pain meds.” He doesn’t bother explaining further; he doesn’t care anymore. The only thing that’s on his mind is getting you into the car so he can get some sort of stimulation on his poor, achy cock.

You're lucky to even have gotten his hands off of you after that, let alone getting him in the passenger seat and buckled in without him launching at you. However you’re even less lucky as you drive him home, one hand on the wheel and the other- well, on his dick.

You could hear the wetness of him jerking himself off before you saw it. He was keen to get your help though. His eyes were teary and his voice came out a distressed whine as he pleaded for you to help, complaining that his hand wasn’t comparable to how good your hand would feel.

The windows on your shared car are as tinted as legally possible, so you quickly cave and slide your hand toward him. Now 5 minutes away from the house, you quicken your hands in hopes that he’ll cum this soon. But luck isn’t on either of your sides today and the car’s already in park before he’s even close to cumming.

You don’t make it past the entryway before Felix is shoving you forward, pinning you to the wall, and pulling your bottoms to your knees. The sight of your panties all messy and your pussy lips equally as messy from your excitement is enough to make him feral.

“You’re so good to me, Honey. Always so obedient and keeping my pussy ready for me when I most need it. I’m going to give you the world and more.” He doesn’t wait for you to make a comment before he’s pushing your underwear to join your bottoms.

One hand rests on the wall by your face and the other pushes against your lower back, arching your back at the same time that he pushes his cock in. Your walls are warm and wet as they take every last inch of him in, almost as if two puzzle pieces were finally placed together.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and he sucks on your neck, whispering incoherent mumbles until he’s bottomed out. He only stops then to take deep breaths and calm his own body down. Now that he’s finally inside of you, the effects of the pills feel a million times stronger.

He genuinely feels like a dog in heat, hips still rutting into yours even as his mind tells his body to relax. It doesn’t listen in the slightest and after a short pause his hips are finding a rigorous rhythm. 

Felix is a man possessed behind you; nails digging into your skin leaving bruises to come and hips moving with more force than you thought he could give. It’s hard to think he’s not possessed with his filthy mouth, something he’s always been good at but it hits differently when he’s rock hard inside of you and eager to feel every inch of your body all at once.

You start to feel like the pills are affecting you. Your own body reacts to his fervent movements with warm clenches and moans that spur him on. You feel so sensitive and your orgasm sneaks up on you, causing you to wiggle in his hold. The shuffle of your limbs makes him lose his angle and you both whine.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. Stop. You gotta stay arched, baby. Yeah, just like that. Ffuck…” The hand on your back pushes you forward, completely squishing you against the wall as he tries to arch you back to how you previously were. He knows that he did it right when you start to flutter around him again and your moans ascend a few pitches.

With the other hand using all of his fingers to rub your clit back and forth, he pushes you over the edge. You clench around him as you moan into the wall, your arms shaking as you try to hold yourself up against it. He growls against your ear and bites down on it as he continues fucking you through your high.

He doesn’t stop after you’re done. If anything it only encourages him, the ache in his veins telling him that he needs to keep going and make you feel even better. And so he does, with one hand still furiously rubbing your clit back and forth while the other now moves to your waist and holds up your slouching form.

It just squeezes you appreciatively, almost even possessively as he holds you in place when you start to flail. It doesn’t become mean until in the midst of your thrashing, you move yourself just slightly to the point where he loses his angle again. He pushes his hand roughly against you and arches your back himself again, this time with a disgruntled snap. 

“Stop fucking doing that.” He’s huffing into your ear as his hips pick up pace, going even faster than he was before. “Be good or else I’ll bend you over with nothing to lean on.” But it’s hard to control your body when painful pleasure is swimming through your body. Even more so when you feel another orgasm lurking.

“B-Baby, fuck! Give me a sec, you’re-” You cut yourself off with a shriek as the hand on your waist moves to tangle itself in your hair. It uses the grip to pull you back up to rest your back flat against his chest. His other hand finally falters at this point, instead of rubbing your clit it sinks into your thigh.

“I’m what, Honey. Tearing up your guts?” He laughs out a sound of agreement that turns into a guttural groan as his blinding thrusts finally let up. A few sharp thrusts and a series of moans fall from his lips as he empties himself out inside of you. It feels like gallons of his seed are filling your stomach, and the feeling of it leaking out onto your inner thighs is enough to make you believe that’s the case.

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. He just stands there with his forehead against your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your torso, mind reeling as he comes down from such an intense high.

“Baby. You didn’t cum with me at the end, did you?” He’s more upset that he faltered that badly, but the twitch of his cock lets you both know that he’s not close to being done regardless. The question is a real testament to your faith. Lie to him and maybe bribe him to let you take a break, or tell the truth and deal with the consequences. Though, it doesn’t seem like he was asking.

He pulls out and moves his hand to the small of your back. Neither of you even spared a glance at your bottoms as you’re dragged to the living room and shoved into the couch. It knocks the breath from your lungs momentarily, and it’s all the time he needs to bend you to his will. Your shoulders sink into the bottom cushions and your legs are hovering just above you as he shoves his cock inside of you again. 

The breath is almost knocked from you again as he finds a new, rougher pace to follow. This one isn’t nearly as fast but the new angle, thanks to your ankles being by his ears, sends him right where he wants to be. His previous load froths along his length as he fucks into you like your lives are on the line. 

Your hands find home on his biceps and your nails leave deep crescent shapes along his skin as you desperately try to find something to ground yourself with. The new vigor he fucks you with makes it so that your next orgasm builds up within a minute or two. The feral stare from his lidded eyes only makes your stomach squeeze as you realize that he really has no plans to stop, even if he really wants to. 

“Felix, baby, s-slow down. It feels w-weird.” You push against his stomach in hopes that it will slow him down, but it doesn’t. He stays quiet and only responds by grabbing your wrist and shoving it into the cushion by your head; a wordless command for ‘Hands off.’ You look up just in time to see his gaze grow more intense.

He even leans forward, both of his hands moving to your thighs to fold them into your chest. His hips pick up speed once he has you folded to his liking and you find that strange feeling growing stronger. You get a glimpse of him licking his pink lips that then perk up into a menacing smile and then the feeling grows too strong, forcing your eyes closed and your legs to combat his hold.

Your body can only shake as you gush around him and he curses under his breath at the sight. Your cunt spams around him and you squirt through his merciless fucking. The wet, squelching noises combat the volume of your cries to the point where he periodically goes out of his way to thrust into you even rougher just to hear it more.

“You hear her talking to me? Fucking shit- She really liked that, huh baby?” He laughs in disbelief and slams into you repeatedly, chasing his own sudden orgasm from watching you cum so intensely.

“That was so fucking hot, Baby.” The whine in his voice doesn’t match the cocky look on his face, but you can’t be bothered to comment about it as he finishes inside of you all of a sudden. Your sensitive walls constrict around him yet again and he cums deep inside, riding his own orgasm out to the sound of your overwhelmed sobs.

His chest heaves as he catches his breath and he takes the moment to glance at a clock on the wall. It’s been a few hours since he took the pills so they should be going down soon. He can already feel his brain going back to normal, and his thoughts are clearing up as the two of you sit there unmoving.

“You… Are you ok, Honey?” Your sniffles are enough to make his heart drop into his ass, but when you look up at him the anxiety leaves his body. You smile at him through the tears and laugh as best as you can while still breathless.

“Holy shit, Felix.” He matches your chuckle and leans forward, slotting your legs on either side of his waist as he repeatedly pushes his lips against your cheek. “I’m… great. But you owe me for fucking me within an inch of my life like that with no warning.”

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess

@dreamingaboutjisung @everythingboutkpop @velvetmoonlght @4l17h4

@felixsangelicfreckles

[dollyyun]

VIDEO CALL ✧ L.HS

SYNOPSIS ✧ you’ve been missing your boyfriend a little too much, yearning him to return to your arms, but you need him more than ever. seeing how desperately you crave him, he offers a solution that eventually leads to the two of you having video sex.

PAIRING ✧ idol bf!heeseung x fem reader GENRE ✧ idol au, soft and sappy in the beginning, fluffs, soft love, loverboy heeseung, little (none) plot, heeseung is in love WARNINGS ✧ reader whines a lot, reader is so fucking needy (i know i am), video call sex, masturbations, fingering, clit stimulation, mild degradation, uses of dildo, orgasms, dirty talks, praise kink, daddy kink, idk what else WORD COUNT✧ 9.4K

A/N ✧ idk how to write a good video call smut (or a good smut in general) but idc bc i HAD to get this out of my system and i enjoyed writing it since i’ve been going insane in oomf’s dm about this weverse live heeseung specifically. oomf told me how i was really down bad for this heeseung and the way he made me so needy for him plsplspls I NEED HIM SO BAD IT ACHES- anyways, this was supposed to be a drabble but i got carried away. enjoy this light and fun fic :3 or don’t.

NEXT PART | SERIES MASTERLIST

The thumping of your heart amplifies as soon as his handsome face appears on your phone screen. His hair looks slightly dishevelled, and he is still adorned in the same sweater he was wearing three hours ago when he was doing a Weverse live. God, he looks so good. But a frown slowly pulls at the corners of your lips as you notice a fleeting somnolence in the weight of his hanging eyelids. 

“Hey, baby.” Heeseung greets you affectionately while your heart flutters at the boyish grin on his face, but his raw, husky timbre sends the familiar signals to your throbbing clit that has been yearning for his touch. You squeeze your thighs together, suppressing the arousal that throbs unrelentingly in your bundle of nerves.

“Hi.” You reciprocate shyly with a small smile, your soft voice a mellow to his ears. His eyes darken, narrowing slightly at your bottom lip being tucked in between your teeth, prompting him to stifle a groan while his cock beneath the slacks hardened at the harmless action. Shit, not now. He mentally scolds his own cock. But God, he so badly wants to kiss your lips.

Oblivious to his struggle, you feel the guilt tugging at your heartstrings as you know that he must’ve been asleep before this, considering the timezone he is currently at, whereas it is still early for you to call it a night.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” You ask, your eyes turning crestfallen. You never want to be a clingy girlfriend, nor do you want to disappoint Heeseung in any way because you are aware of how much he appreciates you for being incredibly understanding of this aspect of his career, but this time, you couldn’t hold back any longer, needing him more than ever despite video calling him just yesterday.

Heeseung chuckles breathily as he runs his fingers through his hair, the sound being enough to make the butterflies swarm in your tummy. “Nah, you didn’t. I wasn’t even sleeping.” His attempt at reassuring you fails when he tries to stifle a yawn.

“You’re a bad liar.” You remark, eyeing him disapprovingly while the guilt is twisting painfully at your heartstrings. Maybe you shouldn’t have disturbed your boyfriend and allowed him to have some time of his own, considering he had to perform for the tour concert for two constructive days.

But little do you know that there is an entirely different reason why he looks a tad weary — he was jerking off to every deliciously sinful thought of the things he wanted to do to you before he took a nap — but you didn’t need to know that. Besides, despite being in a relationship for three years, the two of you have never once crossed the boundaries of being that level of sensual intimacy. Sure, he had sex with you every so often whenever he wasn’t needed at his line of work, but there has always been this unspoken boundary that the two of you never dared to cross for some reason. Maybe it has to do with you being incredibly shy when it comes to being more upfront about such salacious matters.

“Well, I couldn’t just ignore an incoming call from my gorgeous girl.” Heeseung casts you a smirk, knowing that you get all shy whenever he praises you, to which you always cover up with a rather cutieful scowl in his eyes. His features slowly soften as he seems to examine you, his eyes practically sparkling with a familiar adoration. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

You automatically scrunch up your nose, feeling dubious over his ever-flattering compliment. “What are you talking about? I’m only wearing my comfy home clothes.” You say as you look down at your attire. You’re only sporting a hoodie, his hoodie specifically, and elastic waistband shorts that reach way above your thighs. 

“I’m not talking about your clothes, baby. It’s your face. God, if only I get to wake up to this view every day.” You swear you are about to combust from his excessive compliments, and it doesn’t help that he is looking at you as though you are his whole universe. “I mean it when I say you look really beautiful. How did I ever get so lucky to have you in my life?”

“You’re being weirdly cheesy, Hee.” You huff, feigning indifference as you try to tame the butterflies swarming in your tummy, and yet you know that your boyfriend loves to shower you with compliments and affections, but this time, something feels different in the way he gazes at you. “Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” He drawls playfully while adjusting to a different position that looks like he is resting his back against the headboard of the bed, one hand placed at the back of his head. “Just looking at your beautiful face is enough to make me feel drunk, and that’s saying a lot about you. My gorgeous girl.”

The warmth in your cheeks travels down to your neck. “Stop it, Hee.” You shoot him another scowl, a pathetic attempt that fails to tame the flutters all over you. 

“Oh, so I can’t compliment my girlfriend now?” He scoffs, his eyebrow raising just slightly before a pout slowly forms on his very kissable lips.

“Don’t pout. It’s not a good look on you at your grown age.” You tease him, breaking the character from your collected facade. You always did like being the one to tease him on rare occasions since he’s the one who does most of the teasing in your relationship.

“I can’t believe my girlfriend insulted me just when I was about to tell her I missed her.” He complains exasperatedly, but you overlook his usual theatrics as his last three words strike a chord deep inside of you. He continues to pout, oblivious to your silence of melancholy. “I’m hurt, sweetheart.”

“You missed me?” You finally ask quietly after a couple beats of silence, your tone sounding as though you are in disbelief that your own boyfriend, the guy who completely adores you, missed you. But this time, it hits differently and deeper that renders you out of breath for a moment.

Any playful mischief or humour dissipates from his countenance while his features soften. “Of course, I did, and I still do.” He reaffirms softly with a small smile unfurling his lips.

“I’ve missed you too.” You tell him after having to swallow the familiar painful lump in your throat, and you hope that he doesn’t notice the palpable tremor in your voice. You clear your throat, now adjusting yourself to get more comfortable on the sofa and curl at the corner with both your knees pressing to your chest. “So, wanna tell me about your day?”

“Nothing much. The boys and I had takeaway dinner in Jungwon’s room after I ended the Weverse live—“ Heeseung continues while you listen attentively; at least you try to because it’s hard to process his words into your brain when all you can think about is how much you miss him. You hum every once in a while to acknowledge him, your eyes focusing on his animated face, but your vision eventually gets blurry with each blink while your throat feels painfully constricted with the bundle of emotions threatening to implode. 

“The practices before the actual concert were tough, and it sucks how I needed my girl more than ever, but I’m miles apart from her.” Heeseung speaks out his frustration before realising that he is getting too carried away, but in the relationship, he’s the one doing most of the talking, whereas you would listen to him and gives your input politely whenever appropriate. He notices how unusually quiet you have gone and the way tears are welling in your waterline, alarming him. “Hey, you okay?”

“Mmhm.” You hum with your lips pressed thinly together, but there is a discernible crack in your voice. You muster a smile that feels painful, trying to maintain the facade you put up. “I’m glad that the tour went well in the end.”

“Sweetheart… you’re crying.” He points out gently, his eyes soften, and his lips downturn into a frown, watching as the teetering tears in your waterline finally cascade down your cheeks.

“I’m not.” You insist, using the end of your sleeves to wipe away the tears, a futile effort as they keep coming down like a waterfall. You hear him calling your name, but you are too absorbed by the whirlwind of emotions within you. An accidental sob leaves your lips as you still busily wipe the tears away. “I’m not crying.” You insist weakly, lacking the resolve to remain strong in his eyes.

“What’s wrong? Did you have a hard time at work?” Heeseung asks, fussing like a mother hen as his concern for you amplifies. Throughout the years of your relationship, you rarely ever showed him the vulnerable side of you, so to witness you breaking down hits him in the gut. He can only watch you helplessly on his phone screen as you continue to cry, his heart clenching painfully at the sound of your heartbreaking cries and sobs.

“You gotta let me know what’s wrong, baby. It’s hurting my heart to see you like this. Tell me, please?” He pleads, his fingers on his phone tightening as he feels useless and helpless that he isn’t there by your side to comfort you right now. He decides to wait patiently for you to become coherent again while offering you sweet nothings in a gentle tone.

Finally, you manage to calm yourself down, albeit hiccuping every now and then from going nearly hysterical over your emotions. “Work was fine. Everything’s fine. I just—“ You sniffle as you look away from him, your chest tightening with a familiar emotion. When you muster the courage to look at him again, your eyes turn glossy. “I just missed you. I miss you so much, and I need you.” 

Heeseung can feel his own heart breaking at the way you look at him with raw yet intense yearning. “Sweetheart—”

“I know I shouldn’t be like this when I promised that I’d be your most supportive and understanding girlfriend, but it keeps getting harder to be apart from you.” You finally pour out your pent-up emotions, letting him know earnestly without filtering your words. A hiccup leaves your lips, and it takes every ounce of strength in him to hold back an endearing smile as he finds you quite adorable with your slightly puffy eyes and lips. “You know that I’m happy and proud that you’re thriving in your career, but I can’t lie to you anymore when I say it hurts that you’re not here with me. It hurts to be apart from you constantly.” You close your mouth, realising how absurd you are being before looking down, ashamed of how you are acting on your emotions. “I’m being dramatic, aren’t I? I’m sorry, Heeseung.”

“No, sweetheart, don’t ever apologise for speaking out your feelings.” He says sternly, his tone compelling you to look into his eyes, but all you see is how they soften with assurance and reserved affection for you. “We promised each other that we’d be more open and communicate, right?”

You nod your head feebly at his reminder. “It’s just that I don’t want to disappoint you by being a clingy girlfriend who needs you by her side every day, and it’d be unrealistic because you’re a K-pop idol.” You mumble, and tears prick in your eyes again as you feel fear-stricken by your worst nightmare. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“You could never disappoint me, baby. I don’t care if you want to be clingy with me or need my attention 24/7. You’re my girlfriend. I’d give you anything you want.” His words of assurance do little to allay the worst possible outcome that taunts you in your mind. “Besides, it’s going to take more than that for me to leave you, not that I would, ever.” 

But you remain avoidant with your head turned to the side as you hide your face in your arm, eliciting a soft yet patient sigh from him. “Look at me, baby. Let me take a look at your beautiful face, please.” He pleads softly, his tone mellow; you can’t help but be compelled. When your glossy eyes meet his, he gives you a warm smile, a smile that provides comfort over your distressed mind. “You’re okay, sweetheart. We’re okay. I’m not even mad or disappointed.”

This time, you believe him, his assurance putting your frazzled emotions at ease. Seeing how relaxed you are as you lean back against the sofa with your face devoid of any sign of distress, he feels at ease too, knowing that you are no longer in such an intense spiralling of your emotions. “You’re good now?” He asks for confirmation, his tone remaining a soft lull.

“Yeah.” You manage to utter quietly, no longer feeling dubious or embarrassed by the fact that you showed him your raw vulnerability, and instead, you feel closer to him in an unexplainable sense despite him being literally in another country at the moment.

Heeseung seems satisfied by your affirmation. “Let’s focus on you now, yeah? I wanna hear my girl talk about her day.” He says while there is an avid interest in his countenance, rendering you flattered.

You begin to fiddle with the hem of his hoodie subconsciously, hyperaware of his dark, mesmerising eyes being fixated on you in a way that feels intense. “I didn’t do much. Just resting and lazing around since today’s my day off from work.” You tell him, being careful with how you choose your words because he doesn’t need to know the exact truth.

A frown touches his lips. “You didn’t go out? Not even with your friends?” It’s weird because you would usually go out with your friends or do something productive on your off days, not saying that you're unproductive just staying at home. “You must’ve been bored staying at our home all day.”

“No, I wasn’t bored at all.” You counter, and yet you sound weak as the recollection of today plays on your mind while warmth weaves across your every vein. “I was busy with—” You immediately smack your lips shut, nearly revealing the truth to him.

Heeseung is intrigued, really intrigued, because he has never seen you being so meek like you are now. “Busy with?” His question is harmless, a genuine curiosity, but your mind resorts to producing such filth you want him to do with you — the kind of filth you have never done with him, nothing to the usual loving he always did with you.

“Doing stuff.” You mumble, your eyes purposely avoiding his confused ones, probably wondering what part of his question suddenly makes you avoidant, but this time, he can see that you’re flaring with diffidence.

“What kind of stuff?” Heeseung probes, and you know he will remain unrelenting unless you cave into his curiosity. The corner of your lips twitches up when he whines. “Come on. Tell me.”

“The kind of stuff that reminds me of you.” You utter each syllable slowly, but you decide to focus on his prominent Adam’s apple, which is one of your favourite parts of him, and fuck, you can imagine yourself rubbing your clit on it. 

For a moment, Heeseung doesn’t exactly comprehend your words, eliciting an annoyed huff from you, because there is no way your dirty-minded boyfriend does not understand the subtle implication. “Since I’ve been busy missing you too much, I played with the stuff that you bought for me.” You elaborate, your tone being carefully measured, and yet you can feel yourself weakening when a familiar suggestiveness shadows his once-softened features.

“Oh, yeah?” His voice a low rasp, igniting the heat flaring in your lower abdomen. The look in his eyes feels like a silent command as you find yourself slowly parting your legs as they hang over the edge of the sofa. “Did my baby have fun with it?”

You hum as you nod your head, his sultry voice making your clit throb. “Yes, but it wasn’t enough.” You say softly, but you can feel your breathing getting heavier.

“Of course, it wasn’t. It could never be compared to the real thing.” Heeseung smirks, his dark eyes scanning you intensely. He can see how needy you actually are behind this front of yours, and he knows that it won’t be too soon when you finally reveal to him. “My poor baby has been missing me too much — too much to the point that she’s craving my cock.”

You can physically feel your clit pulsating at his lewd words, and damn it, he’s right, because instantly, you drop all pretence, revealing what you have been keeping at bay. “Missed you so much, Hee.” You whimper, your cunt clenching at the smirk on his handsome face.

“I know, baby. You’re needy for me too, yeah?” He swallows down a groan, seeing the glossy look on your face. Maybe it’s because he’s feeling horny, but you look practically fuckable. This time, he doesn’t bother controlling his primal urges as his cock becomes a prominent bulge against his sweatpants.

You hum in an agreeing whine, the sound going straight into his cock. “Need you so badly, Seungie.” You mewl as you arch your back off the sofa while your hand travels down to your clothed cunt. “I need you and your cock to stuff me full.”

“Tell me more.” He demands, his jaw tightening with tension as he becomes intensely aroused by the sultry look on your face. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Things.” You nearly slur in the way you speak as your head spins at the palpable tension that you can feel even through the screen. You stroke your clothed cunt slowly, your fingers itching to remove your garment just to properly touch yourself. “Many things. The filthy kind.”

“You gotta be specific, sweetheart.” He chuckles lowly, his smirking countenance makes it seem like he’s degrading you, and fuck, you feel more turned on than you did before. It’s even better when throughout your sex life with him, he has never once degraded you in any way. “What sort of filth does my naughty girl want me to do to her?”

A needy whine escapes you, getting unbearably turned on as flashes of obscene scenarios appear in your mind while every inch of your skin feels hot. “Want your tongue on my pussy, lick and eat me out messily till I come, do it over and over again, and make me squirt.” You manage to utter such words without feeling any embarrassment, overshadowed by the pure need of your desire for the man beyond your reach. You let your head fall back to the sofa’s back, your eyelids weighing heavy with the lewd imagination playing in your head. “I want you to fuck me hard, fuck me with your cock till I break. Want you to use me as your cocksleeve every day. I need you to ruin me, Hee.”

“Fuck, baby.” Heeseung breathes out harshly, his eyes nearly rolling to the back at such lewd words leaving your once sweet-mouth. Never in his life has he ever heard you talking like that. His eyes flicker down at his very prominent bulge, feeling it painfully hard with incessant need before he directs his focus back on you through the screen. “You wanna be a good girl for me?”

The thought of pleasing him makes you eager, so you nod your head, eliciting a breathy chuckle from him at your enthusiasm. “I want you to grab the dildo I bought for you, and I want you to strip naked for me before you come back.” He instructs firmly, his dark eyes piercing into the screen as he stares at you, sending shivers through your heated body. “And position your phone where I can see every inch of you clearly, alright?”

You nod your head wordlessly in compliance and quickly toss your phone aside on the sofa before proceeding to rush for your room while the sound of your footsteps through the audio of his phone renders him amused at your obvious eagerness. 

Meanwhile, Heeseung decides to lower his sweatpants just enough for his cock to spring free, and damn, it looks angrier than it did just earlier. He is incredibly turned on that his cock remains hanging high, the ridges and veins protruding as a result of being neglected. He clenches his fist, restraining himself from touching his cock, not until you arrive. He closes his eyes as he leans his head back against the headboard, feeling quite surreal that this will be his first video call sex with you ever.

“Heeseung?” Your velvety voice prompts him to snap his eyes open before grabbing his phone at the side that he nearly fumbles with from the unbridled excitement. When he looks at his phone screen, he nearly drops it while his heart pumps harder at the lewd sight of your nudity fitting in the frame as you sit politely on the sofa with the pink dildo in your grasp.

Heeseung marvels at your nudity, his eyes hungrily feasting on every inch of your body, and he swears he can feel blood pumping in his cock as it hardens tighter than it did before. He smirks at the lingering diffidence in your countenance, being aware of his effect on you, even just by his mere gaze. He fucking loves it whenever you become shy all because of him.

“You look so damn beautiful, baby.” He is in complete awe, as though this is the first time you bare your nudity to him. Your clit throbs faintly as you observe the raw hunger in his eyes, his eyes roaming around your tits. You flush warmly at the sound of his low groan through the audio as he sees your perky nipples that look delicious enough to be devoured by his untamed mouth. “We’re going to do something new this time. Are you okay with it?”

“Yes.” You utter softly, earning you a small smile from him. You had placed your phone on the coffee table in front of you with your abandoned ceramic mug supporting your phone horizontally.

“I want you to put aside your dildo first.” He instructs, and you do so without tearing your gaze off his face. You can practically feel her fluttering in excitement as you observe his eyes trailing down to your closed legs. “Now show me your pretty pussy, baby.”

For a moment, you hesitate as it dawns on you that this is the first time you and your boyfriend will be engaged in this type of foreplay. But the encouragement he offers you with a soft, subtle head nod dispels any lingering doubts and embarrassment from you. You allow every muscle in your body to relax before slowly spreading your legs open, shoving down a needy whine in the back of your throat as the action causes your clit to throb incessantly.

You see the way his nose flares slightly just by the mere sight of your shaved mount, and with a daring spirit, you use your fingers to spread it open, revealing your already glistening folds to him. You feel grateful for how easily you can get wet just by the thought of your hot boyfriend.

“There she is. Fuck, she looks so soaked.” He groans as his cock visibly twitches at the explicit view of your pussy. He quickly recovers, wanting to give your needy pussy some attention as he leans his body slightly forward with interest. A grin smears across his lips, his eyes being solely fixated on your pussy. “Hi, princess. You’ve been missing me too much, haven’t you?”

“Heeseung.” Your humourless tone silently indicates your bafflement upon witnessing your boyfriend speaking and cooing to your pussy as though it is a person, and you can practically feel her preening under his overflowing affection. Yet, you can’t deny that there is something hot about this.

“Shhh. I’m still talking to her, baby.” Heeseung playfully admonishes you without meeting your gaze. He continues to entertain exposed pussy, adoration and lust blending in his eyes. “The dildo did not satisfy you enough, did it? You need my cock to keep you warm and full, nice and deep inside of you that you won’t even wanna let go of me.”

You can’t help but instinctively clench at his words. “Look at you, princess. I can see you clenching. It’s too bad that you are not stuffed with my cock right now.” He remarks in amazement, and yet the mockery belies his adoration is not lost on you as you find it undeniably hot. “You love it when I talk to you like this, hmm? Should I talk to my pretty princess like this once I get back?”

“Hee, please.” You plead, having had enough of his teasing, and you must be insane to even feel bits of jealousy that his attention is on your pussy instead of you, as though your pussy is not a part of you.

Heeseung chuckles softly as he is very much amused by your pouty attitude before deciding to cease his teasing, albeit he was very much serious when he was talking to your pussy. “Touch your clit for me, baby.” He finally directs his words to you, and you comply, the padding of your index and middle fingers now touching your clit that throbs under your own touch. “Now rub it nice and slow. That’s it.”

Your fingers continue to rub your button in a circular motion, nice and slow, just as he said. It does not take you a minute when you begin to feel the familiar sensation in your aroused little button as you continue to stimulate it.

Heeseung observes your reaction carefully, drinking in the pleasure that faintly contorts in your mesmerising features. His own hand goes straight to his neglected cock, hissing lowly as he uses the padding of his thumb to stroke the red slit in a repeated up-and-down motion, imagining how good it would feel if he were there with you to use the tip of his cock to rub your clit instead. 

“Does it feel good?” He asks in a slightly strained voice, already feeling sensitive under his own touch, his thumb continuously rubbing the slit in slow yet hard strokes, delaying the peak of his pleasure to arrive as he wants to see you come undone first.

You hum in response, still maintaining your composure as you are focused on rubbing your clit, but when you flicker your gaze to him, you bite down your lip upon seeing how he is evidently caught in a lustful haze, no doubt that he is touching himself. “But your fingers would feel better on it.” You whine softly.

Your words feed into his ego. “Of course, they would. I can easily make you cum just by rubbing your clit with my fingers, because your clit is so sensitive.” He says smugly with a smirk curling at his lips. “It’s actually so fucking adorable. Wonder how you’ll be once I get my tongue to touch your swollen little button instead.” 

“Fuck, Hee.” You moan softly as you arch to your own touch, your imagination going vividly wild — his tongue caressing and licking your clit relentlessly with such precision. 

“Look at you. Already falling apart.” He finds great delight in teasing you just by his lewd words that affect you more than he expected. “You wanna know what I would do just to your cute clit alone?”

“Tell me, please.” You keen, your fingers now rubbing your clit in fast motion, causing your back to arch off the sofa while you spread your legs even more, disregarding the limit to your flexibility. 

“I would rub it with my thumb, giving it a little tease before I go licking it, swirling my tongue slowly around your swollen clit—” He becomes distracted by the pleasurable sensation as he rubs the slit that is now glistening with his arousal. He recovers with a grunt, refocusing on you, and fuck, you look sinfully divine with your body arching to your touch while your tits are pushed out. “And then, I would suck it like how I suck your nipples, and maybe I’d smack your pussy before making you cum hard, repeating the same actions and overstimulating you just to listen to your cute whines till you cry.”

You’re imagining the delicious description of what he would do to you hard, and your building pleasure intensifies as your fingers stimulate your clit at full tilt. You control the moans spilling from your lips as you look at your phone screen. “I wanna see your cock.” You tell him in a demand, earning an eyebrow raised from him.

“What’s the magic word, sweetheart?” He asks in a playful drawl, his lips curving into a lazy grin as he enjoys how the expression on your face is bordering on such desperation.

“Please let me see your cock, daddy.” The syllable leaves your lips wantonly as you whine, and it feels absurdly natural to utter such a forbidden endearment to refer to your lover as. You catch a glimpse of a fleeting surprise in his face amidst your desperate, lustful haze before it is replaced by something so primal. “I missed your cock so much.”

“Yeah? You missed daddy’s cock?” Heeseung sounds more than on board with it, practically into it as he gazes at you hungrily while his voice sounds rough at the edges. You whimper out a ‘yes’ with glossy eyes, and that’s all it takes for him to cave into your request as he tilts his phone to the angle where you are greeted by his seven inches. “Look, baby. You got daddy so hard — it’s angry that it’s not inside of my pretty baby’s pussy or mouth right now.”

“S’unfair!” A sob leaves your lips while you pour your pent-up frustration into your fingers as they rub your swollen clit vigorously. “I’m so needy for you, daddy!” Your unabashed moans echo off the walls of your shared apartment with Heeseung, finally letting go of the last thread of your inhibition.

“I know, baby. It’s unfair that I’m not there to give you what you want right now, but daddy will make it up to you soon.” He coos, his features softening with the familiar affection before something dark shadows them, causing his eyes to darken dangerously. “Daddy will stuff you nice and full with his cock soon. I promise you.”

His firm promise is enough to quell the bitterness at the current circumstances that burns indignantly in your heart. You move your hips slightly in tandem to your vigorous fingers, feeling the imminent release that is teetering at the edge while your clit painfully throbs that serves as a warning. “Hee! I feel—"

Heeseung bites back a growl, feeling practically ravenous at the delicious sight of you losing yourself to your own touch as your mouth is partly open, silently moaning with your eyes rolling to the back. “Come for me.” On his command, you let go, your pussy fluttering with the mess of your release as you can feel it sliding down on your skin to your butt.

Heeseung hums lazily, watching you intently as you slump against the sofa while he continues to manipulate his now-wet slit in measured strokes. “Tired already, sweetheart?” He asks mockingly.

Something inside you gets triggered by his mocking, and you refuse to back down from the challenge that he benignly imposes on you. You shoot him a brief glare, defiance burning in your irises that has him smirking. “No.” 

“Good, because we’re not done yet.” His dark chuckles intensify the burning need in you. He looks down at your slick cunt, his tongue darting out to slide across his bottom lip. “Finger yourself. Need you to be prepped because I want to see you fucking yourself with that dildo.”

Your fingers feel like they have muscles of their own as they instinctively heed his command, now travelling down to your weeping cunt. Using your middle and ring fingers, you slowly insert them into your hole, cringing at the unfamiliarity of fingering yourself since you are used to Heeseung doing it for you with his long, slender fingers.

Still, you want to appease him, your fingers thrusting in and out steadily, but it just doesn’t feel right. “I missed your fingers in me.” You whine, your lips forming into a pout that you hope he would get the hint that you’re not into this despite the slick of arousal accumulating as it trickles down on your skin.

“Keep going, baby.” He orders sternly, eliciting more whines of protest from you, but he easily tames you with his dark, penetrating eyes, rendering you completely compliant. It baffles you how he looks collected as you can clearly see that he is rubbing the red tip of his cock. “Use your other fingers and spread your pretty pussy. I wanna see it.”

You hold back a whimper before obeying his command, your other fingers aiding your currently occupied fingers by using your index and middle fingers to finally spread your wet folds open, now giving him the raw obscenity of your fingers plunging into your sopping cunt.

“You’re so soaked, princess.” He comments, his voice a low husk that has your pussy fluttering again. Fuck, he’s so damn attractive in everything he does. “Close your eyes. Imagine that’s my fingers fucking you.”

You close your eyes and tilt your head to the back, your brows pulling together into a soft knit as you try to imagine his fingers fucking you instead of yours, and it’s working as you feel your hips moving in tandem with your fingers.

Heeseung nearly chokes on his saliva, completely mesmerised by the raw sensuality of you as you evidently lose yourself to your own touch. He desperately wants to engrave this moment on his mind, even better if he could record you and save it to his gallery. He stops rubbing his slit, only to begin pumping his cock.

“Look at you. Fucking yourself so desperately, but it isn’t enough, is it?” He sneers, feeling turned on that you seem to like when his words are bordering on mean as you moan in response. “You need daddy’s long fingers deep inside and curl them, fucking you fast and hard till you squirt.”

You fuck yourself harder with your fingers, trying to attain that familiar pleasurable sensation the way you did earlier, but it isn’t enough. “Please! I want your fingers so bad.” You sob out, your eyes seeking him as they plead desperately while the movement of your fingers nearly falters. “I can’t do it. I can’t make myself cum with my fingers alone, daddy.”

Heeseung can’t help but break character just slightly, his concern and affection for you slipping between the cracks. He even loses momentum in pumping his cock that remains hard for you. “But baby, you aren’t properly stretched.” His tone holds the familiar protectiveness.

“I can take it, daddy.” You reassure him after a needy sob leaves you. You look at him with doe-pleading eyes that you know he can’t resist. “Please?”

“Fine. Then take it like a good girl, yeah?” He smirks, resuming to pump his cock at an intensity that has the tip swollen and redder. “Grab that dildo and fuck yourself with it. Don’t forget to keep your legs spread open. Daddy wants to see your pretty pussy taking it.”

You quickly remove your fingers from your hole, eagerly grabbing the pink dildo despite the stickiness of your arousal on your fingers. You position the head of the dildo and align it to your hole before slowly pushing it inside, inch by inch. A gasp leaves your lips at the inevitable stretch of your walls, prompting you to halt halfway.

“What’s wrong? Can’t take it?” His mockery reignites the flame of defiance within you, but his dark eyes feel gradually intimidating, which renders you submissively whiny as you spread your legs further with your back arched. “Come on, baby. You fucked yourself with it earlier, so you can definitely make it fit. How is your cunt going to fit daddy’s cock?”

“I can.” You whimper, tears prickling in your eyes before you muster the courage to continue pushing the dildo into your cunt. The unrelenting stretch elicits more gasps from you, your breathing ragged. “I just need a minute.”

Heeseung is caught in a lustful haze as he zeros in on how your hole takes the dildo, imagining hard at the sensation of your velvety walls being stretched by his girth and eventually enveloping him. With a grunt, he begins to pump himself harder, wanting to test the limit of his endurance in prolonging his orgasm.

Finally, every inch of the dildo is now snuggled in your hole. “There we go. Good girl.” He purrs in satisfaction, making you preen. His dark eyes are heavily fixated on the dildo being stuffed in your dripping cunt. “Now fuck yourself with it. Thrust it into your needy cunt however you want.”

You let out a silent whimper as you begin to pull the dildo, only to push it back in, your walls having to be stretched by the girth, but you know that this is nothing compared to his real cock. You allow your head to rest on the sofa’s back, your chest heaving up and down as you imagine the ridges and veins of his cock grazing against your walls while he fucks you in slow, deep strokes. You moan softly as you increase the tempo of your hand manipulating the dildo into your dripping cunt.

You glance down at your phone screen, only to moan out at the pleasure contorting in his face as he fists his cock with his hand. “I watched some of your concert clips earlier.” You tell him breathlessly as he looks at you with an attractive eyebrow raised. “And you got me so wet, daddy.” You moan again, now reaching for your tits with your other hand, palming and fiddling with your nipples, which intensifies the building pleasure.

“Oh, yeah? Naughty girl.” He teases you, his eyes watching you playing with your tits that he had been dreaming of latching his lips to your suckable nipples. He pumps his angry cock harder, his mind running wild at the scenario — sucking your tits while he fucks you hard with his hips bruisingly snapping into yours. “Which ones are your favourites?” 

“Um—“ Your voice shakes at the instability of having to focus on his question, but the dildo that is fucking into your cunt right now feels good. “Teeth and Future Perfect performances.” You answer in a breathy moan, recalling how you felt when you were watching those clips of him.

You thrust the dildo faster and harder; the squelching sound of your wet cunt reaches your ears while he clenches his jaw at how wet you really are, pissed off that it’s not even his cock that is making you that wet.

“You looked so hot when you were performing those songs, the way you looked angry.” You tell him keenly, practically purring as you recall the intensity in his dark eyes that looked primal when he was performing and how he looked pissed off, making you wetter as you imagine the stuff you want him to do to you. “You should’ve felt how wet I was while I was watching those clips. Got me imagining how you’d fuck me angrily.”

Despite your sultry admission going straight into his hard cock, his eyebrows furrow with a tinge of concern plastered on his face, but he never relents from pumping his cock. “Baby, you know I would never fuck my anger into you.” The reserved softness in his tone elicits a whine of protest from you, needing him to be mean to you instead.

“But it’ll be so hot!” You moan out as you arch your back off the sofa before moving your hips sensually to meet the thrust of your dildo deeper. “I want you to fuck me mean till I’m a sobbing mess. You know you’d want that, daddy.” You purr, your sultry eyes gazing at him with a challenge while his cock twitches angrily at the thought. Fuck yeah, he’d want that. 

“Fuck.” He grits his teeth, faltering in his momentum as his head spins at the scenario of him fucking you ruthlessly till you beg for him to stop, till you cry and sob as he overstimulates you with his cock all night. “Yeah? You want daddy to be mean?” He nearly growls out his words while your cunt clenches around the dildo at the sound.

“Want it so much.” You whine needily as you palm your tits harder, getting crazily turned on as you watch him throw his head to the back with his Adam's apple bobbing up and down attractively while sweats trickle down his neck. “Want you to cuff my wrists and choke me while you fuck me hard. Want you to do mean things to me so badly.”

Your needy yet genuine admission has him reeling in the head. He feels like an animal, growling at the salacious thought of you being restrained to the bed while you take everything he gives to you like a good little fucktoy — nothing like the usual lovemaking. He groans huskily at the image of you in tears as you pathetically plead with him to stop despite your sopping cunt meeting his thrusts.

“I’ll do more than that.” He rasps, his tone darkening with promises that cause your clit to throb and your nipples to perk. When you meet his eyes, you whimper at the intensity that reminds you of those concert clips of him. “I promise you, baby, I’ll give you what you want once I come back.” A cruel smirk touches his lips, shocking you at the dark sensuality he emits. “You want me to be fucking mean while I fuck you senselessly? I’ll do just that. I’ll make you scream and cry while you take everything I give to your needy pussy. You’ll get mean Heeseung, alright.”

“Fuck, daddy!” You moan loudly, getting unbearably turned on by his dark promises as you thrust the dildo harder, hurtling yourself to the edge of ecstasy. You abandon your tits, only to stimulate your clit in fast, circular motion.

“We’ll go all night, never stopping till your needy pussy is leaking with my cum, till your pussy can’t fit any more of my cum, but I’ll make you swallow them.” He lets out a guttural moan as he pumps his cock furiously, his eyes rolling to the back at the height of his pleasure. “I’ll fuck you for days, keeping you satisfied and full till you can’t walk. I’ll fucking do it, because it’s daddy’s job to spoil his princess.”

“Yes, daddy! Want you to spoil his princess!” You’re not sure if you’re referring to yourself or your pussy, but you are deprived of coherency as you get lost in the dual sensation of your cunt and your clit being manipulated by your own hands. “I’m feeling close, Hee!”

“Don’t you dare come before me.” He warns in a growl, sending pleasurable shivers through you. You obey him, whining and moaning as you try your best to stave off your orgasm that is teetering, yet you are rubbing your clit skilfully fast. “Yeah, baby. Keep rubbing your clit for me like that. Cock feels good, hm?”

You hum in response with tears pricking in your eyes. “But not better than daddy’s cock.” You sob out pathetically, and that has him cooing at you with mockery. “Need daddy’s cock to satisfy my needy pussy.” But in the haze of lust, the familiar sentiments manage to grip you tight as your glossy eyes meet his. “I missed you so much, Hee.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” He softens up just slightly, seeing the familiar yearning in your pretty eyes. He clenches his jaw, pouring his pent-up emotions he hasn't conveyed to you just yet into pumping his cock while effectively stroking his thumb on his wet slit. “I’m never letting you go, ever. We’ll fuck every day once I get back, and I’ll breed you till you get pregnant with our kids. Daddy will take such good care of you.”

“Yes, yes! Breed me, daddy!” You keenly moan, your hips stuttering as you imagine he pumps his load into you to the brim, breeding you. 

“I’m gonna buy you a ring, and I’m gonna marry you, tying you to me forever.” He pours out what his heart has been yearning for. Despite the lust fogging his head, he looks at you with an intense yearning from the love he harbours for you, desperation contorting in his features fleetingly. “I’ll make you my wife.”

“Nngh! Hee!” You can feel it coming, your teetering orgasm on the brink of being released against your weakened will while the coil in your tummy threatens to snap at any moment. You fuck the dildo into you even faster, sobbing out. “I can’t hold back! I need to come, please!”

“Daddy will make you beg more too. You sound so fucking pretty when you do.” He groans, and with one last pump, his cock spurts out the white, sticky essence that now soaks his sweatpants. He breathes out harshly at the intensity of his own release before looking back at you, only to smirk at how obedient you are, waiting for his command with tears staining your cheeks, such desperation. “Alright, sweetheart, you can let go anytime for me.”

“Thank you, daddy.” Your moan tangles with your sob, and at once, your orgasm comes crashing down on you violently, leaving your legs trembling while you arch your back, your mouth parting with a silent moan as your cunt gushes out with your sticky release.

“That’s my perfect girl, making a mess all over.” He remarks with an unmistakable affection as he watches you with primal hunger, enjoying how ruined you look just from fucking yourself, but not nearly as ruined as he will make you once he returns.

Your heart flutters at his praise while you remain slumped against the sofa, allowing your limbs to rest as the exertion begins to dawn in every part of your muscles. Eventually, you force yourself to remove the dildo from your cunt slowly, whimpering as you do so as it grazes down against your walls. You eye the dildo that is covered by your sticky release before tossing it aside. You can feel how soaked the cushion is beneath you due to your release, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You take a moment to recover while the sound of your boyfriend’s ragged breathing can be heard through the audio. The silence is familiarly comfortable, neither of you uttering a word to each other as you bask in the afterglow of your session. But some of the words he spoke to you in the midst of your lustful haze resonate deep in you. Your heart begins to pound harder while butterflies return in their wake.

“You okay, baby?” He asks softly, now being the sweet and gentle boyfriend that you’re in love with. He is still wiping off the excess of his release with tissues off his now-limp cock, but he grimaces at the apparent stain on his grey sweatpants.

“I’m okay.” You tell him reassuringly, your voice coming out small from the excessive whines and moans that bring your face to flush warmly at how wanton you were earlier. You lean forward, grimacing at the aches in your legs and the stickiness in between your thighs before grabbing your phone. Your eyes soften as he gazes at you. “Heeseung, did you mean what you said?” 

You refer to every word he spoke to you, needing assurance and affirmation from him; otherwise, you’d be overthinking at night. “I meant every word, sweetheart.” He says firmly, his tone lacing with promises.

You bite your inner cheek, feeling nervous about what you are about to ask. “Even about making me your wife?” You ask quietly, your eyes scanning his unreadable expression carefully. 

“Especially that.” His declaration sends a wave of emotions to you as your breath goes hitched in your throat. The raw vulnerability and yearning in his eyes are palpable, as though they are the reflection of your own sentiment. “I really feel the same way too, you know?”

Somehow, you have a strong inkling that he is referring to him missing you. You exhale softly before a small yet weak smile touches your lips. “I know, Hee—“

“No, baby, you don’t understand because I’ve been missing you too much, more than you missed me.” He cuts you off, taking you by complete surprise at the sheer desperation and pain that contorts in his handsome features, because you have never seen him being like this — as though the distance is killing him agonisingly on the inside too. “You’re on my mind constantly, even when I was practicing, and all I could think about is going home to you as soon as possible. I needed you, I still do.”

You try to find your voice, wanting to speak out, anything to ease your lover’s pain, but he continues to pour out the pent-up emotions he had been grappling with. “I hate to say it, but it got me thinking if my being an idol is even worth it if it means that I’d have to leave you again and again for tours.”

This time, something inside of you snaps. “Don’t say that, Hee. I never want it to reach a point where you find yourself in a position of choosing between me or your idol job.” You don’t mean to sound harsh, but you can’t allow it to happen, even if it means that you might lose him to his job. Your voice trembles as you speak again, tears welling in your waterline. “You love being an idol, you love your teammates, you love performing in front of your fans, and you must be crazy to think that I’d even allow you to choose me—“

“But I love you more.” Heeseung declares with vehemence while the devastation painting his handsome face tears a sob out of you. “Yes, I love being an idol, but it could never be compared to the weight of my love for you.”

“Heeseung.” You utter his name weakly as tears cascade down your cheeks freely. His declaration of love is all it takes for you to break down.

He watches you helplessly as you attempt to wipe your tears away. “God, I hate it when I’m not there to wipe your tears for you.” He whispers, his heart clenching painfully when your glossy eyes meet him.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter, hating how you are being overly sensitive and getting too carried away with your emotions. 

“No more apologies from you, baby, because I’m the one who should be apologising to you.” He says softly, yet firmly enough for you to grasp his sincerity.

“But you didn’t do anything wrong.” You counter weakly, sniffling. “You’re simply doing your job, and I’m just being a dramatic girlfriend.”

“I did you wrong by leaving your side when you needed me the most.” He says with a rueful smile. “You can expect a lot of apologies from me once I come back home, and a ring too.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief, earning you a chuckle from him. “What? You thought I was joking about buying you a ring?” He adorns a boyish grin that you so badly want to kiss him. “I did say that I’d be making you my wife. I’m a man of my words, sweetheart.”

“But it’s still early for us to get married!” You protest despite your heart thumping in agreement to his words. A frown tugs at your lips, determined to make him change his mind as you don’t want him to regret it. “I won’t allow marriage to get in the way of your job. Would your fans even accept the idea of us getting married?”

“Baby, you’re my future and my happiness. If the company wants to kick me out simply for marrying you, then so be it. I can always take over my dad’s business as a source of income. As for my fans, well, they’ll be happy for me — I’m sure they will, at least the real ones will.”

“I don’t know if I’m worth it for you to go through such lengths, Hee.” Your lips quiver, feeling dejected. “I don’t want you to throw away your years of hard work because of me. You went through so much just to get where you are now.”

“You are worth it, worth more than you think.” He says reassuringly, his tone sounding firm with conviction, but it does nothing to alleviate the thoughts he can see swirling in your head, eliciting a soft sigh from him. “If you’re still worried about my consideration in quitting my idol job, then I’ll figure things out and find ways so that I won’t have to leave your side again.”

“Promise me that you won’t quit.” You plead, your voice breaking as you feel immensely conflicted, because you can never deny a part of you that yearns for him to choose you. “I don’t want you to have any regrets if you had chosen that path.”

“Baby, I won’t have any regrets when it comes to you—”

“Just promise me, Heeseung.” You implore as your eyes glisten with unshed tears. “Promise me that you won’t quit because of me.” because of love.

Heeseung doesn’t respond as he examines your teary countenance, noticing how desperate you are and knowing that you won’t back down, even if he can feel your heart breaking. He resigns with a sigh. “I promise.” He hopes that he sounds convincing enough, because you are crazy to think that he would never choose you, but only for now, the idea of marriage is pushed to the back of his mind. 

You feel at ease despite your heartache, but you know that this is for the best for him. You sniffle again, earning an adoring grin from him. You avoid his eyes, a sudden diffidence cloaking you while your cheeks flush warmly. “Besides, how else will I be able to watch you perform on stage? I love watching you perform.”

“I know, baby, because I turn you on whenever I perform.” His mischief returns to his demeanour, a smirk unfurling on his lips while desire burns in his gaze. “What did you tell me earlier? Something about how I looked hot while I was performing Future Perfect and Teeth?”

You smile shyly as you nod your head, and God, he feels like he’s in love with you over and over again. “Mmhmm. You looked like you were angry, but I loved it. It got me all hot and bothered.” You tell him bluntly, oblivious to your words that rouse him.

“Fuck, baby, we should stop now.” He groans, repressing the arousal from reaching his cock. “I don’t think I could handle another round.”

“Right, you need sleep.” You say, pouting as you realise that he is supposed to be asleep right now.

“Don’t pout, sweetheart. I’ll be back before you know it.” He says reassuringly before his lips curve into a smirk again. “I hope you won’t forget what I promised you earlier, because we’re not done yet.”

“Hurry back, then.” You adorn a sultry smile on your lips, and the sensuality of you elicits a breathy cuss from him. “I expect you to ruin me once you return home, daddy.”

“Don’t worry, princess. You’ll get what you asked for. You’re gonna get it.”

You have never felt as anticipated as you are now, but the reality of him returning to you is in two long days. You let out a silent huff before eyeing your pink dildo. Guess that’ll work and keep you company for the next two days.

#1 PERM TAGLIST:

@ja3yun @yzzyhee @sunpov @vveebee @jiryunn

@nshmrarki @roslayy @machambrx @wonnienyang @punchbug9-blog

@hollyoongs @chicxxy @tunafishyfishylike @norucking @riribelle

@lol6sposts @skzenhalove @reading-wh0re @tinie03 @cyjhhyj

@jungwonsstrawberriesnchocolate @mitmit01 @strxwbloody @woorcve @1309zip

@fancypeacepersona @tsukiflwr @karinaever @wolfhardbby @moonpri

@lucid-sombra @kittylicious-purr @addictedtohobi @lillotus17 @minahaeyo

@in-somnias-world @jezzzzzzmin @deobitifull @doublebunv @mamuljji

@adroitlane @wilonevys @florestalio @senazzzz @firstclassjaylee

@hellokittygurl9999 @woorcve @1309zip @vwricky @sunghoon-real-wife

[aubvrns]

you sleep so soundly, baby

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

Synopsis — You struggled to keep yourself awake to wait for Wanda, resulting to her finding you asleep on the couch. She proves how worth it she is to wait for.

Tags — Fluff (because I was happy today), Cuddling (because I am so touch deprived), Mentions of doing something more than cuddling (because I am a freak)

Note — Short, but I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

You remember trying to keep your eyes open.

But the soft, white covers of your pristine blanket betrayed you as the clock struck 11:00 PM. A faint anxiety lingered as you awaited Wanda's return from her mission, eager to be close to her after a week apart.

You did everything you could to stay awake—drinking two cups of coffee, watching episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, and scrolling through your old pictures on your phone.

Looking at those memories brought a smile to your face, even if it made you a bit emotional. You let out a heavy exhale and adjusted your position on the sofa, tucking your arms under the covers.

The last thing you remember is the thud of your phone hitting the bridge of your nose, followed by a sharp pain. But due to your extreme fatigue, you shrugged it off and fell asleep anyway.

—

“You look so freaking cute.”

You stir at the sound of someone whispering in your ear and reach for the covers, but someone else has already pulled them over you. Your head is no longer resting on the armrest of the couch; instead, it’s resting on a soft pillow.

You slowly flutter your eyes open, and familiar green eyes meet yours. The sight of her bright smile makes your heart skip a beat. As you rub my eyes, strong arms pull you closer to her warmth.

“Hey, you.”

Wanda's raspy voice brushed against your ear as her chin met your cheek, kissing your lips softly. “I missed you so much, my baby.”

Letting out a chuckle, you move yourself closer to her. Your arms wrapped around her torso as her hands lingered around your waist. You assumed she was just as tired as you and that both of you were now lying on the couch, latched onto each other.

“I don’t think I’m exactly baby-sized.”

You responded with a playful quip, causing her to burst into laughter. Without needing to think, you nestled your face into the soft curve of her neck, enveloped by the warmth of her presence. Her sweet, comforting scent of vanilla wafted around you, wrapping you in a soothing embrace that overwhelmed your senses and sent dizziness through your mind.

“You shouldn’t have waited for me. I could’ve just slipped under the covers with you the moment I got home.”

You felt her fingers gently running through your hair, a soft touch that sends shivers down your spine. Her smile feels warm and exciting as you hug, bodies fitting together perfectly.

“I wanted to wait for you. ” You mumble against her neck, placing a gentle kiss before nuzzling into her again.

Your words made her heart flutter. Wanda gazed at you with a warm, affectionate smile that lit up her entire face, her eyes sparkling with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. “Go to sleep. Don’t make me love you even more than I already do.”

You roll your eyes playfully, slowly pulling yourself to sit up.

“How much do you love me?” You whisper like you were spying on someone, eyes gleaming with amusement.

You knew she loved you as much as you did. To love someone is worth the effort of pulling them from sitting to lying back with you, and that is exactly what she did.

Wanda grinned, sides of her mouth turning upwards as she sultrily whispered back, “Want me to show you how much I do?”

Oh, she’s good.

“Not really in the mood right now but okay.” You bite back, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before tucking yourself back into the comfortable blanket.

The weight of it was pressing against you, but it was to keep you warm. You knew she was worth waiting for, even if it meant the depravity of the lack of sleep.

“Boring.” Wanda pouts, kissing you back. She waves her fingers gently as she threaded red energy amongst the air, closing all the lights in your home.

The covers weren’t as heavy the moment she hugged you. Wanda made your heart race and your mind dizzy all at once.

You stare at her, the moon reflecting softly at the glint of her eyes. Whispering softly, “I hope it’s you I wait for everyday.”

Wanda hummed in response, astute to knowing that to hope for it is unnecessary. It was already certain.

“I love you, too.”

—

[plethorawrites]

ahh your recent clark kent drabble has me so dizzy ,, him begging you not to make noise and he’d probably force his fingers into your mouth, down your throat, your little gags probably wouldn’t be much better, but better for him than hearing your moans 😩

MY PHONE FLEWWW FROM MY HAND WHEN I SAW THIS!!! But I absolutely see the vision! (This was longer and more explicit than planned. Oops? If anyone asks, I didn't write this and if you know me irl... please alert me so I can off myself)

Clark Kent, who adores having that little loft space in the barn because it's the perfect quiet spot for you and him to spend time together when his parents are home or you just don't want to risk getting caught. His couch is pretty comfortable too, so when he lays you down on it, it's more than enough space for you, even if he's barely able to fit on top of you.

It's usually peaceful, the two of you with just just enough privacy to make some noise without getting caught and just enough lack of it to add to the thrill of being in front of an open barn window while you're vertical. Despite not really fitting on it, he wouldn't dare complain when he had you laying under him, your legs intertwined with his, head tilted back against the arm rest as you held onto his neck.

If freezing time was one of his powers, he'd use it right then and there to memorize everything about this moment—your open lips, which were puffy from him biting on them and the bruises darkening on your neck as the seconds passed. The messy strands of your hair sticking to your face, which was flushed and glowing in the dim lighting. It's like his own persona heaven.

Or, it was, until he heard the barn door slide open.

He'd tried to stop, when he heard it, honestly, he did. Clark could see your eyes snap open, panic replacing your bliss, and wanted desperately to make you go back to babbling his name again. But considering his dad was below them, searching for something, that seemed like a bad idea.

After a few moments of complete stillness, he couldn't handle it anymore, and regardless of the risk, held your hips as he slowly went back to what he was doing, thrusting in and out of you. His teeth sink into his bottom lip, eyes trained on you as you try, very weakly to quietly argue with him about pausing and getting dressed, but before your argument even fully leaves your lips it's cut off with a whimper.

He shushes you, his eyes getting serious the way they sometimes did when something was important to him. One of his hands left your hips to readjust the blanket that was loosely draped over both of your waists and thighs, bringing you a tad of comfort before another, much louder moan, left your lips.

His hand immediately went to your mouth, his teeth clenching as he panted heavily, pressing his face to your neck, sucking another hickey on it, before pulling away to look at you. Your eyes met his for a moment before they rolled back and your spine arched a bit.

"You're getting there, aren't you?" You whispered in your ear, feeling you fall apart for him. "Go ahead," he encouraged. "Just stay quiet." His hand dug further into your hip and another of your whines was absorbed by his hand. "Shhh, quiet," he said again. "You gotta be careful."

You were trying. Honestly.

You could hear his dad throwing boxes around, looking for something and struggling to find it. He pulled your leg up, wrapping it around his waist and the movement, the way you could feel him so much better made another, much louder moan leave your lips.

Clark winced, pressing his face to your neck to muffle himself as his hand pushed harder against your lips. Your hand gripped his wrist tightly and he cursed under his breath. "I know, I know you don't like having your mouth covered, I'm sorry," he apologized, kissing your cheek. "It's just for a little bit."

You shook your head weakly, protesting and he gritted his teeth, his head swimming as he tried to balance too many thoughts at once. His hand left your mouth, two of his fingers pushing past your lips. "Is this better?" He asked, panting against your neck as his fingers pressed down on your tongue, sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag.

The sound made him moan, and he buried his face against your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo for a moment. Your hand dragged down his back, and his head fell, pressing his forehead to your shoulder for a moment.

"That's it," he praised, his fingers sliding in and out of your mouth, exploring it. "So much quieter like this." Some box went thud against the floor below but all he cared about was the feeling of your tongue under the pads of his fingertips as they pushed towards the back of your throat, eliciting little gags from you. He lifted his head, kissing your forehead, your temple, your cheek, your jaw, your neck.

Clark's teeth sink into your shoulder as he reaches his climax, trying to keep himself as quiet as possible by biting down on your flesh, the sharp canine teeth causing you to yelp. His fingers forced their way so far back in your throat you felt like you were choking, but it successfully stole the sound of pain from your mouth.

His teeth left your skin after a moment and he soothed the area with his tongue, before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "You're doing so well for me," he promised you, his fingers messaging your tongue as he felt your body go rigid under him. "Just like that, sweetheart. Keep gagging for me."

The next sound to leave your mouth was the loudest, but once again, his fingers swallowed the noise before it even left your mouth. They scraped the back of your throat, tears pricked in your eyes as you gagged, your entire body tensing up before going completely slack.

His fingers gently slid back out of your mouth and laid his head on your shoulder as his entire weight slowly crushed you. He buried his face in your neck, his hands finding your hair and threading through the locks.

"You're perfect," he mumbles, gently massaging your scalp, pushing your hair around, tangling it. "So damn perfect," he repeated again, out of breath and exhausted as he placed another kiss to your neck.

[sugawhaaa]

BANGCHAN ONE-SHOT

🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖•{Never sleep}•.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷

Warnings//genre:: SMUT, big dick channie, creampie, oral (f rec) face sitting, dick pics 😋, praise, teasing, hair pulling, groping, nipple play

Pairing:: dom!Chan x sub!fem!reader

A/N:: If u couldn't tell I took inspo from my dream last night 😍 also while writing this I listened to a lot of weird songs including gangnam style and sexy and I know it...

Skz masterlist::🍒

🎧::

A few days ago Chan was on tour, cooped up in his little hotel room dreaming of you. He wanted to be with you, feeling your warmth, smelling your scent, and feeling your touch. As he fantasized about his own girlfriend he found a tent forming in his loose jeans and he just couldn't fight it; he pulled down his jeans, palming himself through his boxers before finally setting himself free. He runs his cupped hand around his cock, rubbing softly as he thinks of your small hands, their warmth and sincerity. He lets out a frustrated groan before picking up his phone, opening the camera, and pointing it down to his girth. He takes a clear picture before sending it to you with a little message.

Chan>thinking about you sweetie

The message alone sounds innocent but with the photo his words become lewd. He grins to himself before setting his phone down, knowing that when you wake to see his messages you'll be feeling the same way as he is right now.

Throughout the night he sends many more messages, videos, audios, and photos. The next morning you wake up to at least twenty messages from Chan and as you open the messages your jaw drops. Photos of his cock, videos and audios of him moaning, and a photo of the mess he made of himself before blaming you with a little winky face. You didn't even know how to respond, how does one reply to such a "good morning"?

After those messages, he doesn't message you a whole lot due to being so busy and active around concerts and events. Fast forward to now and he barely just got in through the doorway and he already has his face buried between your legs. He abruptly pulls back and looks up at you, mouth and jaw wet. "Sit on my face," Chan orders as he lays back against the mattress.

"Babe, you just got home though, you haven't even unpacked yet!" You protest but it's too late, Chan has made up his mind and you will sit on him. He grabs your thighs and you lose your balance due to his strength. You get yourself situated on top of him and he gives you know time to prepare for his schemes. He sorts his tongue through your folds as his nose presses up against your clit, his hands situated on your ass, gripping the plump flesh hard. He sucks on your folds hard as his fingers trickle closer to your slit, one teasing around your tight hole. "C-Chan," You gasp softly as his tongue circles around your opening, tongue poking through your slit every now and then.

You hear Chan choking and struggling to breathe but he's insistent on getting you to cum. You release some of your body weight, letting him breathe for a moment, but he instantly brings you back down. You teeter over the edge as he fucks you with his tongue, his thumb stimulating your ass and his nose pressing up against your clit. That numbing warmth rides up your body as your head falls back and your voice is no longer yours to control, only moans. "Chan~" You moan as you grip his head, his mouth never resisting its assault on your core. "'cumming," is the only thing you can muster to say as the pleasure swallows you whole, your legs twitching and body trembling.

Chan can only moan into your core but you can tell by the soothing rubs of his hands on your ass that he is silently praising you. You bring yourself back down to earth and pull yourself off of your helpless boyfriend before looking down at him. His face is red, hair sweaty and face glistening but a grin of approval and lust lingers on his lips. "Sorry," You say softly but Bangchan just laughs.

"For what baby?" He sits up and gets you to sit on his lap.

"I don't know, smothering you?" You chuckle softly at the absurdity of your words but Chan smirks.

"That's exactly what I wanted," He brushes his lips against your jaw, making you moan softly. He slicks your hair to the side before leaving a dark mark on your neck. "What position do you want babygirl? Wanna ride me, or perhaps want me to bend you over the bed and fuck you till you cry, hm?" His voice has a hint of mischeif but you can tell there's a hidden sincerity. "Or maybe both?" He tilts his head before leaning back to hear your response.

"Both sounds good," You blush with a cheeky smile and he smirks.

"Let's see if you can take all of my built up love for you," He chuckles as he unbuckles his belt and undoes his jeans. You assist him in taking off his pants and tossing them aside, leaving his cock standing up against his stomach. "I'll go easy on you at first," He winks as he holds your hips up over his own, lining his cock up with your soaked cunt. You lower yourself onto him, moaning blissfully as his girth stretches out your tender skin. Chan doesn't fail to moan either, his head falling back as his lips part. "Fuck I missed you so much," He grins as he rubs your hips.

He brings his hands over to your ass, lifting softly, encouraging you to move. You do as he silently suggested and roll your hips against his, feeling the head of his cock rubbing up against the deepest point of your pussy. "I'm sorry baby but I can't fucking wait," He groans, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a faint red mark. He encourages you to bounce on his cock and you do just as requested.

"I don't mind, I missed you too," You whine softly as you feel his cock gliding in and out of you rhythmically, your walls tightly hugging his girth. You bring your hands up to his chest, using him as support as you bounce on his cock, your hair jumping with each plummet.

"Good girl," He growls as he intently watches your body. He grabs one of your tits, squeezing the tender flesh as he looks up at you, eyes filled with adoration with lust. "Fuck this pussy was made for me," He grins before sucking your nipple into his mouth, electing a little squeak from you.

"Your cock's so big," You whine as you feel swear accumulating on your body, your skin undoubtedly turning red at this point.

"Yeah? But you take it so fucking good, don't you?" He growls, thrusting his hips up to punctuate his words. You let out a broken cry and the sudden tension forming in your gut from his deep thrust. You nod with a whimper responding to his taunting question. "Look at you, so fucking cute when you're all fucked up like this," He rubs your cheek with a smile, honestly adoring you. "I need to fuck you baby," He blurts out and you pause. "Bend over the bed," He orders and you don't defy in the slightest. You slip off of him before bending over the bed, impatiently waiting for him to unleash his lust on you.

Bangchan looms over you from behind as his cock rubs up against your core. "I'm going to fuck your brains out," He whispers, his words not a threat but more of a promise. And so, he begins. His cock slides into you with ease with a little force, pushing up against that gummy spot, and since the two of you had already been at it, chan doesn't hold back. His hips slap into your ass, the room filling with the lewd sound of your skin clapping and his balls meeting your wet folds. You can't contain your moans, your jaw seemingly locked open as your body bounces with each of his thrusts.

"C-Chan," You whimper, your arms trembling as you try to hold yourself up. Bangchan grabs a messy fistfull of your hair and pulls it back, your head now tilted back as your body jerks up the bed with each pound. You let out a long moan, your eyes rolling back.

"Oh you like that don't you," He growls as he snaps his hips into you. "I'm close baby, gonna unload inside you and you're gonna take it all," He hisses, his words punctuated with his thrusts. Just when you thought it wasn't possible he thrusts faster.

"Fuck! Chan I-I can't!" you cry out.

"Oh but you can baby," He whispers in your ear. "Let it out baby, I can tell your close," His hips never relent as he reassures you. "Your little pussy is clenching around me, just begging to make you snap," He growls as you feel a warm tingle consume your body but you don't even need to announce your orgasm, chan is already well aware. "There it is~" He lets your hair go, knowing that you like to be in control when you cum, or more that you like your own pleasure to control you.

Not long after your body shakes and quivers Bangchan empties inside you as well. His load was big and somehow felt heavy, like he had been holding this release in for a while. When he's finished he lets out an exhausted moan and rests some of his weight on you. "Thank you...I really needed that," He sighs before slipping out and rubbing your swollen folds with his thumb. "Let's get a shower baby," He kisses your back before you stand up beside him. You nod in agreement and he quickly whisks you up, holding you bridal style before carrying you to the bathroom.

[flwrstqr]

✧ ENHYPEN WHEN THEY CHECK YOU OUT ╰—— "𝗂'𝗆 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾"

𝑜𝑓 · 𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⦂ bf!enhypen x f!r 17OOwc. ── est relationship, skinship, slightly suggestive ｡｡ ⠀fluff ✦ 𝓒ATALOGUE ♡ ◞

 DANi : hope you guys enjoy (> <)

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 heeseung’s gaze lingers a little too long, a playful smirk tugging at his lips when he catches you looking back. “what? can’t a guy admire his gorgeous baby?” he teases. his hand finds its way to your waist, thumb brushing lightly against your side as he pulls you a fraction closer. “you know, you’re making it really hard for me to focus when you look this good,” he murmurs. he chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. “seriously, angel, how am i supposed to keep my cool when you’re out here looking like that?” he winks.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 jay’s fingers tap lazily on the steering wheel as he drives, the soft hum of the car filling the space between you. every now and then, you catch him glancing your way, but this time, his gaze lingers longer, shamelessly trailing over your face, down to your lips, and then back up again. “you’re really something else, you know that?” he murmurs, voice low but warm, like it’s a thought that slipped out. his free hand reaches over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the soft brush of his fingers against your skin, “how am i supposed to focus when you’re sitting there looking like that, princess?” he grins, his eyes crinkling just slightly at the corners. the way he looks at you—like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 jake leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you fix your hair in the mirror for the third time. “you’re really trying to knock everyone out tonight, huh?” he teases. when you turn to look at him, he gives an exaggerated whistle, his eyes flickering over your outfit before settling on your face with a mischievous grin. “damn, babe, are you sure you’re not trying to ruin me tonight? ‘cause i don’t think i’ll survive seeing you like this all night.” he pushes off the doorframe and walks over, adjusting the strap of your outfit. “you know,” he adds, tilting his head with a playful smirk, “you might wanna take it easy on the rest of the crowd. i’m already struggling, and they haven’t even seen you yet.”

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 sunghoon’s hand rests on your waist as the two of you wait for the elevator, his thumb absentmindedly brushing against the fabric of your dress. you’re too busy fixing your lip gloss in the reflection of your phone to notice the way his gaze lingers, flickering over you from head to toe. “you’re really trying to make it hard for me to focus tonight, huh?” he says, voice smooth, though the slight hitch at the end betrays him. when you glance up at him, raising an eyebrow, he only smirks, playing it off like he isn’t the least bit affected. “what?” he shrugs, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple. “just saying, baby, you look so good it’s distracting.” the doors open, and he guides you inside.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 sunoo’s gaze is anything but subtle, eyes flickering up and down as a small, mischievous grin tugs at his lips. “looking good, baby,” he hums, leaning in close enough for his breath to tickle your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “you do this on purpose, don’t you?” he teases, tilting his head to get a better look at you, eyes shining with playful affection. his hand slides down to give your fingers a gentle squeeze. “can’t blame me for staring when you look that good,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before pulling away with a wink. “come on, we’ve got places to be — unless you wanna stand here and let me admire you all day.”

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 jungwon notices it before you do — the way a few passing glances linger on you just a little too long. his jaw shifts, but instead of saying anything, he quietly shrugs off his jacket. “here, love,” he says softly, draping it over your shoulders with gentle hands. “not ‘cause you don’t look perfect,” he adds quickly, lips quirking into a small smile as he adjusts the collar for you. “you just look too good, and i’d rather keep that all to myself,” he says with a playful tilt of his head. his fingers brush against your arm before slipping into your hand, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin. “ready to go, pretty girl?” he asks.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 riki leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and a stupid grin plastered on his face as he checks you out. “who are you trying to impress, baby?” he drawls. you roll your eyes, smoothing the fabric down and refusing to meet his gaze. “shut up, riki. maybe i just want to look good for myself.” he chuckles, pushing off the frame and walking over to you, his hands casually resting on your waist. “uh-huh, sure. it’s definitely not for that guy who looked at you last week.” you glare at him through the mirror, smacking his hand lightly. “you’re insufferable.” he just grins wider, dipping his head to brush his nose against your temple. “and yet, here you are, stuck with me. lucky, huh?” you groan, but the warmth in your smile gives you away.

[buckyalpine]

18+ AF Minors dni. Just a lil smutty thought with a scene I imagined. Bucky finds out Tony updated the security system for the compound and upgraded all the cameras to HD quality.

"So what you're saying is that footage would've recorded everything in the kitchen from morning to evening and the middle of the night...everything?" Bucky shuffled by Tony's desk after everyone had left the briefing about the latest Stark tech. Everyone's phones w

"Yes grandpa, that's how a security system works" Tony snorted while Bucky hummed, his mind still wandering.

"Yeah but....everything..in full detail? Including sound?"

"Yes, why, what are you doing in the kitchen" He cocked his head in confusion while the super soldier gave him a blank stare, only blinking twice in response, his cheeks growing redder with each passing second.

"Oh"

"OH"

Bucky scrambled out of the room, leaving behind a cackling Tony, his fingers desperately tapping his phone to unlock and check the security archives. He locked himself in his room, his stomach already churning when he saw the date of the video still very much accessible, dragging his finger to find the exact time-

"FUCK Sergeant!!" Bucky nearly flung the phone, quickly lowering the volume of the video, your loud, slutty moans and fucked out face clear as day. "P-please Sergeant, harder!"

"That's it baby, tell your soldier how you want to get fucked, beg for it"

What had started off as wholesome date night had turned into something else by the time Bucky had you alone in the compound. He'd struggled to keep his hand to himself all night with the dress you were wearing and it didn't help that the waiter at dinner shamelessly flirted with you the entire time. You didn't entertain it but it didn't stop the former assassin from growing jealous, itching to remind you who you belonged to by the end of the night.

You'd gone by the kitchen to grab a glass of water and the sight of you leaning over the counter to fill your cup was enough to break Bucky's resolve. His bedroom could wait.

"Princess" Bucky swallowed thickly hearing his voice dripping with possessiveness, watching himself cage you against the counter, purring in your ear. He could see you shiver as his lips trail up the column of your neck, preening as he licked your skin, pressing his achingly hard erection against your ass.

"B-Bucky" You whimpered, squeaking at the spank he gave you, clicking his tongue.

"Try again, baby"

"Sergeant Barnes" Your voice melted into a moan as he hummed, taking his time slipping your dress up over your hips to give himself a perfect view of your lacy covered cunt.

Bucky fully intended on deleting the video. He was going to highlight the section and get rid of it for good. He desperately tried to ignore the way his cock stirred the longer he watched, unable to tear his eyes off the way you were bent over the kitchen counter like such a good girl, waiting for him to do something.

"That's right. Your Sergeant" The clink of his belt hitting the floor made you whine. He wasn't interested in prepping you, no foreplay, this was pure possessiveness, every vein in his body itching to own you. "You're a little slut for your Sergeant, aren't you princess?"

"M'your slut" you nodded, gasping at the tear of your panties, the lacy material tossed to the side.

"Let me show I fuck my slut" Bucky didn't give you a second to adjust, immediately setting a brutal pace, your hips bumping against the marble countertop.

"S-SERGEANT BAR-NES!-" Bucky slapped his hand over your mouth, your broken screams muffled against his palm.

"Take it" He growled, his other hand pressing against your shoulder blades, purely using you for his pleasure, "You love how your Sergeant fucks you, my perfect little slut, mine"

"Fuck Sergeant!!" You wailed while Bucky snaked his hand to circle your clit, his cock starting to leak at the way you tightened around him. You'd never looked prettier. Your makeup was ruined. Sweat covered your body. Your eyes rolled back. Bucky replayed that part of the video over and over again, finally giving into his heavy cock begging for attention. He gave himself a squeeze hoping it would calm him down but before he knew it, he'd pulled it out and started to tug, precum glistening at the head.

"That's it baby, tell your soldier how you want to get fucked, beg for it"

"Pleasepleaseplease-fill-me" you slurred, unable to form sentences while Bucky's grunts grw louder, his pace faltering.

"Gonna fill you up with so much cum, you'll feel me in your pussy for days princess" Bucky fucked you like an animal, eyes feral as he kept you caged under him, his heavy balls and hard cock ready to blow, "We'll go back to that restaurant. Have that same waiter try and talk to you while I drip out between your legs. Won't even let you wear panties baby, want you to make a mess on their chair, let them see where I marked you, fuck m'cumming!!"

Bucky tightly held the base of his cock to keep from cumming as he watched himself pump you full, hips stuttering. He couldn't cum yet. Not when he knew what was coming up next. He watched himself pull out of you, cooing at your soft little whimper before decidedly acting like a deranged feral fuck again.

"Shhh, let your Sergeant clean you up again" He smirked, picking you up with 0 effort and setting you down on the counter, spreading your legs apart so he could lick up every bit of cum that dripped out of you, the most salacious sounds filling the room. He greedily lapped and sucked at your clit, groaning at the tasted of his spend mixed with yours, loving that no other man would get to taste something so good. No other man would get to watch their cum drip out of you after filling you past the brim. No other man would get to have you at your most sensitive, cleaning every bit of their cum off you with their face buried between their legs-

"F-fuck" Bucky whimpered, quickly biting his lip to shut himself up but it was no use. His chest heaved, breathy moans growing louder as he jerked himself faster. "Yes, yeah, shit-" Bucky was nearly whining at this point, his hand working at his sensitive cockhead, giving himself quick, hard strokes, "OH FUCKK" Thick ropes of cum spilled from his cock, a steady stream making a mess all over his sheets as he continued to touch himself, rewinding the video to the beginning. His hard cock wasn't going to go away anytime soon.

Maybe he wouldn't delete the video just yet.

Later in the groupchat:

Tony: Everyone, please don't check the kitchen footage from two days ago at exactly 1:04 to 1:38

Sam: Why would I check that in the first place

Nat: Wasn't planning on it

Steve: I don't know how to access the footage.

Tony: Trust me. None of you should check that exact time stamp.

Tony: 🙂

*a few minutes later after everyone obviously checked the footage*

Nat: Holy shit.

Sam: BARNES YOU DIRTY DOG

Nat: That's hot

Steve: Tony, I still can't access the footage.

Sam: YALL ARE NASTY

Steve: Who is nasty?

Sam: I love it though

Y/n: 😏He's the best sergeant

Sam: HAHAHA

Nat: You guys are so cute 🥺️🥺️

Bucky: I hate you all

Sam: What you gonna do about it Sergeant

-Bucky has left the chat-

Steve: Why did Bucky leave

[p1astr81]

Hey!!! I totally love all your works and i wanted to req an angsty story bc ya girl loves trauma😭😭😭 so basically reader asks either osc or max (up to u) if they wanna go on a date and since he's not rlly paying attention he jokes that he'd rather spend the time having sex💀 but reader real8ses that they never really defined their relationship and assumes he's just using her and that they're not anything and the driver is totally oblivious to all this lol😭😭 and anyway a while later reader either introduces him as her friend or flirts with someone else in front of him and he gets rlly pissed and jealous??? And they have a fight and she explains everything and he comforts herrrr❤️❤️❤️ amd then later sets up this big cheesy display to actually ask her out loll anyway yeah you ofc don't have to write this if you don't want to but if you do, enjoy❤️

some of you anons are so sweet I love you

decided to do max bc I have so many Oscar works

You chewed on the skin of your finger. Sat next to Max in the hospitality, he was paying more attention to his phone than you. “What do you think about going to dinner Tuesday night?”

A dry sounding laugh. “I’d rather eat you out.”

You blinked at how direct it was. Your fingers tapped against the table. “Okay.” Was all you could manage as your brain ran wild.

He’d turned down a date. Said he’d prefer sex. As you thought about it, there wasn’t really an occasion where he did take you out.

You weren’t even dating. He’d never made if official, never called you his girlfriend or treated you much like one.

Holy shit it’s hit you like a bullet train.

You were just an object for him to use whenever he needed a good fuck. He was using you.

He only looked up from his phone when you walked off. He called after you, asking where you were off to. You didn’t give him an answer.

The restroom stall clicked closed, securing you in the confined space. The thoughts spoke before you could suppress them.

You were nothing to him but a fuck buddy. You meant nothing. You cared for him, but he didn’t care for you. You were just convenient. Only by his side to satisfy his needs. Did he even see you as a person?

Despite being upset by your revelation, you couldn’t resist his advances later that night.

Weeks on, you still couldn’t help yourself, occasionally accepting his late-night booty calls. But you never enjoyed it as much as you used to.

He’d managed to get himself invited as your plus one to your friend’s beach party. No problem, you’d ditched him easily in the large crowd.

You were chatting with one of your friends when a guy approached. Tan skin. Dark, wavy hair. Hypnotic green eyes. Muscled, too. Toned arms and chest.

Oh, shit. You’d been shamelessly checking him out.

“-and this is, y/n.” Your friend introduced, breaking into your thoughts.

“Yeah. Hi.” You chuckled, cheeks burning—and it wasn’t from the heat. “Sorry, what was your name again? I didn’t quite catch it.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, licked your lips.

His laugh was as captivating as he was. “Andreas.” He flashed his teeth.

“Handsome name. Spanish?” You guessed.

He nodded. “Only the name is handsome?”

Your friend had left the scene. When, you weren’t sure. But she was no longer stood by your side. Your eyes explored his body again. “You’re not terrible looking.” You shrugged.

He laughed again. “And you are gorgeous.” He stepped forward. “Are you seeing anyone?”

You shrugged. “Nothing serious.”

Before he could say anything, an arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you. “What’s going on here?” The Dutch accent was plain enough. You didn’t have to look to know it was Max, or know that he was fuming.

“Oh! Andreas, this is my friend Max! Max, Andreas.”

“Oh! Verstappen, right? Man, this is incredible, it’s nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.

Max eyed the outstretched offer and laughed humorlessly. “Yeah.” He muttered before dragging you off.

“Wha- Max! Hey-!” You stumbled after him, struggling to find footing in the uneven sand. “Where are we going?”

“Home!”

You scoffed. “Incase you forgot, we don’t live together.”

He ignored you.

“Max! Let me at least say bye it’s rude to-“

“Fine.” He spat the words like venom, still gripping onto your hand.

You led him this time, over to where your friend stood. You apologized to your friend, wished her happy birthday yet again, and bade her goodbye.

The car ride back to Max’s home was silent but tense. He glanced over at you every few seconds. You kept your eyes on the streets outside.

“What the hell was that?” He accused as the door boomed closed.

You sighed. “What was what?”

“You fucking-“ he scoffed like he’d processed your question mid sentence. “-you were fucking flirting with someone else! In front of a near hundred people!”

You threw yourself on the couch, taking up the entirety of it. Another sigh. You were in no mood for his theatrics nor to entertain them. “And why does that matter to you?”

A singular laugh of disbelief. He marched right over, standing by your side. No matter, your eyes were on the ceiling anyway. “Because you’re with me!” He cried in outrage.

Uninterested, you turned your head. Slow. “Am I now?” You raised your brows.

His jaw dropped. Silence. And then a quiet question. “Are you fucking serious?”

Sat up too quickly, your head spun momentarily. Your brows furrowed. “You have only ever paid attention to me when you want my fucking body!” Your calmness had shattered, replaced by the pent up rage of the last few weeks. You got to your feet. “You only take me to races and then pose me as your girlfriend because it’s convenient for you. The only reason I exist in your life is to please you.” Your finger jabbed in his chest with every point. “And you have no right to claim that I’m with you because we have never been on a single fucking date! Not in the five months you’ve been fucking me. I even asked you about going out to dinner and you told me you’d rather have sex.” You scoffed. The hot tears flowing down your face only became known to you when you turned away.

The back of your hand lay flat on your forehead as you took a shaky breath. You whipped around, a weak arm motioning to him. “You… I thought I meant something to you. For the longest time I-“ you choked, shrugged. “Stupid me.”

Max stood. Stunned. Speechless.

He never saw it as you had. Never thought of you as just a fuck-buddy or someone he uses to please himself. Girlfriend, he wasn’t sure if that was the word. Wasn’t ever sure if you even wanted that kind of label. But definitely dating—if there was even a difference between the two. He thought inviting you to races and ordering room service were considered dates. He thought you weren’t into lavish dinners and preferred quiet nights in. Clearly, he was an idiot.

And he told you as much, nearly word for word.

Again, you found the couch. Max sat beside you. “Evidently, we’re both terrible at communicating.” You gave a weak laugh.

“We can be better now, though.”

He had it all laid out. Your favorites scattered around his flat. Dinner plated by candlelight. Dessert on a crystal platter in the kitchen. A projector set up in the living room, prepared to display your favorite movie. Pillows and blankets lined the sofa to make it more comfortable.

And he stood in his nicest tuxedo—potentially too fancy, but it would make his point.

The front door creaked open, and in came you. In sweats and shocked. “Max what is this?” You chuckled. “What are you wearing?”

Your eyes glanced around the room, sparkling in the candlelight. A lavish display. So unlike the Max you knew, but not unappreciated.

He sported a nervous smile. “I’ve been stupid. And I want to correct that.” He pulled out a vase of your favourite flowers and held them out to you. “Will you be my girlfriend?” His voice shook, as did his hand.

You smiled softly, sheepishly. Took slow steps until you reached him. You stared at the flowers. At him. “I can’t tell if I’m underdressed or if you’re overdressed.”

“You’re overdressed. Too many clothes, I think you should take them off.” He grinned. Your brows shot up. “Sorry. Sorry. I- fuck, right.” He cleared his throat. “You look gorgeous.”

You smiled and shook your head. On your tip toes, you kissed his cheek. “Yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

[fayelero]

ⓘ 01. THE WAY THAT YOU SEE YOURSELF

⤷ ANGST ﹫ timeskip!kenma kozume x fem!reader ﹫ established relationship ﹫ be ready to cry :)

-> part.2

⚠︎ cyber bullying, emotional distress (reader), mental health struggles, eating disorders (throwing up), heavy themes, strong emotions, cursing, heavy insults, you’re gonna cry .ᐟ.ᐟ

You still remember the stream like it was yesterday.

Kenma had pulled you gently into frame, eyes soft beneath the warm glow of the LED lights in his setup. He smiled, shy but proud.

“This is my girlfriend,” he’d said, rubbing the back of his neck with that same familiar awkwardness. “Be nice to her.”

At the time, it had felt like a dream. You were glowing with love and disbelief. Kenma—your Kenma—was introducing you to millions of his fans. Your face was warm with the thought, your heart thudding loud in your ears. You’d looked at him, smiled nervously, and waved to the camera.

The chat had exploded.

He’d chuckled.

“Okay, okay. We’ll play now,” he’d said, dismissing the tsunami of reactions with a lighthearted grin.

He didn’t see it.

Not what came after.

It started small.

A comment here and there on your Instagram posts. A DM.

“Who the hell are you?”

“She’s not even cute lol.”

You’d laughed it off at first. But they didn’t stop. They didn’t forget. You were no longer just “some girl.” You were Kenma’s girlfriend. And to them, that meant you were someone to tear apart.

The hate grew like rot beneath the surface.

“You don’t deserve him.”

“Pig.”

“Go kill yourself.”

And it wasn’t just the words. It was the way they dissected you. Your smile. Your clothes. Your hair. Your body. Every post you made was swarmed. Every picture was analyzed, compared to some ideal they had crafted for the man you loved.

Kenma didn’t know.

He didn’t see.

Because it wasn’t on his streams. It wasn’t in his mentions.

It was you. Your phone. Your DMs. Your world that was growing darker.

You told yourself not to care. You told yourself they were just kids, strangers, faceless names with too much time.

But at night, in bed, you scrolled.

Your fingers trembled.

Your stomach turned.

And eventually, you changed.

You stopped posting pictures of yourself. You started dressing differently—trying to look more like the girls they praised in his fan edits. You painted your face carefully, calculatingly. You skipped meals. Told yourself it wasn’t a big deal.

Kenma would smile at you, kiss your temple. He had no idea.

He still looked at you like you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. And so you acted. Played the part. You’d hold his hand tighter in public just to make yourself believe it. Laugh a little louder. Smile a little harder.

But the truth was, you were drowning. Quietly. Alone.

Sometimes you’d cry in the shower, biting your knuckles to muffle the sound. Other times you’d stare at your reflection, confused.

Who was this girl?

Where was the one who used to sing in the kitchen, who used to smile without checking a mirror first?

She was gone.

Buried beneath thousands of hateful words. Words from people who had never met you. Who didn’t know that Kenma loved how you always brought him tea without asking, or how you stayed quiet when he streamed, or how you understood when he needed silence. They didn’t know how he reached for you in his sleep. How he whispered “I love you” even when half-awake.

They didn’t want to know.

And now, you didn’t even want to look at yourself.

The worst part wasn’t even the hate.

It was pretending.

You didn’t want Kenma to worry. He worked so hard. He was building something beautiful—his own world—and you were supposed to be the lucky one invited in. You didn’t want to be the crack in the foundation.

So you smiled. Always smiled.

It was the beginning of the end.

But Kenma wasn’t stupid.

He just didn’t know what he was looking at.

But he knew you were not okay.

It had started subtly—like hairline cracks in glass. Imperceptible at first, something most people would walk past without noticing. But he wasn’t most people. And you weren’t just someone.

You were you.

The you who used to giggle half-asleep when he snuck behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. The you who wore his hoodies and danced barefoot in the kitchen. The you who told him you hated pineapple on pizza with the passion of a full-blown warrior.

That you hadn’t disappeared. Not all at once. That would have been easier.

No—she faded. Quietly.

At first, he thought you were just tired. You’d yawn more, sleep in. He’d offer to cancel a stream to spend the day together and you’d insist you were fine, just wanted to rest. It made sense. You were busy too. Life was heavy sometimes.

But then… other things began to happen.

He remembered the vase.

It was a plain thing, honestly—ugly, even. Some cheap, tacky glass piece his fans had gifted him years ago. He only kept it because he felt guilty throwing it away. You had knocked it off the shelf by accident while dusting and it shattered into a million pieces on the hardwood floor.

You stood there frozen for half a second—and then you crumpled.

You had cried. Not sniffled. Sobbed.

Ten minutes. Ten long, gutting minutes. He had rushed over, confused, concerned, arms wrapped around you as you kept saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—God, I’m so stupid, I’m sorry—”

Kenma didn’t care about the vase.

He’d told you that again and again, even while he held you, smoothing your hair. But you kept apologizing, kept shaking, like you were trying to make yourself disappear.

And when your tears stopped, you wiped your face and told him it was “just hormones,” laughed a little like it was a joke. Like it hadn’t scared the hell out of him.

Like you weren’t breaking in front of him.

That was the first moment he realized something was wrong. Not just off. Wrong.

After that, he watched more closely.

Your smiles weren’t quite the same. Too quick. Too bright. They didn’t reach your eyes the way they used to. Sometimes, you’d smile before he even finished a sentence, like you were anticipating it. Like a reflex. A cover.

And when he streamed, you’d avoid the camera.

You used to love popping in—bringing him snacks, waving at the chat, kissing his cheek to make him blush. It was your little routine. He never asked you to do it. You wanted to.

Now? You barely entered the room when he was live. And when you did, it was only to leave something silently on his desk and slip away. He noticed the way your eyes flicked toward the screen, and the way your shoulders tightened like you were bracing for something. He just didn’t know what.

He should have asked.

He should have insisted.

But you kept saying you were okay. So he believed you.

Because he wanted to.

Still… the signs piled up.

The nights were the worst. You started waking up at strange hours, always with an excuse. Your footsteps down the hall. The bathroom door closing softly. Water running. Toilet flushing.

Then the silence.

He followed once. Quietly. Listened outside the door.

He heard it.

You throwing up. Gagging. Then coughing and breathing like you were trying to steady yourself. You ran the faucet again—he guessed to drown out the sound.

When you came back to bed, he was still awake. You’d crawled in beside him like nothing happened.

“Sick again?” he asked, gentle.

“Mhm,” you hummed, turning your back to him. “Must’ve been the sushi.”

You said it so easily. So casually. Like it hadn’t happened the night before. And the night before that. Like he was imagining the pattern.

He reached out, touched your back softly. “Maybe we should go to the doctor…”

“No need,” you interrupted. “I’m fine. Probably just a bug.”

Kenma stared at the ceiling long after you fell asleep.

You weren’t fine.

You hadn’t been fine in weeks. Maybe months. But every time he reached out, you retreated. Laughed it off. Shrugged him away. And he—idiot that he was—let you.

Because he was scared. Scared of pushing you too hard. Scared of being wrong. Scared that if he said the wrong thing, whatever this was would get worse.

But it was already getting worse.

You barely ate at dinner. You never asked him to take pictures with you anymore. You didn’t talk about your day unless he pulled it out of you word by word. And the way you looked at yourself in the mirror—he noticed that too. The pause. The silence. The frown.

You’d stopped singing.

He didn’t say it out loud, but he missed your voice.

One night, you stood in the bathroom in nothing but your underwear, brushing your hair out in the mirror. Kenma leaned against the doorway, watching you.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly.

You didn’t even look up. “Thanks.”

Not “thank you”. Not “you too.”

Just thanks. Flat. Distant.

It made his chest ache.

And still, when he reached for you, you leaned into him. Let him kiss you. Let him hold you like he was the only thing tethering you to the earth. You let him love you like he always did.

But you didn’t love you. And he could feel that now.

You were fading in his arms.

That night, he didn’t sleep. Just stared at the ceiling, wide-eyed.

He didn’t know how long he could do this—watch you disappear and pretend not to notice. But he also didn’t know what to do. He’d never been good with emotions, with people. He was the one who stayed quiet in the back while others took the spotlight.

But now the spotlight was killing you.

And you wouldn’t let him turn it off.

The scariest part?

He didn’t know what would happen first.

That you’d finally tell him what was going on.

Or that one day, he’d wake up—and you’d be gone.

Not in the physical sense. No. But gone in the way that mattered most.

And that terrified him more than anything.

—

Kenma couldn’t sleep.

Again.

You were curled up beside him in the dark, your breathing light and even. From the outside, it looked peaceful. But Kenma knew better now. He knew it was an illusion—just like the smiles you gave him, just like the way you said “I’m fine” when you were clearly not.

He stared at the ceiling until his eyes burned.

He couldn’t do it anymore.

He was angry. Not at you—never at you. But at himself. At the silence. At how long he had let this go on. He’d noticed the signs, all of them, and he still hadn’t done anything.

He didn’t want to confront you. Not if it meant making you retreat even further.

But tonight, the helplessness had crawled so deep into his chest it felt like it was eating him alive.

He had to know.

He needed to see it.

Whatever it was that had hollowed you out like this.

So, with trembling hands and guilt tightening his throat, he turned slowly toward your sleeping figure, careful not to wake you. Your phone rested on your bedside table, screen dim, innocuous. Innocent.

But it wasn’t.

He picked it up.

Every second of it felt wrong. He hated going through your things. Hated the invasion of it. But god, he loved you too much to care. He’d break a thousand promises if it meant saving you.

He unlocked the screen with your fingerprint—you had given it to him months ago, jokingly, so he could queue music while you cooked.

He never thought he’d use it like this.

He checked your texts. Nothing out of the ordinary. DMs on Twitter—mostly muted. Barely any responses. You didn’t talk to anyone.

Then he opened Instagram.

And the world collapsed beneath him.

Your inbox was full. Not with friends. Not with kind words.

But with poison.

“Slut.”

“Pig.”

“Who paid you to pretend to be with him?”

“Why are you still alive?”

“Lmao she thinks she’s his type? Has she seen herself?”

“You’re ruining his brand.”

“You don’t deserve him. You’re dirt.”

It was endless.

Message after message, comment after comment, posts and story replies, group DMs you’d been added to just so they could tear you apart.

Kenma stared at the screen. Scrolling. Scrolling. Not blinking. Not breathing.

Your followers had tripled since he introduced you on stream a year ago. But it wasn’t love. It was a target they wanted. Someone to ruin.

And they had.

You hadn’t just changed.

You were being destroyed.

And he hadn’t fucking seen it.

His fingers were trembling, the screen a blur of hate and cruelty. He felt sick. He wanted to scream.

And then—he didn’t want to scream.

He wanted them to hear him.

To see what they had done.

Without thinking, without a plan, without even wiping his eyes, Kenma stormed into his streaming room. He sat down, headset on. Pressed “Start Broadcast.” It was past 2am. No notification. No schedule.

And yet… within minutes, the chat lit up.

“Wtf??”

“Is he okay?”

“Emergency stream??”

“Kodzuken??”

He didn’t speak at first.

He stared into the camera, eyes red, expression unreadable. His hands were folded on the desk. His jaw clenched.

The silence stretched. The comments piled in.

And then, finally—he spoke.

Voice cold. Low. Razor sharp.

“I wasn’t planning on streaming tonight. I wasn’t planning on talking at all. But I just found out what some of you have been doing.”

The chat slowed.

A pause. Confusion.

“To her.”

A single sentence.

And the shift in tone was immediate.

“You know who I mean. You all know.”

He didn’t blink.

“You looked me in the eye while tearing her apart behind my back. You called yourselves fans. You said you supported me. But what you actually did… was destroy the one person I care about more than anything in this world.”

His voice broke slightly—but only for a second. He cleared his throat.

“She didn’t tell me. I had to find out by going through her phone while she was asleep. You did that to her. You made her hide it. You made her feel ashamed of being with me. Of existing.”

The chat was chaos. Apologies. Excuses. Confusion.

He ignored them all.

“I saw everything. Every message. Every comment. Every threat. Every time you told her to kill herself. Every time you called her a pig. Every time you said she was dragging me down.”

“Let me be very clear.”

He leaned in.

“You didn’t just hurt her. You hurt me. You stole her smile. You took away her laugh. The woman I love—the only person who ever made me feel like more than a screen name—you broke her. And I let you.”

He exhaled, shaking.

“So this isn’t a brand. This isn’t a game. This is my life. And if you think for one second I’d ever forgive you for what you’ve done, for what you’ve taken from her—from us—you’re not a fan. You’re a parasite.”

He paused again. The chat had slowed. Silent. Some still begged forgiveness. Others left.

“She was happy before you. She was whole. Now she cries in secret. Now she throws up in the middle of the night and tells me it’s nothing. And I believed her. I fucking believed her.”

He sat back, face pale, knuckles white.

“I’m not playing anymore. You either support both of us, or you don’t support me at all. Ever again. No more middle ground. No more pretending you didn’t know. No more looking away while she drowns.”

“You killed her spirit.”

Another pause. He looked down. Voice quieter.

“And I’m not sure I’ll ever get her back.”

Then he looked into the camera one last time.

“Stream’s over.”

Click.

Silence.

Kenma sat there, headset off, chest heaving. The tears finally fell—slow, quiet. He wiped them away with the sleeve of his hoodie.

He didn’t care about the fallout. About the fans he just lost. About the hate he might get now.

None of it mattered.

Because you were in the next room, sleeping through it all, unaware of the war he just declared on your behalf.

Unaware that he had finally seen what they had done.

Unaware that he was done watching you disappear.

And now—he would burn the whole world before letting it happen again.