seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from Belgium
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
Just getting cozzzyyyy
just friends
pairing: Nerd!Bucky x Roommate!Reader wc: +10k summary: After finding your roommate in a compromising situation, you volunteer to give him a hand… and a mouth, kickstarting the most tumultuous semester in your friendship with a sexual benefits deal; wisely, some rules were established. But would those rules be enough to keep you just friends? a/n: Part of Midterms & Metal Arms A College AU Marathon. Beta read by @buckysdecaflove, @w1nter-fairy, and @kileyking. warnings/tags: College/University AU, Nerd Bucky Barnes, Roommates to FWB to Lovers, no use of y/n, smut, secret crush, accidental voyeurism, Bucky calls reader Bunny, grinding, masturbation, use of sex toy, oral sex, sexual free use, breast fucking, thighs fucking, praise kink, eventual p in v, breeding kink, crossposted on ao3, english is not my first language.
Read on AO3 | Collab Masterlist | AO3 Collection | Navigation
The commute from the building where your last lecture was held to your off-campus department was 25 minutes on a regular day using your bike. In Bucky’s case, he took 15 minutes due to his way of driving his restored car.
You knew that.
Your roommate knew that.
That knowledge made it easier to predict when the other would arrive at the apartment. It helped to avoid awkward encounters, like the time he had found you making out and half naked, with your classmate on the couch. Or when you saw him butt-naked as he got out of the shower because he had forgotten his towel in his room.
The only flaw in this?
Yelena.
Yelena, your classmate and best friend, had started seeing a girl who lived near you. This meant that she could drive you home on her way to meet with her new fling.
The day that changed everything had been one of those days. Your lecture would be cut short, and Yelena had been texting Kate as soon as the professor had announced that the class would wrap up early. Leaving at that hour meant less traffic, and to your luck, every traffic light had been green.
“Is this our lucky day? Should we buy a lottery ticket?” Yelena exclaimed after the third green light.
Inside your building, your luck continued because Mrs. Park held open the elevator for you the moment you crossed the front door.
You arrived at your door 10 minutes before your class usually ended. You had just opened your mouth to let out your usual “Hey, Buck” to announce your arrival when you heard it.
A moan coming from down the hall.
You widened your eyes; your keys slipped from your grip, landing on the rug with a dull noise. You knelt to pick them up, eyes scanning the living room frantically.
You noticed Bucky’s books were scattered over the dining table. His reading glasses were there, forgotten by his economics book. A single can of soda was near it.
There was no sign of any other person inside the apartment.
Another moan.
You should have turned around and left, given him the privacy he needed, and come back later. But you didn't. You stood up, and with your keys in hand, you padded silently down the hallway to your room.
The door of his room was slightly open as you passed.
More whimpering, followed by a curse.
You should have ignored it, continued your path, and hid in your room. Instead, you froze, turning to the source of the noise.
Spread over his bed, Bucky was lying down over his covers; his sweatpants and boxers were rolled down to his knees, and his shirt was forgotten on the floor. His fist was gliding up and down his cock, neck exposed as he pushed his head back. His eyes were closed, mouth open, letting every whimper out freely.
Heat pooled in your stomach, your breath turned shallow and rapid as you watched him jerk off.
This was wrong.
You shouldn't be standing there, watching him, and much less getting worked up because of it.
He was your roommate. Your friend. Bucky wasn't even your type for fucks sake — he wasn't an athlete, with a chiseled body comparable to a Greek statue; he wasn't the most confident man out there either, smugly flirting with every skirt with legs.
Bucky was a textbook nerd. Always with his nose buried in a book, a cute stuttering mess, he triggered your cute aggression, not the I want to climb you like a tree and bounce on your cock type of aggression.
“Please, please —ngh,” He begged, tearing up.
You didn't know why you did it, but hearing his pleas broke your control. Carefully, you crept into his room until you were standing a few feet away from the foot of the bed.
In bed, his phone went off with an alarm he had set up before he had fallen into his lust. He reached his hand blindly, turning the alarm off, lost in whatever fantasy he had conjured behind his closed eyes.
You’ll be home in 10 minutes.
“Fuck, I need to — ah, please.”
“Do you need help?” You said softly, in the same tone you always used with him. Warm. Open. Sweet.
His eyes snapped open, finding you standing near him. Your name left his lips, neediness laced with each letter.
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't — You're here early, you were supposed to…” He stuttered, covering his dick with his hand and reaching behind him to take a cushion.
“I can help you.” Your tote bag, filled with books, landed on the rug next to your feet with a thud, and your keys followed. He froze. “You said you needed something.”
His throat bobbed.
“Bunny…”
He said your nickname, the one he had started using after he had met you at Yelena’s birthday party in your first semester. You had been wearing a last-minute costume — white bunny ears with a simple white short dress — because your original one had gotten ruined early that day. Bucky had been hiding out on the second floor, nursing a can of beer and hoping that his friends wouldn't find him after dragging him to the party already. Since he couldn't register your name over the loud music, he had called you Bunny the entire party. From there, it had stuck.
“Tell me, Bucky. What do you need?”
“I—” He shook his head.
You tutted. “House rules, remember? Hmm? Always be honest with each other. Tell me.”
“I need… I need to cum. So bad…”
“Thank you for telling me.” You placed a knee on the mattress between his legs, and slowly, you climbed the bed. “Now, let me help you.”
“Bunny.” He whimpered when you removed his hand from his crotch.
“Let me. That's what friends do, right? Help each other out. Always.” You said, tracing your fingers along his leg, getting higher and higher. “Can I?”
“Bunny…”
“Bucky.”
“Please.”
You smiled, and then moved your hand over his length; his cock twitched in respond of your touch, beads of pre cum leaked out of his reddish tip.
“Tell me if you want me to do anything different, okay?”
He nodded, but he was still tense.
“Hey, you can close your eyes and imagine I’m someone else; I don't mind. This is just to help you finish.”
Bucky took a deep breath and threw his head back, closing his eyes. You leaned in, taking his cock in your hands; you began peppering kisses on its tip. Bucky moaned in response.
You dragged your tongue along the vein on its underside, and then you guided it into your mouth.
Bucky cursed, digging his hands into the mattress.
You bobbed your head up and down, slowly taking him inch by inch until you could take most of him into your mouth comfortably.
Bucky was big, with a girth that made your pussy clench in wonder at how it would feel inside you, stretching you until you were a babbling mess.
“Shit, I’m close.”
You hummed with him still in your mouth, agreeing with him since you could feel him throbbing. His hips jerked up in search of the warmth of your mouth; you increased your movements, your hands giving attention to his balls and stroking the rest of his cock.
“Bunny, bunny, I’m…” He groaned, and for the first time, he reached his hand to tap your shoulder.
You removed your mouth with a pop, and kept stroking him as you said: “It’s okay, you can finish in my mouth.”
Before Bucky could reply, you took him into your mouth again and down your throat until your nose touched his pubic bone. Tears gathered in your eyes at the intrusion, but you didn't care; you kept bobbing your head until he spilled inside your mouth with your name on his lips.
You kept sucking him until you swallowed the last drop of his seed, and he was too overwhelmed after who knows how much time he had been working himself up. You took him out of your mouth, feeling him softening in your palm as his breath steadied.
Once you were on your feet, you knelt down to take your stuff up and took his shirt with your hand. When he opened his eyes, he saw you wiping the fabric of his shirt on your mouth, cleaning every remaining fluid from your face. Then you turned around and walked to the door.
“Bunny, wait!” He rushed to put his boxers and sweats back on.
You looked at him over your shoulder, “Yes?”
“You can't go.” You raised a brow.
“You needed to cum, and you did. I helped you out, didn't I?”
“Yes, you did. But, don't you want to… talk about it?”
Even if his skin was all flushed, his pupils still blown, and his clothes were poorly on him, he looked at you with pure worry.
You smiled fondly at him. “We are friends, Bucky. Nothing has to change.”
“You sure?”
“Positive, now… can I go?”
He exhaled in relief. “Yes, you can. Thank you, Bunny.”
“Any time.” You grabbed the door to close it. “It’s your turn to cook dinner, by the way.”
“Right! Uh, pasta? My mom’s recipe?”
“God, yes, please. I’ll take a shower in the meantime; see you in a bit.” You closed the door behind you after hearing his goodbye and then rushed to your room.
Luckily for you, your room had its own bathroom, away from the door that led to the hallway, which meant that while Bucky cooked dinner, he didn't hear you masturbating in your shower under the sound of the running water.
Even if you tried to push the memory into a box and forget it in the back of your mind, you couldn't avoid replaying the scene in his room, nor the way he had moaned your name as he came. And you definitely ignored the way you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning his name as you fucked yourself with your fingers.
Once you were satisfied and clean, you left your room wearing your pajamas. During dinner, things were a little bit awkward, but it slowly got better as you fell into your familiar dynamic. He yapped about his next exam, and you ranted about your lecture that day. The conversation moved to the kitchen, as both cleaned before going back into your rooms.
You and Bucky just clicked together; you had done so since you met. Living together, even if it had been by pure luck — a month into your friendship, you had ranted that your landlord had raised your rent, and he had confessed he was looking for a place off campus; it had been a no-brainer to accept becoming roommates — had amped that. As the months and years progressed, you had gotten to a point where you understood each other and knew exactly what the other needed without the need for words.
He knew when you were stressed and needed silence, reassurance, or when you needed space. But he also knew when you were feeling homesick and needed a hug or a cuddle.
Two days after you gave him a blowjob, you learned that he also knew when you were needy and how to make you cum in record time.
You had been lying on the couch, reading a book on your e-reader after you had been stressing out over an exam. Bucky looked at you from his spot on the other end of the couch, where he had been playing a game on his phone.
“Everything okay there?” He asked, looking at you up and down.
You swallowed, shifting your legs again. “Yeah, why did you ask?”
“Bunny, house rules.” He rolled his eyes and put his phone on the coffee table.
“I'm not lying.” You scoffed.
“You are. You had been sitting there for the past five minutes, rubbing your legs together, and sighing like you're out of a romantic soap opera.” Bucky grinned. “Oh, my lovely Bunny, what are you reading? Is it one of those smutty books of yours?” he wiggled his eyebrows.
“Shut up.” You attempted to kick him with your leg, but he grabbed you by your ankle, stopping you from hitting him.
“You are.” His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. “Are you horny, Bunny?”
You shut up, locking eyes with him as he angled his body towards you.
“Do you need help with that?” He lowered his voice.
“With what?” You croaked, mouth dry.
“To get off. I can return the favor right now.” His fingers, that had been wrapped around your ankle, moved up, stroking your leg. “Besides, you know what happens when you orgasm. How the neurotransmitters that are released when you climax help you reduce your stress, sleep better, and help you relax — we share a wall, Bunny. I can hear you on the other side, still up in the middle of the night.” He called you out.
He continued moving his hand up your thigh until his fingertips grazed the hem of your shorts.
You didn't stop him.
“So, can I? You can imagine it's one of the characters of that book… You can keep reading it while I taste you.”
“You’re joking. Making fun of what I said and did that day.” You huffed and shifted your eyes away from him.
He shook his head. “It's just me. We're just friends, right? Helping each other out. I love helping you, you know that.”
You met his eyes again and then nodded, “Okay, make me cum.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He joked and then positioned himself between your legs. “Go back to your book; you can even read it out loud. Guide me if you want to try something out.”
“Shut up.” You chuckled, and then returned your eyes to the screen.
Bucky grabbed the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down your thighs until they were dangling off your ankle. He leaned in and started kissing your now exposed skin until he was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath and his nose bumping over your panties.
You kept reading, pressing your lips together to avoid making a sound. He kissed over your panties, and then he removed them. The first drag of his tongue made you open your mouth in a silent cry.
Bucky held you open; his hands were under your hip, in full control of the angle. You had been wet as you read your book, wondering if the main character in your book would be a whimpering mess like Bucky was as the female character rides him; now you were dripping, clenching around nothing, begging in your mind to be fucked on your couch.
No.
No.
It's the hormones talking. I'm just horny.
Having his dick inside you would be too much. If the line in your friendship had blurred, penetration would mean total erasure. But to be honest, it wasn't as if his dick wouldn't be doing something much different than what his tongue was doing right now.
Oh God, where had he learned to do that?
“Fuck, Bucky.” You groaned. Loudly. Throwing your head back.
Bucky removed his head from between your thighs to stare at you when he heard your e-reader hit the ground.
“Is something wrong? Want me to stop or change something?”
You looked at him as if he had grown another head out of his neck, and with your hands, you pushed back between your legs.
“Shut up. Keep doing that. Don't stop.” You panted, treading your fingers in his hair as your hips jerked against his mouth. He lapped his tongue over your sensitive clit, alternating with sucking it and shaking his head to add more depth to his attacks. “Oh fuck, mmm, yes, yes, Bucky, that's so good.”
He shifted, sinking his knees on the couch. Then he grabbed your legs and placed them over his shoulders; after that, he pulled your hips up, half-strengthening his back. He pressed your thighs together against his face, suffocating himself.
The new angle made you gasp; you braced yourself on the arm of the couch. You were now openly mewling. Your loud moans were barely overpowered by the obscene sound of his mouth on you.
You came not too long after that, panting and with your legs trembling over his shoulders. Before he let you down, he grazed his teeth with a playful bite and then kissed the spot.
Your breath was still ragged when you accepted his bottle of water that he had offered. You took a sip of water and then looked back at him.
“Why the fuck did Dot break up with you if you could do that?” You asked, stunned.
He had the decency of looking shy, scratching the back of his neck.
“She broke up with me because I wasn't very social, you know me; she wanted me out with her every single week to a party, and that drains me too much. I can only handle too much socialization.” He explained with a shrug.
“What an idiot, believe me, I’d have compromised my social life if my amazing boyfriend could make me cum as hard as you just made me do. And with only your tongue!” You exclaimed as you put back your underwear and shorts. You would have to run back to your room to take a shower and change in a minute because the stickiness between your legs would drive you crazy.
He took a thrown pillow and hit the side of your leg. “Shut up, Bunny!”
You snorted. “I’m serious. I already knew she had lost a great guy; this just adds more stupidity on her side.”
“Thank you, I suppose.” He blushed.
“Just take the compliment, Buck. It's house rules.” You returned the hit with the thrown pillow and ran to your room, squealing and dodging another hit from him.
The agreement was made that same week, officially getting added to the house rules. You would help him take the edge off, and he would help you, too. Easy. Efficient. Complete trust and free use in the apartment unless stated otherwise.
There was one catch, though: no penetration, no kissing. You were friends at the end of the day, and you didn't want to mess that up.
So you let him do everything else, except put his cock inside you.
He would fuck your tits after hitting a wall while doing an essay, eyes closed as he fought the urge to come on the spot at the sight of your glistening skin and your eyes looking up at him as you pushed your tits together. He had made the mistake of looking down the other day, and after batting your eyelashes to him in an oh-so-innocent way, you had put your tongue out just as he pushed in and took an experimental kitten lick over his tip. He had come in that moment, painting your face and tits with his seed. Laughing, you had continued stroking him until he was overstimulated.
One particular time that you had been stressing because your teammates were useless, you were ranting about it with him sitting next to you after you had finished eating dinner while watching a series.
“Do you wanna forget about it?” Bucky asked after you had finished ranting, and he had already tried to cheer you up, given you his advice, and even offered to help you with your project.
“Please.” You sighed.
“How do you need me?” He asked.
“Just stay still.” You said, climbing into his lap.
“I can do that.”
“And stay quiet.” You added, narrowing your eyes.
“Oh, I thought you liked it when I talk dirty. I felt you clench on my fingers when I talked like that and when I praised you.”
You slapped his chest. “Since when are you this smug? What did you do to my best friend?”
“Since you complimented my oral skills.” His grin widened.
You rolled your eyes.
“What? You had been trying since we met to boost my confidence; it's finally working.”He said, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “Take the win, Bunny.”
“Fine, you can talk. Can I hump you now?”
“I’m all yours.”
You chuckled and braced your hands at each side of his head, grabbing the back of the couch.
You rolled your hips, feeling him getting hard under you.
“Fuck, Bunny, why do I feel this is helping me more than it's doing for you?”
“Believe me, it is helping.” You whimpered with eyes closed, leaning towards him. “So much.” Your voice cracked.
“You’re doing so well.” He praised.
“Thanks for the help, Bucky.” You huffed a laugh.
“I can help you even more, if you want.”
You straightened your back and stared down at him. “How?”
Bucky guided his hands and grabbed the hem of his your oversized shirt, taking it off and leaving you half naked, since your bra had been removed earlier that day.
“I can put my oral skills to use.” He cupped your breast and guided your nipple to his mouth, just brushing his lips against it. “I’ve been wanting to give them the attention they deserve since I noticed how… sensitive they are.”
With the tip of his tongue, he circled your nipple, keeping eye contact with you. You stared down at him, biting your lip to hide your smile, shaking your head slightly at his smug behavior.
You liked it.
Confidence suited him well.
He blew air over your wet skin. “Keep going, Bunny.”
You whined when he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking at it while playing with his tongue over it. You leaned into him and continued dry-humping him.
“Turn around.” He ordered after a few minutes.
“Huh?”
“You still have that frown on your face; you're still thinking about it. Let me help you.”
You sighed and then turned onto his lap, his hard cock snuggled under your ass.
“What now?”
He placed his hands on your waist and pulled you to him. “Lean back, Bunny.” You did so, until your back hit his chest, and your head could rest over his shoulder. “Now relax.” He kissed your naked shoulder.
He returned his attention to your breast, alternating to not leave any too long neglected. With his other hand, he traced lazy figures on your navel and, slowly, oh so painfully slowly, he guided his hand under your clothes.
Your hips jolted at the feeling of his fingers grazing your clit.
“Open your legs, let me touch you.” He mumbled in the shell of your ear, and you complied, spreading your legs over his, his knees under you, locking you in place. “That’s it, good Bunny.”
You whimpered, responding to each movement of his fingers with a roll of your hips, grinding on his cock. His ragged breath on your neck gave him away as to how worked up he was, so you decided to give him a hand. Literally.
You shifted forward to give enough space for your hand to sneak between your bodies, and began stroking him under his pants.
“Fuck, Bunny, this is about you.”
“I want you to feel good too.” You muttered.
He pushed two fingers inside you, matching each stroke you gave his cock with the pumping of his fingers. In. Out. In. Out. Each time you rubbed his tip, he curled his fingers, pressing them on your sweet spot.
“Oh, that feels good.” Your head lolled back, eyes fluttering shut as you got lost in the sensation.
“Yeah, bunny? That's good, you're doing so well.” He cooed.
Your free hand gripped the couch, as fireworks went off inside you; the lewd sound of his fingers inside you increased when you gushed around his fingers.
“That’s it, Bunny, let go.”
As you squirmed over his lap, your hold on his cock tightened; his hips jolted forward, fucking himself on your fist, and seconds later, he came.
Your breath was still uneven when you let out a soft chuckle, resting your head on his shoulder.
“You okay?” He asked, puzzled by your sudden laugh.
“Why was I even stressed about?”
He mirrored your chuckle. “I dunno.”
You turned, your nose slightly brushing his face. He did his best not to kiss you right there. To his surprise, you kissed his cheek.
“Thank you, Bucky.”
“The pleasure is mine, literally.”
You giggled and peeled yourself off him. You reached for the tissue box that you had placed on the coffee table since all this started, and cleaned your hands, as well as your inner thighs. When you were done, you passed the box to Bucky to clean himself.
“Shower and a movie in a few minutes?” You suggested, standing up and stretching, still topless.
“Of course.” He said, keeping his eyes down.
You narrowed your eyes at him, “Don't make it weird; you're acting as if you didn't have your mouth attached to my chest like 5 minutes ago.”
“If I look up, I’d want to do it again.”
You thought he was joking, so you slapped his arm playfully. “Of course, Buck, whatever you say.” Your shoulders were still shaking with laughter as you walked to your room, leaving him in the living room to contemplate if all of this had been a mistake.
It became a regular thing then.
You got better at it, reading each other and finding stolen moments to get each other off. Trouble, of course, appeared sooner rather than later — because obviously, none of you had told any of your friends.
Steve was the first to almost catch you, and it had been your fault. That day, on your way home, you had texted Bucky, asking him if he was home after a stressful day. You made the mistake of not reading his text, and when you got to your apartment, you had walked down the hallway straight to his room.
“I’m home,” you said, removing your jacket and throwing it to the floor. You began undoing the buttons of your shirt as you pushed his door open. “You won't believe the day I had. I’m gonna need you to— Steve! Hi!” You widened your eyes and quickly covered your already exposed bra when you found Steve sitting at Bucky’s desk.
Steve blushed and said your name, gesturing a hello. You thanked God that you hadn't entered his room without pants, as you two had begun to wander inside the apartment in your underwear with nothing more than an oversized shirt in your case or sweatpants and a shirt in his.
“Bucky didn't tell me you would be here.” You said under a fake smile.
Bucky got back into the room, finding you standing by the door.
“I guess you didn't get my text,” Bucky mumbled in equal shock to you.
“I did not.” You turned on your heels, giving your back to Steve. “I’ll be in my room.”
Bucky mouthed sorry to you, and you quickly scrambled out of the room. When you took out your phone, his text mocked at you, reading that Steve had come to the apartment by surprise since he needed some tutoring, and that he would be more than happy to help you out as soon as he walked out.
Another time, not as embarrassing as that one, had occurred on campus. You and Yelena were eating some ice cream that the student committee had been giving out when Bucky found you.
“Hi, Bunny.” He greeted you, standing right in front of you.
“Hi! Want some?” You offered your cone as you had done multiple times in the past. He nodded, but instead of taking the cone from your hands, he leaned in, covering your hand with his as he licked a strip of melted ice cream and then sucked some more, all while staring right at you.
“Mmm, my favorite.” The tip of his tongue peeked out of his lips, collecting any residue of the cold dessert, as he kept eye contact.
Fuck me.
You might as well have combusted in the spot; you were horny as fuck since you hadn't had any action since your period started, contrary to him, who had been on the receiving end of your blowjobs.
“I’ll be staying after class at the library. Text me what you want me to get to dinner, okay?”
You hummed, still staring at his mouth. He dared to smile.
“Good.” He finally turned to see Yelena, who had watched the whole exchange like a hawk. “Yelena.” He nodded at her. “Catch you later, Bunny, thank you for sharing.”
And then he was gone.
“The fuck was that?” Yelena exclaimed.
“I don't know what you're talking about.” You busied yourself back into finishing your ice cream, ignoring the way her eyes were burning the side of your head.
“Are you guys fucking in your apartment? Is that why we haven't done a sleepover recently?” Yelena accused, making you choke on your ice cream.
“What the fuck, Lena?” You coughed. “We haven't done any sleepovers because you have been sleeping at Kate’s since you started hooking up.”
“Hey, we sometimes stay at mine. And don't change the subject; you didn't answer.”
“We’re not. We’re roommates, and he's my best friend.”
“I’m your best friend too, but you don't look at me like that, do you?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “If that wasn't sexual tension, I don't know what it was.”
“Maybe you're projecting."
She slapped your arm. "Shut up. But you might be right; thankfully, my period is over, so..." she grinned, already thinking of her date night with Kate.
"Lucky girl."
"Going back to you and Bucky. Why the hell does he even keep calling you Bunny?" She scoffed. "It sounds so… sexual, you know?"
"I already told you, he has been calling me that since your birthday. He couldn't hear my name over the music, so he called me by my costume."
"I know that, but that was during the first semester, ages ago, before you two lived together. He knows your name by now."
"It's just a cute nickname. I like it." You shrugged, but you couldn't lie; the nickname had begun to sound more intimate the last couple of weeks, especially since each time he said it with a much more sultry voice than he did before, it took you back to not-so-innocent moments.
"Dot and every guy you had dated hated it, which reminds me — Do you want to go out on a double date with Kate and me? She has this friend that I'm sure is your type. Who knows, Bob might give you a hand and break your dry spell."
You scrunched your nose at her suggestion. Something about someone else touching you in a sexual context made you sick. "I'm fine, Lena. I'm good with my own hands and toys, thank you very much."
"Ugh, you're no fun." She groaned. "The offer is there. Bob is a great guy, but Bucky isn't a bad choice either, if you two decide to finally start dating."
You gave her a shoulder check and resumed your walk towards your next lecture.
If only she knew.
You two were just having fun, helping each other out. You reminded yourself frequently.
You made each other get the edge off… in the kitchen, in the dining room, in the living room, in the hallway, in his room, in the laundry room, in the hallway, in his car. While, after, and before studying or going to work.
His gaming sessions weren't an exception.
Usually, even before you started this, while he was playing video games in his room, you would find your way there and read on his bed or play one of your cozy games on your portable console. Sometimes you would grab popcorn and other snacks, sit next to him, and watch him play.
It stopped being innocent one time you were reading another smutty book that got you so worked up that you ended up touching yourself on his bed. Bucky had looked over his shoulder after you let out a whimper before covering your mouth. He muted himself and asked you to approach. Once you were next to him, he patted his thigh and asked you to sit facing his setup.
“Grind, Bunny. Make yourself feel good.” He muttered before he lowered his mic again and unmuted, going back to his game. You rolled your hips over his thigh, leaving a wet spot on his skin. You leaned on his desk and buried your head in your arms to muffle your cries.
Since both of his hands were occupied, he gave you his attention by kissing your shoulder from time to time. Whenever he was killed in-game and had to spectate his teammates, he took you by the hips and aided you in your movements — sometimes he would die on purpose early on the match so he could play with your clit with one hand and cover your mouth with the other.
When you were close to your climax, he muted his mic, and with his warm mouth in your ear, he praised you as you came, ignoring the trash talk from Sam and Steve about how shitty he was playing that day. In return for the favor, you had sunk to your knees under his desk and suck him off while the other match started, making him lose again and bark an excuse to his friends to disconnect, and then took you to his bed to make you sit on his face while you kept his cock deep in your throat.
The first night Bucky slept with you in your bed after this agreement started hadn't been planned. You had slept together before; naturally, after so much time knowing each other, you had taken naps on the living room couch, or in his bed if you fell asleep there, but your room had been the exception — until that night.
"Hey, are you still awake?" Bucky asked from the other side of your door.
"Come in." You replied with a yawn.
"Did I wake you up?" He peeked his head out, opening the door slightly.
"You didn't. What's up?"
He was standing by the door, visibly nervous.
"Bucky?"
"Can I lie down with you?" He sounded tired. You knew he hadn't been sleeping well, too stressed about his projects. He always pressured himself; you had called him out many times, but he had been raised this way, and old habits died hard.
"Of course you can."
He climbed into your bed and lay down under the covers behind you since you were on your side. His arms quickly wrapped around you, one tucked under your head and the other around your waist, pulling your back into his chest.
You stayed silent in that position, caressing his arm around you, feeling his warm breath on the back of your neck.
“They will still love you if you don't get straight A’s, you know?” His hold around you tightened.
“I'm not so sure about that.” He replied, his voice sounded so… small.
“Well, I do. Because I don't care if you get an A or a C. You're still you, and I love you for that.” You said. “You’re kind, gentle, and yeah, you're a little awkward, and sometimes you forget how to socialize properly—”
You smiled triumphantly when he chuckled.
“Shut up.”
“You are funny, smart, and the best human being that I know of — not because you are perfect, but because you get up every morning and just… try.”
“Bunny…”
“And if your parents don't see that, fuck them, seriously. You don't need to go back there during the break. You can stay here, or go with me to my hometown, or even better, we can both take that trip you always tell me about.”
You couldn't see him, but you felt him melting around you, embracing you close as his breath eased.
“I'm so lucky to have you as a friend.” He mumbles
“Of course you are. I'm amazing.” You chuckled.
“Yes, you are.” He kissed your shoulder over your pajama shirt. "I hope you know all those wonderful things also apply to you. In fact, let's add it to the house rules.”
“What do you suggest?”
“No more stressing over school; we are allowed to fail. How about that?”
You hummed, “I like that. Took us long enough, but it's a good rule now that it's our final year.”
“Let’s try to sleep, Bunny.” He said, closing his eyes.
“I'm trying, but a big nerd came into my room in the middle of the night and won't stop talking.”
“Shut up.” He kicked your leg.
You returned the kick. “You shut up.”
“Shh.”
Stillness lasted almost an hour; you both were already drifting in your sleep when you shifted your hips slightly, brushing against his front. You stayed like that until you fell asleep.
In his sleep, Bucky jerked his hips forward in a sloppy rhythm, which woke you up eventually. Your eyes adjusted to the dark of the room, unable to move since he had you trapped against him.
“Mmm, Bunny.” You heard him whine; his hips were thrusting against your ass, his cock hardening with each movement.
You blinked away sleep and turned over your shoulder; to your surprise, he was asleep, mouth slightly open and chest rising in a steady rhythm.
He moaned your name, and you wouldn't lie, having him basically humping you from behind and moaning in your ear was making your panties wet.
His hand, that had been resting heavily over the curve of your waist, moved down, resting lower, dangerously close to your pussy.
“Bucky, wake up.” You managed to say, biting back a whimper from your part. “Bucky.”
“Mmm?” He hummed, keeping his eyes closed.
“You’re…” You squeezed his arm, but he didn't let you finish. As soon as he regained consciousness, his throbbing cock called his attention; the need to cum ran hot all over his body.
He tensed when he realized what he had been doing.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry, Bunny.” His voice was thick with sleep. He moved his hips away from you, but yours followed. “Bunny?”
“Wait. Do you need help with that?” You whispered, wiggling your ass against him.
He choked a moan.
“Bunny…”
“I can help.”
“We said no penetration.” He sounded pained.
You bit your lip and then shifted, angling yourself so his cock was nuzzled right below your ass cheeks.
“You don't need to put it in. Just… use my thighs.” You offered.
He was speechless.
“Did you read that in one of those books?” He teased.
“Shut up. Do you want to try it or not?” You wiggled your ass again, making him jolt forward.
“Fuck, wait, don't we need lube or something?”
You looked over your shoulder. “Bottom drawer, behind you.” He looked at you. You rolled your eyes. “I use it with my sex toys, dumbass.”
He would definitely ask about it later, maybe even ask you to give him a demonstration.
Bucky peeled himself from you to reach the drawer. When he opened it, he saw some silky bags of different sizes, a bottle, and a small towel. His curiosity won over, and he took one of the smaller bags, as well as the bottle of lube and the towel.
You turned on your back when you heard the shuffling behind you; he had turned on the lamp on your bedside table.
“I told you to grab the lube.” You scolded him.
“Which one is this?” He held the silky bag high so you could see it.
Your eyes trailed from the bag to his eyes. “My vibrating bullet.”
You saw the devilish grin that appeared on his face. He could picture you perfectly, on your back in your bed late at night after he had fallen asleep next door, holding the vibrator under your panties, your mouth hanging open in a silent cry, brows knitted in the expression he had come to learn like the back of his hand.
His cock twitched.
“Can you use it while I fuck your thighs?” He asked, even if the warm soft light only lit one side of his face, you noticed his heavy-lidded dark eyes; the bright blue was only a slim ring around his blown pupils.
You sighed through your nose, but nodded. The idea sounded really, really good. You lifted your hand and gestured for him to give you the bag.
Bucky let out a happy noise and then proceeded to free his hard cock. He put some lube on his palm and then smeared it along his length. He positioned himself back into position and then slid his cock between your thighs.
You were looking down, watching as his wet tip peeked between your plush skin. You lowered your hand and teased his tip when it peeked out.
“Fuck, Bunny.” He groaned behind you, resting his forehead against your shoulder as he rolled his hips. “Use it, make yourself good, please.”
You complied, taking out the vibrator from the bag after he handed you the lube.
The moment the added stimulation registered in your body, your hips jolted back, meeting his thrust and making both of you moan in unison.
Bucky gripped your hips, keeping you steady as he fucked himself between your legs. With the angle you held your hips, the bottom side of the vibrator brushed his tip when he rutted in.
“Fuck, Bunny, you're taking me so well.”
You whimpered his name, turning your head slightly and kissing his arm that was still tucked under your head.
“Keep going, don't stop.” You encouraged him, tightening your hold around his cock by crossing your legs.
He cursed, digging his fingers into your hips.
“Oh God, I’m not gonna last.”
“It's okay, cum Bucky, cum for me.”
He came with a groan, his hips jerked in sloppy thrusts until every drop dripped between your thighs. With his hand, he turned your face, and keeping eye contact, you came undone, with hot pleasure ripping you apart and pulling you back together for his eyes only.
Mouth hanging open.
Lips trembling.
Brows knitted.
Bucky really wished he could've kissed you in that moment. Muffle your cries with his lips, drink up your moans, and your taste.
But he didn't.
He just stared at you in awe, and if he hadn't just come, he was sure he would've reached ecstasy the moment your eyes locked in his.
He held you in his arms until you came back into your body, and after a few minutes, he got up with the towel in his hand. He emerged from your bathroom after cleaning himself, with your towel now warm in his hand.
Bucky climbed the bed, and mumbling praises, he cleaned the residue of his spent and lube from between your thighs, then he removed your soaked panties, and cleaned the evidence of your arousal.
He discarded the towel, and after roaming in the drawer you pointed out, he took a new pair of panties and, to your surprise, he put them on you, leaving a kiss on your inner thigh when he was done.
Back in your bed, he took his place behind you and cuddled you, holding you in his arms as sleep took over.
Those nights repeated, especially once the semester got to that point where both of you lived and breathed projects and heavy assignments.
Sometimes he would find his way into your room, giving you an orgasm or two before falling asleep. Morning with him also meant waking up with his mouth on you, kissing down your body, or tongue deep in your pussy.
“I like to taste you first thing in the morning. Works better than caffeine.” He had said the first time you had woken up with him under the covers.
You returned the favor, of course, waking him up, stroking him, or with his cock deep in your throat.
The mornings in your room together led to a shower together — only when your shower routine allowed it — and then to the kitchen, where both worked on breakfast. It was easy, the domesticity of all; it made your heart gallop and stop at the same time.
You knew things had changed; god, they probably changed before this whole agreement, somewhere between doing groceries and movie nights with your roommate.
Of course, you weren't the only one who had noticed that change.
“Okay, spit it out, tell me what's going on?” Yelena asked, rolling the grocery cart.
Bucky’s birthday was the following day, and you had been working on his surprise party, which meant an express grocery visit to buy all the last-minute items.
“I don't know what you are talking about.” You muttered, taking several bags of chips and dumping them on top of the napkins.
“Oh, but you know. You had been glowing this past week, and I know you; I know when you're hiding something.”
“Lena, just drop it; nothing is going on.”
She hummed.
You thought she had, in fact, dropped it. She didn't.
“You know,” she said once everything was loaded in her car, and she got ready to drive out of the parking lot. “Jason asked about you.”
“Jason?”
“Tall guy, huge biceps, dreamy eyes. You hooked up with him during first year.” She detailed, keeping her eyes on the road.
Oh.
Jason.
The one Bucky had found you tongue deep in his throat.
That Jason.
“I remember.”
“Well, he is a friend of Kate. I met him at a reunion with her group of friends.”
“Sounds like you're finally going steady.”
“Stop deflecting.” She said, giving you side-eye. “He recognized me, asked about you, and I invited him to Bucky’s party, so you can reconnect.”
You widened your eyes. This was the last thing you needed.
“Yelena Belova.” You scolded.
“Wow, full government name.”
“Why the fuck did you invite him? He doesn't even know Bucky!”
“Kate also doesn't know him, and she's going.”
“That's different! She's your girlfriend.” You slapped her arm. “Uninvite him! I don't care! He's not coming.”
“Jesus, woman, I’m just trying to help you out! Exams had been stressful; maybe you need to fuck the stress out, you know.”
“Well, don't. I'm totally fine, I do not need more help.” The words spilled out of your mouth, blinded by the successful rage bait that your friend just did.
Yelena grinned.
“So you are getting help with that. I knew it. You looked extra chirpy these last months.” You widened your eyes in horror. “So who's the lucky guy?”
She glanced at you for a second, a quick read of your face, and then her jaw dropped.
“Oh, my God! Are you and Bucky finally together? Is this why I haven't been at your apartment? You don't want me to disrupt your love nest!”
You buried your face in your hands. “Shut up.”
She squealed.
“That’s not a no!”
“Lena, we are not together… we are just having fun.”
“You don't sound like you're having fun.” Her brows knitted with concern. “Babes, what’s the problem?”
“We are fuckbuddies. But I’m not sure if he wants more.”
“Have you asked him?”
“No. Well — I suggested some rules at the beginning; he agreed.”
“God, babes, for someone so smart, sometimes you do be an idiot.”
“Excuse me?”
“Haven’t you stopped to think that maybe he agreed and you put those rules, because both of you thought that was the only way the other would agree to be that close to actually being something real?”
You shook your head.
“Babes, that guy has been head over heels for you since that night you met. And you had been too!” You opened your mouth. “Don’t even try to deny it.”
You rolled your eyes and huffed a breath out of your nose. “I actually was about to agree with you.”
“That's a first. Continue.”
“I’m such an idiot, but how do I even start undoing it?”
Yelena parked her car right outside your building.
“Maybe start undoing all those rules of yours.” She shrugged.
And you took it literally.
Maybe it was a mistake, and you should have stopped to think about it more clearly, but you were desperate.
Yelena left after she helped you take all the groceries upstairs and hide everything out of Bucky’s sight — which, in retrospect, wasn't necessary since Bucky knew you always threw a party for him. The only surprise was the theme.
And this year, the last birthday being a college student, the theme was costumes.
Just like the day you met.
Bucky arrived at the apartment a few hours later, coming back from hanging out with Steve, who, as every birthday week of his, was tasked with keeping him busy and out of the apartment if needed.
“Bunny! I’m home!” Bucky exclaimed, peeling off his jacket.
“In my room!” You shouted without peeking out.
You heard him padding around the apartment, and just as you predicted, he opened your door seconds later.
“Bunny…” Bucky mumbled, flabbergasted.
You were standing just outside of your bathroom, resting with one hand extended towards the wall. You were wearing a white lacy set of lingerie, paired with an open silky translucent robe that framed your body. On top of your head, like a crown of a queen, were the same bunny ears that you had been wearing the night you met.
“Happy early birthday, Buck.” You said with a smirk.
“Angel…” He said, mouth dry.
“Wasn't I your Bunny?” You pouted.
“You look like an angel.” You chuckled, walking barefoot towards him. “I have died, and I’m in heaven.”
“Easy, you're not dead yet.” You stopped in front of him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. His hands shot to hold your naked waist to keep you steady; he didn't remove them even when your heels touched the floor. “This ain't your birthday gift, though; this is a sneak peek at your party tomorrow. You have to pick a costume.”
His eyes widened. “You’ll be wearing this tomorrow?”
“The bunny ears. But this will be under the dress.” You winked at him.
And he whimpered.
He actually whimpered.
“That's torture. Do you know how hard it would be to keep my hands away from you, knowing that?”
Maybe you don't need to. You wanted to say.
“Someone will have to restrain me so I don't end up giving a show out there.” He added.
You laughed.
“Yeah, maybe you should keep that for the bedroom.”
“Or at least until we are alone.”
“Smart.”
“Is that why you're showing me now?” He asked, his hands pulling you closer to him, forcing you to look up to meet his eyes. “To taunt me.”
You nodded. “That, and because I wanted to try out something.”
“What?” He scanned your face, stopping for several seconds at your lips.
You took it as a green light.
You stood again on your tiptoes, resting your hands over his shoulder and the nape of his neck.
And then you kissed him.
He gasped in your mouth, but then he melted in the kiss, cupping your head to control the angle, deepening the kiss.
Heat spread all over your body, overheating you to the point you felt like you were on fire. Without leaving his lips, you removed your robe and then pulled him from his collar, guiding him to your bed until he was lying over you.
“Bunny… the rules.” He said, pulling himself away from your lips, a pained look on his face.
“Forget them.” You guided him back to you, and he surrendered.
Your hands traveled around his body, touching whenever they could reach, pulling at his clothes to remove them.
“I want to feel you.” You whimpered.
“Okay.” He nodded, kissing your neck. He removed his shirt; his jeans followed shortly after, landing near his shoes and socks.
“Boxers too.” You mumbled against the crook of his neck.
Kissing and nipping the tender skin and making him groan.
He lay naked over you, your legs parted and hugging his hips, pulling him close until he could feel the growing wetness in your panties. Bucky moaned in your mouth, as you bucked your hips; the friction over his erection made him see stars.
This was new.
You knew it. He knew it.
Even when he fucked your thighs, he was never that close to your pussy. And when you were in a similar position, there were always at least two layers of clothes between you.
His hips rutted against you, and then you guided your hand between your bodies, pulling your panties to the side.
He gave you a puzzled look.
“Are you sure?” He asked.
“More than anything. I want to feel you.”
He whimpered, and after a nod, he resumed his grinding. You mewled as his heavy cock glided between your folds, kissing your clit with each dive.
“More, I need more.” You moaned. “Please, Bucky, give it to me.”
Bucky sat on his heels, looking down at your squirming figure, but you followed him up, meeting his lips in a passionate kiss. He got distracted, lost in your lips, to the point that when you pulled apart to lie back down, your panties and bra were gone, your glistening pussy exposed, weeping to have him inside.
The groan that left him was borderline animalistic. Knelt before you, he grabbed his cock with his fist and began rocking his hips, the tip of his cock hitting your clit with more pressure and precision. You spread yourself open for him, with your hands hooked behind your knees and holding your legs up.
“Bucky, please.” You groaned.
“What do you need, Bunny?”
“You, please, inside.”
He whined, “Bunny, no…”
“Why not?” You cried out.
“The rules.” He said simply.
“Fuck the rules.” You groaned. “I want you, all of you. Please, Bucky.” You begged.
He stilled his hips, needing to focus and think with his brain and not his other head. Because he wanted to feel you, too, bury himself in your heat.
“What if you regret it?” He searched your eyes, his concern only confirming what you already knew.
“I won't.” You worked to steady your breath. “Because I’ve been wanting these since I met you. Especially once I realized how much I love you.”
He shifted, too lost in his mind to realize he had done it, making his cock nuzzle between your folds and kiss your clit. You swallowed your moan.
“You love me?” His blue eyes, obscured by his desire, were bright with unshed tears.
You nodded frantically, and a chuckle escaped you, letting go of the strain of your legs but keeping yourself open. “So much it made me scared to lose you and stop myself from saying it out loud.” You confessed.
“Bunny —” He looked at you with a bright smile. “You don't have any idea of how much I love you.”
“I think I might have.” You smiled. “And I’m pretty sure that anyone who has met both of us knows how much we love each other.”
“Do you think that me gifting you flowers, any chance that I had, was too on the nose?” He scrunched his nose, leaning in and placing a hand next to your head.
You laughed, throwing your head back, making the bunny ears — that until that moment were forgotten — shift, and dig into your skull. Bucky noticed the discomfort in your face and reached out to place the bunny ears back in place.
“Yeah, probably. But me throwing myself in your arms right after might have contributed.” You said, lost in the tender way he looked at you.
“So we are both idiots, keeping each other away from what makes us happy.”
“Pretty much.”
“What now?” He looked at you.
“Well, right now we can continue what we were doing.” You bucked your hips, feeling the delicious drag of his cock against you. “After that, we can talk more about it, but let me tell you, I’m tired of the rules, tired of being a dirty secret, tired of loving you in the shadows.”
“I agree.”
“Do you want to be—” You clamped your hand over his mouth.
“Don't you dare ask me to be your girlfriend when we are about to have sex.” You threatened, and then you removed your hand.
“Later then.” He smiled. “Where were we?” He knitted his brows, feigning ignorance.
“I don't know, where do you think we were?” You teased.
“I think, Bunny.” He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours with each word he said. “I was about to fuck you.” His smug smile was bright when he pulled back enough to see your reaction. “Am I right?”
“Mhm.”
“Tell me if you need me to stop or change anything.” He instructed, lining himself with your entrance.
“Wait.” You gasped when you felt his tip tease your opening. He stopped, pulling back away from you. “Slow, please… You are big.”
He nodded, and then he pushed inside. Your mouth gaped, feeling your walls fluttering around him to accommodate his girth inside you.
“More.” You whined after a few shallow thrusts with only his tip inside you.
He sank deeper, your slick adding to the intrusion. Your hand shot to grip his forearm next to your head.
“You’re taking me so well, Bunny.” He praised. “My pretty Bunny, so wet and tight for me. Breathe, baby, you can do it.”
You mewled, feeling him reach deeper until he was buried to the hilt.
“That's it, so good, such a good bunny.” His voice cracked, pleasure ripping down his spine after a few thrusts.
Your legs returned to the initial position. Spread open, legs up. You felt him reach deeper, each drag adding pressure to your sweet spot.
“Oh fuck, right there.” You whined.
His pace fastened, tightening the coil in your belly with each drill of his hips. He rocked your entire body, making your breasts jiggle with each movement that made your ass hit his thighs, to the point that if he hadn't been holding you in place, he would've already pushed you out of bed.
You were creaming around him, mixing with his precum, forming a ring of slick at the bottom of his cock. The wet clap of skin against skin was loud, mixing with your moans and cries.
“Oh, Bunny, you feel so good. You're gripping me so tight, you don't want to let go, don't you? You want me to stay right there, nuzzled inside you.”
“Yes, ah, yes!” You cried out, wrapping your legs around him with a leglock, heels pressing his butt.
“Bunny, baby, I need to pull out,” Bucky said, groaning.
“Cum inside me, please, breed me.”
“Oh, Bunny.” He whimpered, his self-control snapping like a twig. “Is this why you said no penetration before — mmm, because you knew how much you'll want my cum inside you.”
You nodded.
“Please, I need it.”
His pace grew more erratic; he leaned in, arms braced so he could piston harder. Your arms wrapped around him, nails digging in his skin.
He knew very well that you were on the pill since long before you met him; still, the fantasy of getting you pregnant, marking you as his for the world to see, was making him dizzy in pleasure.
You were babbling now, too cockdrunk to even speak without slurring words that weren't yes, please, Bucky, fill me.
“Such a needy, Bunny.” He taunted you. “Come for me, baby, let me feel you.”
He felt you coming around him first, then he saw your pretty face contorted with pleasure.
Mouth hanging open.
Lips trembling.
Brows knitted.
Your legs trembled as you came, gushing around his cock. Your back arched.
And finally, he achieved what he had only been dreaming of. He kissed you, swallowing your moans.
Your climax triggered his, milking him as he spilled his seed inside you, filling you to the brim. His hips jerked; shallow thrusts made to pump his cum inside you and make it stay there.
“That’s it, Bunny. Take every drop.” He groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You slurred, still on the peak of your climax that had prolonged with the joy of being bred.
You came down slowly, falling back into his arms as he cooed praises. He stayed buried inside you, just shifting enough to make you moan, and making sure not a single drop was wasted.
“That was…”
“Intense.” Bucky completed.
“Very much. When can we repeat?” You joked, making him laugh over you.
“My bunny and her jokes, I swear.” He kissed your lips. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you more.” You giggled when he kept peppering kisses all over your face and neck.
He pulled back slightly so he could see your whole face. “Are you okay?” he asked, straightening the bunny ears again.
“Never have been better, but I think my legs are cramped now.”
“Shit, Bunny!”
Bucky quickly straightened his back, bringing you up with him until you were sitting in his lap; the shift made some cum drip around his cock and down to the sheets.
“Better?” He kissed your shoulder, and as you got comfortable with your arms around him, he placed one hand on the curve of your ass, and the other caressed down your spine with lazy strokes.
You nodded, feeling sleepy and satisfied.
“Happy early birthday, Bucky.” You mumbled, reciprocating the caresses on his broad back.
“Thank you, Bunny. Best birthday present.” You nuzzled into his neck. “We are gonna have to explain a lot tomorrow.”
You considered lying, but you knew it would eventually come out.
“Yelena already knows.” You confessed. “She rage-baited me today until I spilled it out. I didn't tell her all the details — but she inferred we were sleeping together. She also helped me see how stupid I was not to tell you how I feel.”
He hummed.
“Why do you look so calm about it?” You narrowed your eyes at him, meeting his eyes and watching him blush. “Barnes?”
“Sam and Steve also know, superficially, nothing in detail. They've been nudging me to confess how much I love you for the past year, but I didn't want to risk our friendship.”
“Oh God, I can't believe our brain cells canceled each other.” You whined, mortified.
“If it helps, you're way smarter than I am; you at least made us progress — I was about to take my feelings to my grave.”
You slapped his arm. “Dumbass.”
He laughed.
“Ready to move?” You nodded against his shoulder. “What do you think about a bubble bath, soaking there until we look like raisins, and then we watch that movie you told me last time? I bought that ice cream you love.”
“Fuck me, you know me so well.”
“Of course I do, I’m your best friend.” He kissed your temple. “And your future boyfriend.”
“Yes, you are.” You smiled at him, and before he helped you stand up, you kissed him.
You were getting addicted to his kisses, you realized, which in part was great because you had so much time to make up for that you would be surprised if you ever were more than a few minutes without feeling his lips on you.
Time for new house rules.
taglist: @satelluna @houseofhyde @biaswreckedbybuckybarnes @justwantsomeplums @thearchivistshaven @swimmingnightcolor @w1nter-fairy @sassandscribbles @opheliabbarnes @54nboo @buckyfmd @slutforsr @umbreoni @devililithh @colettebarnes @barnesandashes @metal-armed-muse @heldbybarnes @sheriff-bodecker @bckyslover @demiebarnes @amoremarveloustime @kqtholins @spidermanluvr444 @mathcat345 @singulartoast @erina00 @goldiegirl0312 @buckysdecaflove @ghost-of-barnes @onyx8514 @imtoooldforthis82 @l0singctrl @eilish007 @apenny4thots (+ comment on this post to be added to the taglist)
if you liked it, feel free to leave a like, rb, a comment, or an ask! I'd love to read your thoughts!
𝔅LACK LACE PANTIES ⫶⫶ 18+ MDNI
pairing: roommate!choso x fem!reader
choso shouldn't be doing this.
he knows he shouldn't be doing this.
but does he care? absolutely not.
can you blame him? a few days ago he took a peek and saw those pretty jet black panties you were wearing and couldn't resist to have a taste.
you're out, at the grocery store for the two of you. his cock is already rock hard— pre leaking from the tip. it's so very evident that he's completely turned on right now.
his pale hand slides open the drawer— reaching to find those black panties in question. and he does, because choso kamo always gets what he wants.
his long fingers interlink with the panties, pulling them up from the other piles of cloth.
he lays his eyes on it, in it's full glory. you yourself have worn these. he can't wrap his pretty head around the concept.
his delicate fingers trace the crotch, grazing the panties like they're something reverent. his erection is now throbbing, even more deliciously painful than it was before. so painful, he has to stop himself from moaning so loud.
he sits down on your bed, fingers clutching tightly onto the piece of fabric, pulling down his pants, stroking himself over the soaked boxers.
he groans blissfully, sliding the boxers straight off of him, thick erection springing up in an almost freeing manner.
he strokes up and down at the base, wet pre dribbling down to coat his hand.
"god.. mfghh.. fu-fuck.." his voice breaks, head falling back as he grabs the panties, wrapping it around his hand, pumping quickly, imagining it was you instead.
in fact, choso has had this desire for months. he's never been able to fulfill it because he knows that you don't reciprocate his feelings.
so, this is the only way for him to feel closer to you without crossing any lines. and he can still barely control himself around you. he thinks it's disgraceful and embarrassing, you think he's just nervous around people since he doesn't talk much.
that's not the case at all.
his hand moves faster, fingers paying extra attention to his puffy tip— eyes rolling back at the thought of you doing this instead, because seriously. what if it was your sweet cunt he was buried inside? he would probably ask for you to keep the panties on, only if you don't mind making a mess.
he would definitely be a goner if you were moving up and down his slick and overworked cock right now.
he closes his eyes, cum spilling out in creamy ropes, soaking into your panties and sliiightly reaching his stomach.
he shivers, staring up at the ceiling, processing what he had just done.
he had just cummed on your panties. those shits are expensive! and, to add insult to injury, he heard keys jingling. you were fucking home. oh, he was so done.
choso reacts instantly, throwing the panties back in the drawer, pulling his boxers and pants back up again, wiping the sweat that was caught on his brow. he's basically trapped and there's no way to get out of your room without you noticing.
oh, fuck. he is so done.
he could just run quickly? yeah.
he does so, crouch- running to his room, seemingly not alerting you.
it was those black lace panties fault.
aaandd we reach the day black lace panties comes back to tumblr
© 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 2026. do not repost as your own, translate or feed any of my works into ai.
tlist: @valberryboos, @lilithkleia, @satorusdreamer, @mimuju, @yorikae, @yoonsucks, @6x-x9, @xqce, @https-iso, @v4mpyyb4tzz
Jealousy looks good on you, baby
pairing : nanami kento x reader
synopsis : nanami took you out for ice cream to make up for last night. gojo tagged along. but the real cherry on top? that woman from nanami’s past shows up. and she looks real trouble.
content warning : nsfw, explicit sexual content, nipple play, teasing, possessiveness, breeding talk, jealousy, age gap, light humiliation, dirty talk. 18+ only.
nanami | gojo | geto | toji
read the main series here
Warm friday night air clings softly to your skin, the scent of waffle cones and melted sugar floating around you as you stand before a glowing ice cream stall. The board above you lists too many flavors, all chalked up in messy cursive. Caramel, cotton candy, triple chocolate fudge, blueberry cheesecake…
You chew your bottom lip, hands folded nervously in front of you as you scan the options.“I can’t decide…” you mumble.
“Buy all of ‘em,” Gojo says immediately, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a kid on a sugar high, sunglasses pushed up into his white hair. “I’ll pay. just blink twice if you want me to fund your sweet-tooth era.”
Nanami sighs beside you. “you’re not paying.”
“Says who?” Gojo smirks. “you took her out but I’m the one who makes her smile.”
“Whatever makes you sleep at night,” Nanami mutters.
You glance up at them both, cheeks already warm. Gojo’s grin is wide and Nanami’s stoic, hands in his pockets. You shift on your feet, heart fluttering. Honestly, you’re still recovering from yesterday, bruises high on your thighs hidden under your skirt, soreness that hasn’t left. Nanami had held your trembling body all night, apologizing under his breath, lips pressed to your temple, promising—“I’ll make it up to you. this weekend. Ice cream. just us.”
Except Gojo overheard. And now here he was, ruining the peace.
“Oh, oh—try that mango one. mango makes everything better,” Gojo says, tugging lightly at your sleeve. “like, imagine it melting on your cunt while someone’s fingering you. so hot.”
You suck in a breath, eyes going wide. “t-toru!”
He just chuckles, shameless and unbothered, then leans down to whisper near your ear, “or do you prefer chocolate? because, bunny dipped in chocolate is a combo I’d pay for.”
You try not to combust on the spot. Nanami exhales deeply. “stop talking.”
Just then, a voice calls out from across the street, smooth and playful. “kento~!” Nanami turns, brows furrowed. Gojo does too.
And then her voice registers. You look just in time to see her. Tall, elegant, maybe in her early thirties, blonde waves swept back in a high twist, a sharp black blazer hugging her curves. Red lipstick. High heels. A smile that could kill.
Gojo whistles low. “damn. older women are always a blessing for my pretty eyes…”
You go quiet. Nanami's expression softens the second recognition hits. He smiles back, actually smiles and lifts a hand in greeting.
“Sweetheart,” he says gently to you, touching your shoulder. “pick something you like, hmm? I’ll be back in a minute.”
Your lips part to reply, but he's already walking across the street, not even waiting for it. Your heart sinks a little. Just a little.
Gojo keeps talking, mostly to himself. “you think she spanks men for fun? she gives off that boss lady vibe. shit, I’d let her tell me to sit, and I’d bark. proudly.”
You blink at him, mouth twitching, but your eyes keep slipping across the road. Nanami’s posture is relaxed, he’s not usually like that. The two of them talk, and she laughs, her hand brushing his forearm.
“Maybe I should get the vanilla,” you murmur, too soft.
"Mhmm you sure you're a vanilla girl?" Gojo smirks. He picks up a sample spoon, dips it into the pistachio, licks it once, then makes a face. “nah. that’s a bad head flavor. you want something creamy. like hazelnut. Or caramel. something that melts easy. so when it drips on your cunt, I can just lick…” he mimics licking it off his wrist.
You squeak, tugging at his shirt. “satoru… there are kids here…”
“These are life lessons,” he retorts with a wink.
Your attention drifts back across the road. Nanami’s laughing now. You pout slightly, eyes burning even though you tell yourself it’s nothing. Just an old friend. An ex, maybe. He’d never said. He wasn’t the type to hide things, but still… When they hug, something inside you twists. And then he’s coming back, straightening his sleeves, walking towards you.
“Have you picked?” he asks, voice smooth, eyes on you. You nod, pointing weakly to the blueberry cheesecake. Gojo hums something under his breath. You catch the words “lick” and “cream” but don’t want to ask. Nanami pays after a battle with Gojo.
You’re too quiet now, licking the corner of your spoon as you three begin walking home. Gojo talks enough for all three of you, arm slung lazily around your shoulders. You keep sneaking glances at Nanami, trying not to think of her laugh. The way he smiled at her. And beside you, Gojo’s fingers tap-tap along your shoulder, his voice low and smug.
The walk back home is filled with low chatter, Gojo is talking a mile a minute about some theory that somehow ties back to boobs and ice cream, but you don’t catch most of it. You’re quiet. Too quiet. Your fingers curl tighter around the paper cup in your hands, the ice cream inside mostly melted now. It tastes sweet on your tongue, but your expression doesn't match. You’re trying not to pout. Really, you are. But every time the image of that woman hugging Nanami flashes behind your eyes, something in your chest just drops. Gojo glances down at you as you trail beside him, head a little low.
“Hey, bunny,” he nudges you gently with his elbow. “you okay?”
You nod quickly.
“…didn’t like the ice cream, huh?”
You blink up at him. “no, it’s not that.”
“You’re pouting,” he says in your ear.
“I’m not,” you whisper back, even though you definitely are. Nanami slows his steps until he’s walking on your other side, eyes narrowing as he watches you. You don't meet his gaze.
“You cold?” he asks, already unzipping his coat.
You shake your head, but your voice betrays you. “I’m fine.”
He doesn’t listen, wrapping his coat over your shoulders anyway, hands lingering on your arms for a second longer than needed. The warmth makes you sink into the fabric without thinking.
“Thank you…” you murmur.
“You're quiet,” he says under his breath, like he’s filing that thought away.
When you reach the apartment, the door creaks open to the familiar scent of home. The living room is dim. Toji’s passed out on the couch, one arm draped over his face, mouth open slightly. Geto’s door is shut, faint music playing behind it. You toe off your shoes quietly, still wrapped in Nanami’s coat.
Gojo, of course, doesn’t know how to be quiet. The moment you try to step into your room, he squeezes in right behind you. “hey, hey—don’t shut me out. I missed you.”
“I was with you this morning, though,” you whisper, glancing at Nanami over your shoulder.
Gojo grins. “yeah, when you were bouncing on my cock and making the prettiest little sobs I’ve ever heard. doesn’t count as ‘quality time’.”
Your face turns crimson. “satoruu!!!”
He steps closer, arms ready to wrap around you, when Nanami grabs the back of his collar and yanks him out of your doorway like a misbehaving mutt.
Gojo stumbles back into the hallway. “HEY! RUDE.” Nanami slips inside your room and closes the door behind him firmly.
Gojo starts a full-blown tantrum outside. “you two are selfish! I offer free love and look what I get! used and thrown away like fuckin' trash—”
“Gojo, bed. now.” Nanami snaps.
Gojo groans. “ughhhh. fiiine. just so you know, this is why I’m emotionally distant with men.” You hear him muttering something about being “underappreciated” as he stomps off to his room.
The door clicks softly behind him. Now it’s quiet. Nanami exhales, hands loosening as he approaches you. His eyes are softer now, searching your face. “did you enjoy the ice cream?”
You hesitate, then nod.
He steps closer. “you sure you’re alright… from last night?”
You glance down at your legs, where his grip had bloomed purple over your skin. You nod again, more firm this time. “I’m okay,” you whisper.
He cups your face gently and kisses you deep, warm, lips pressing slow like he means it. You lean into him without thinking, letting his hand slide to your back. When he pulls away, his voice is low. “alright, sweetheart. get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He starts toward the door. Your heart panics, speaking before you think, with trembling voice. “..uhmm… nanami?”
He pauses, hand on the knob, looking over his shoulder. “yeah, baby?”
You shuffle in place, wringing your fingers. “I… uhh… can… can we… I-I wanna…”
His brows lift slightly as he turns to face you fully. “hmm?”
Your throat goes dry. “I wanna… do it.”
His expression shifts, amusement curving his lips, but his voice stays warm. “Oh?” he hums, stepping toward you again. “are you saying you want me to fuck you, dear?”
You nod once, face burning. He tilts your chin up with two fingers. “who am I to say no to that?”
He kisses you again, deeper, his tongue slow and thorough like he’s savoring the shape of your mouth. Then, he lifts you gently and lays you across your bed. His hands unbutton your top carefully like he’s unwrapping something rare.
“Such a shy little thing…” he murmurs, dragging his fingers down your chest. “but look at you asking for my cock. you must’ve missed it, hmm?”
You whimper softly. “… yeah.”
He smiles. “then I’ll give it to you. nice and slow.”
The room fills with soft gasps and the shuffle of fabric. Nanami’s mouth maps every inch of your skin, tongue warm, lips dragging over your neck, collarbone, breasts, thighs. He kisses every bruise he left before.
“Sorry,” he whispers each time. “you were too good… couldn’t help myself.”
He doesn’t fuck you. Not yet. First, he worships you. Hands firm on your thighs, spreading you, he licks your cunt like a man starved, slow and precise, tongue swirling around your clit, letting your moans get louder and messier until you’re writhing and clinging to the sheets. Only then does he finally slide into you inch by slow inch, watching your face the whole time.
“You always take me so well,” he breathes, groaning against your neck. “so tight like your pussy doesn’t wanna let me go.”
You’re gasping, arms around his shoulders, every stroke making your mind blur. His hips move slow and deep, kissing the ache in your belly. His hand sneaks between your legs to rub you just right, making you cry out.
“Shh, shh… I got you,” he whispers. “you’re doing so good, baby.”
By the end, your skin is slick with sweat, your thighs trembling, every nerve burning in the best way. He stays buried inside you as you both pant for air, foreheads pressed together. Then, he pulls out and gathers you close, arms snug around your waist. You’re tucked in his chest, your leg thrown over his, fingers tracing small circles on his ribs.
“…Nanamin, can I… ask you something?”
His voice was still thick with post-orgasm bliss, low and soft against your temple. "oh? what is it, dear? need something? water?"
You shook your head slowly, cheek still pressed to his chest where you could hear the steady beat of his heart. "... do you like my hair?"
He blinked, pulling back slightly to look down at you, brows slightly furrowed. "huh? yeah, baby—of course I do. your hair's just as pretty as you. why ask me that all of a sudden?"
You avoided his eyes, fiddling with a strand of your hair nervously. "nothing, just..." you mumbled, "I was wondering if I should colour it."
Nanami hummed and brought a hand to your head, threading his fingers through your hair and tugging you closer until your chest brushed against his. "hmm? why, baby? I mean, if you want to, of course. what colour do you have in mind, hmm?" he asked, voice turning warm again as he tilted his head and nuzzled into your chest. He licked over your nipple suddenly, making you jerk slightly.
"Ahhh! nghh... uhmm... do you think I’d look prettier in blonde?"
He paused to press a kiss against your tit, then glanced up. "blonde? hmm. well, I think black suits your eyes more, makes you look soft and sweet."
Another slow lick over your nipple. "but yeah, you’d still be pretty in blonde. you’d look pretty with anything."
You blinked down at him. "Ohh... hmm... okay..."
He raised an eyebrow, then chuckled softly. "why sweetheart? did gojo ask you to colour your hair?"
You quickly shook your head, lips pressing together. Nanami smirked and leaned up to kiss your lips, a slow, lingering kiss that soothed your nerves. You gently pulled away, slipping from the bed, naked still, as your eyes caught sight of his coat on the table. You padded over, slipped it over your shoulders, and hugged the fabric close. Nanami sat up on the bed, admiring the view with a soft groan.
"Nanamin… do I look good in this?"
His eyes dragged over you hungry and admiring, as he huffed a little laugh. "In a blazer? course, yeah. you look like a boss lady who’s about to ruin a man’s life."
You blushed a little, biting your lip. "s-so… does this style suit me more?"
He narrowed his eyes, sensing the undertone in your voice. "you look good in everything, baby. no matter what you wear."
You hesitated, then mumbled, "but... do you like this type of dress more than… my usual?"
Nanami stood, walking over to you completely naked, still semi-hard and completely unbothered by it. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in. "I didn’t say that," he kissed your forehead. "I said you always look pretty. whatever you wear."
You stared up at him with wide eyes before dragging him back to bed and slowly sitting on his lap, facing him skin to skin now, his cock twitching against your thigh. You curled your arms around his neck.
"Can I ask you something again?" you asked quietly. He smirked, brushing his thumb along your jaw.
"Oh? you sure have a lot of questions tonight. come on, ask me."
"Who… was that woman?"
You tried to sound casual, keeping your tone soft, neutral. But he picked up on it right away. Nanami blinked, then gave a small exhale. "an ex-colleague. we worked together for about five years."
"Were you close with her?"
"Not really. just professional stuff. I saw her today after more than a year."
Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of the coat. "are you going to see her again?"
Nanami tilted his head slightly. "she did mention grabbing a coffee sometime to catch up. why, dear?"
You looked away. "no… nothing..."
He went quiet for a moment. The silence hung in the air before you whispered again. "..umm... nanamin?"
"Yes, love?"
You took a shaky breath. "do you like... women your age more?"
He blinked, brows furrowing, before his face broke into an incredulous little chuckle. "Ohh... so this is what it’s about, huh?"
"Wh-what—" you quickly shook your head, eyes wide and cheeks burning.
"Jealous, dear?"
"I’m not—jealous! why would I be—"
"Mmmhm." he leaned in, kissing your pout. "my pretty little girl’s all possessive for me, huh?"
You looked away again. He cradled your face with one hand and murmured, "she’s just an old friend, baby. married. has kids. even if she wasn’t—it wouldn’t matter." He pulled your face back to his. "I have you. yeah?"
You looked into his eyes, soft and hopeful. "promise?" He smiled and then bit down on your nipple without warning. "ah! nanamin!"
"Promise." He grinned, lips tugging at your sensitive flesh before letting go with a wet pop. "jealousy looks real good on you, baby..." He moved to your other nipple and sucked hard, swirling his tongue. "...but you’d look even better bouncing on my cock again, wouldn’t you?"
You slapped a hand over his mouth, cheeks flushed. "don’t say that!"
He laughed against your skin, licking your palm teasingly before pulling your hand down and murmuring, "c’mon... just one more round, yeah? wanna fill you up, make sure you know who you belong to."
His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing tight. "you’re not leaving this bed till I’ve fucked that jealousy right out of you, baby."
Your breath caught in your throat as he lifted you effortlessly, lining you up on his cock again and then he paused, smirking, "still wanna question me, sweetheart? or are you ready to get fucked dumb again?"
wanna be on the taglist? sign up here 🔗
THIN WALLS
pairing: Heeseung x fem!reader
synopsis: in which your new roommate is stupidly hot, fucks a different girl almost every other night, and the walls between your rooms are painfully thin. now you’re stuck listening to heeseung ruin someone else while slowly losing your mind… and your sanity.
genre/cw: roommate au, fuckboy!heeseung, heavy sexual tension, slow burn, smut, angst, mutual masturbation, voyeurism (accidental), dirty talk, possessiveness, jealousy, multiple smut scenes, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, marking, slight corruption kink, heeseung is a massive tease, reader is sexually frustrated, strong language, minors dni.
Taglist: @rizz00 @jiwonniethepooh @starboyhee @enhasdihsucker @playboybxnnie @whyme11 @luucortis @kookiesnkim @unknowacczzz @bingka @saamaoaiwyq @lolaaisheretogetrurnedup @cherryw0n @isagistar @heeinme @missoxy @aurixhyc @jungwonsrealwife1 @sxpafh @every-w @debs-no-filter @noisyjunglegorgon @heelvcr @hyyhwriter @verywastelandninja @babbatt @adorenishimura @matchayumeee @inyourheartxx @beaepa @prettygirlthings-world @htuoyass @630hee @irisseungz @rayofsunshineeee @yenienha @hazeheart12 @laurelzzzz @loverofmusic0027 @ellushic @atalkwithsenju @x-odid @1013wrld @freshtaledonut @iveivory @jinniezret @zijoan
*some accounts couldn't be tagged idk why....
a/n: hii loves <3 this fic took over my brain in the best way possible. the tension was too good to keep it short so here we are. thank you for waiting and i really hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡
Now playing -
♪ One Of The Girls — The Weeknd, Jennie, Lily-Rose Depp
♪ Heaven — Julia Michaels
♪ Slow Down — Chase Atlantic
The apartment smelled like stale beer, cheap cologne, and regret.
It clung to the walls.
To the couch.
To the cracked kitchen counter littered with empty cans and takeout boxes that had been sitting there long enough to become part of the furniture.
You stood in the doorway of your bedroom with your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, fingers digging into your sleeves while your roommate stumbled through the apartment like a ghost haunting his own bad decisions.
“Fuck,” Minho muttered, kicking an empty soju bottle across the floor.
It slammed against the wall with a sharp clatter that made you flinch. “Where’s my phone…”
It was 2:47 a.m.
Again.
He laughed at absolutely nothing, swaying slightly as he checked under couch cushions and inside cabinets as if his phone had magically teleported into the kitchen sink.
You closed your eyes for a second.
Four nights in a row.
Four nights of drunken strangers crowding the living room.
Four nights of loud music vibrating through the walls.
Four nights of Minho getting too close when he talked to you, his breath heavy with alcohol while he leaned against your bedroom doorframe saying things that made your stomach twist.
You’d started locking your door every night.
Started sleeping with headphones in.
Started memorizing the quickest route from your room to the apartment exit just in case. And maybe that sounded dramatic, but fear had a way of making everything feel sharp around the edges.
You couldn’t do this anymore.
The next morning, you called Jake while speed-walking to work, coffee sloshing dangerously in your cup.
“Dude,” you said before he could even say hello, “I need a new place. Like immediately.”
Jake snorted. “Good morning to you too.”
“I’m serious. My roommate is a drunk disaster and I genuinely think I’m one bad night away from becoming a true crime documentary.”
That got his attention.
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” you said quickly. “That’s the problem. I keep waiting for something to happen.”
There was a brief silence on the other end.
Then-
“Actually…” Jake dragged the word out thoughtfully. “I think I know someone.” You nearly cried from relief right there on the sidewalk.
“My friend Heeseung’s roommate moved out recently. Moved in with his girlfriend or something. He’s looking for someone to take the spare room.”
“Is it affordable?”
“Shockingly.”
“Is it clean?”
“Very.”
“Does he murder people?”
Jake laughed. “Not that I know of.”
“Perfect. Send me the address.”
“Wait,” Jake said quickly, “there’s something you should probably know first—”
“Jake, I love you,” you interrupted. “You’re a lifesaver.” And then you hung up before he could finish.
The apartment building was only twelve minutes away from your office.
Twelve.
You almost wanted to kiss the sidewalk.
The building itself was modern and quiet-looking, all clean windows and soft lighting in the lobby. The kind of place where people probably recycled properly and didn’t blast EDM at three in the morning.
Already an upgrade.
You stood outside apartment 407, suddenly aware of your heartbeat.
Then you rang the bell.
A few seconds later, the door opened. And your brain stopped functioning entirely.
Oh.
Oh no.
Jake had failed to mention that his friend looked like that. Tall enough that you had to tilt your head slightly upward. Broad shoulders filling out a black t-shirt that looked soft enough to ruin lives. Dark hair falling messily over his forehead like he’d pushed his fingers through it one too many times.
Sharp eyes.
Really sharp eyes. The kind that lingered.
“You’re Jake’s friend?”
His voice was low and rough around the edges, like he’d just woken up.
You swallowed.
“Y-yeah.”
Smooth. Very smooth.
“I’m here about the room.”
For a second, he simply looked at you. Not in a rude way.
Just… quietly observant. Then he stepped aside.
“Come in.”
The apartment was nicer than you expected.
Warm lighting.
Clean counters.
A gray couch facing a large TV.
Plants near the windows that somehow looked alive, which meant someone here was capable of responsibility. Probably not you.
“Kitchen’s yours whenever,” Heeseung said as you walked further inside. “Bathroom cabinet’s split down the middle. And the room’s this way.”
You followed him down the hallway, hyperaware of how close he was.
The room itself wasn’t huge, but it was perfect, Enough space for your bed and desk.
A decent closet. Big window. Natural light.
Heeseung leaned against the doorframe while you looked around.
“It’s not anything fancy,” he said. “But it’s decent.”
You turned toward him immediately. “I’ll take it.”
One eyebrow lifted slightly. “You don’t want to think about it first?”
“Nope.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
His mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
“Alright then.”
You signed the papers that same evening.
Heeseung explained the basics while you filled things out at the kitchen counter.
Rent due at the beginning of the month.
No smoking inside.
Take your shoes off near the entrance because apparently the downstairs neighbor complained about footsteps once and never emotionally recovered from it.
Simple. Easy. Normal.
Before you left, Heeseung glanced at his phone and sighed quietly.
“I won’t be home tomorrow,” he said. “Work thing. So you can move in without me getting in the way.”
“That’s actually perfect.” He nodded once. Then his gaze flicked toward you again briefly, unreadable.
“See you tomorrow.”
—
Moving day felt like breathing properly for the first time in months. You unpacked everything slowly, taking your time decorating your room exactly how you wanted. String lights. Soft blankets. Your favorite books stacked neatly beside the bed.
By evening, your room finally looked like yours.
After a long shower, you changed into oversized sleep clothes and nearly melted into relief when you crawled into bed.
No yelling. No music. No drunk strangers.
You were halfway to your bedroom door after grabbing water from the kitchen when the front door suddenly opened.
You froze.
Heeseung walked inside.
But he wasn’t alone.
A girl was wrapped around him before the door had even fully shut, kissing him like she’d been starving for it. Her hands tangled in his hair while his gripped her waist hard enough to pull a gasp from her mouth.
“Oh my god,” she breathed against his lips. Heeseung laughed softly — low and dangerous.
Your face immediately burned. You should leave.
Instead, your feet stayed rooted to the floor for two horrifying seconds while Heeseung backed her against the wall and kissed her again, slower this time.
His hand disappeared under her shirt. She made a sound that went straight through you.
Then his eyes lifted.
And met yours.
Everything stopped.
For half a second, neither of you moved.
The girl was still clinging to him, too distracted to notice. You felt heat crawl violently up your neck.
“Sorry,” you blurted out.
You practically fled down the hallway and locked yourself in your bedroom like your life depended on it.
What the actual fuck. What the fuck was that?
Maybe he didn’t even see you properly. Maybe—
A muffled moan echoed through the wall. Your eyes widened. Oh, you had to be kidding.
You threw yourself into bed and pulled a pillow over your head.
It did absolutely nothing. Every sound slipped through them effortlessly. The couch creaking rhythmically. Soft gasps. His voice — lower now, rough enough that it curled strangely in your stomach.
“Yeah?” you heard faintly. “That feel good?” You nearly died on the spot.
You shoved your earbuds in so aggressively one almost fell out.
You tried to sleep.
You really did.
But the walls were thin.
Extremely thin that You could hear everything. Her breathy moans.
His deep, husky groans.
The wet sounds.
This could not be your life.
And yet somehow, despite your embarrassment and horror and genuine desire to evaporate into dust—Your heart wouldn’t calm down.
—
The next morning, sunlight spilled across the kitchen while you stood half-awake beside the coffee machine. You were still mentally recovering from the previous night when the hallway door opened.
A gorgeous girl walked out.
Behind her came Heeseung.
Shirtless.
Fresh from the shower.
Your brain short-circuited for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. Water still clung to his skin. His dark hair was damp, pushed loosely away from his forehead, and gray sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips.
You stared at your coffee like it had personally betrayed you.
“Text me later,” the girl said with a grin. Heeseung leaned down and kissed her lazily.
“Drive safe.” Then the door shut behind her.
Silence settled.
And slowly—Heeseung turned toward you.
There it was again. That stupidly attractive half-smile.
“Morning.”
“Morning,” you squeaked..
He walked toward the fridge completely unbothered by the fact that he looked like a problem specifically designed to ruin your peace.
“How was moving in yesterday?” he asked casually while grabbing a water bottle. “Sorry I couldn’t help.”
“It’s okay. I managed.”
“Good.” He twisted the bottle cap open, taking a long drink before glancing at you again.
“I hope I didn’t disturb you last night.”
You nearly inhaled your own tongue.
“I didn’t hear anything.” A pause. Then one corner of his mouth lifted slowly.
Like he knew you were lying.
“Right.” Heat flooded your face instantly.
Heeseung leaned against the counter across from you, arms crossing over his chest. “We should probably set some roommate rules.”
You nodded quickly.
He started listing them casually.
Laundry schedule. Cleaning rotation. No surprise guests for longer than a week.
Then you cleared your throat awkwardly.
“I’d also appreciate,” you said carefully, “if there weren’t drunk people screaming in the apartment at three a.m.”
His expression softened slightly.
“Fair enough.” You relaxed a little.
Then he added casually: “I do bring girls over pretty often, though.” Your spoon stopped moving.
“The walls are thin,” he continued, voice smooth. “So you might wanna invest in better headphones.”
The way he said it felt intentional.
Teasing.
Dangerously close to flirting.
You looked up despite yourself.
Big mistake.
Heeseung was already watching you.
Completely focused. Like he was waiting to see how you’d react.
“I’ll survive,” you said.
His smile deepened slowly.
“We’ll see.” The words followed you like a promise.
—
The apartment was quiet for most of the evening since you returned from work. You tried not to think about him while unpacking the last few boxes scattered around your room. Tried not to think about the way his wet hair had curled slightly at the ends this morning. It irritated you. Mostly because your body seemed determined to betray you every single time he walked into a room.
By midnight, you were buried under your blankets scrolling mindlessly through your phone, half-asleep already.
Then you heard the front door open.
Your stomach dropped instantly.
A girl laughed softly from the hallway. Heeseung said something too low for you to hear, followed by another laugh — quieter this time, more breathless.
Then came the sound of kissing. Your thumb froze against your screen. It was impossible not to hear.
The kind of kissing that sounded like they’d barely made it through the front door before losing patience completely. You squeezed your eyes shut. Ignore it.....Just ignore it.
A soft thud hit the wall outside your room, followed by a muffled gasp. “Fuck,” the girl whispered breathlessly.
Your heartbeat stumbled. You could practically picture it without meaning to — Heeseung pressing her against the hallway wall, one large hand on her waist while she tangled herself around him. His head tilted down. His mouth moving slow and filthy against hers.
“Someone’s impatient tonight,” he murmured. His voice traveled through the thin walls far too clearly. Heat pooled embarrassingly low in your stomach.
You threw your blanket over your head like that would somehow help.
It didn’t.
Their footsteps moved toward the living room. Then the couch creaked loudly. You stared at the ceiling in horror.
No way.
Not again.
A breathy moan slipped through the wall. Another...
Then his voice again, softer now — the kind of tone that made your skin prickle. Your entire body went rigid.
You should put your headphones in.
You should turn on music.
You should literally do anything except lie there listening.
Instead, you stayed perfectly still beneath your blankets, pulse racing harder with every sound that drifted down the hallway. The couch shifted rhythmically. The girl let out another broken moan. Every noise felt vivid enough to crawl beneath your skin.
And the worst part? Your body reacted before your brain could stop it. Heat spread slowly between your thighs. You pressed them together immediately, horrified.
No....
You were not getting turned on by your roommate having sex ten feet away from you.
Another sharp gasp echoed through the wall.
God.
The walls really were thin.
You buried your face into your pillow with a frustrated groan, trying desperately not to imagine his hands, his mouth, the way he probably looked hovering over someone with that same dark stare he always gave you. The sounds only continued..
By the time the apartment finally fell silent, your heart was still pounding hard enough to keep you awake for another hour.
—
The second night was somehow worse. Maybe because now you knew exactly what to expect. Or maybe because Heeseung seemed completely aware of the effect he had on people.
Including you.
Which was deeply unfortunate.
You had just stepped out of the shower when you heard the apartment door unlock around midnight. Steam still clung to your skin as you rubbed your towel through your damp hair. You wore nothing but an oversized t-shirt and panties, too tired to bother finding actual sleep shorts yet.
Then laughter drifted into the apartment.
Female.
Oh my god...Again?
You took exactly one step toward your bedroom before the front door swung fully open.
And there he was.
Heeseung walked inside with a girl wrapped around him like she physically couldn’t stand being more than two inches away from him. Long dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Sharp eyeliner. Tiny black dress hugging every curve of her body.
Wait - isn't that minjeong?
Heeseung barely managed to kick the door shut before kissing her. The girl gasped softly as he backed her against the wall, one hand gripping her waist while the other slid down her thigh.
“Missed you,” she whispered against his mouth.
Heeseung laughed quietly. “Yeah?” Then he lifted her leg around his hip effortlessly.
You nearly stopped breathing.
You should leave.
Instead, you stared. Mesmerized in the worst possible way. Heeseung’s head dipped toward her neck slowly, lips brushing her skin while she tilted her head back with a soft moan. Then he guided her toward his bedroom, fingers hooked around her thigh possessively as they disappeared behind the door.
Silence lasted exactly three seconds.
Then—“Oh my god—” And then the real torture began.
Minjeong was loud. Shamelessly loud. The headboard hit the shared wall with a loud bang. Your eyes widened. You had to be cursed.
“Heeseung—”The moan echoed shamelessly through the apartment. You grabbed your pillow aggressively and screamed into it. It did nothing. Nothing could save you from this. The wet slap of skin. His low groans breaking occasionally into quiet curses that made your stomach tighten embarrassingly hard.
And his voice—God, his voice.
You physically felt your thighs press together. Your body betrayed you instantly. Heat spread lower and lower until your entire face burned with humiliation.
You hated this. Hated how easy it was to picture him. The broad shoulders. The messy black hair falling into his eyes. The silver necklace resting against tan skin while he hovered over someone else. Your breathing turned uneven. You shifted beneath your blankets restlessly, squeezing your eyes shut.
Ignore it.
Ignore it.
Ignore—A loud moan cut through the wall.
Without fully meaning to, your hand slipped slowly beneath the blanket. Just for relief. Just enough to stop feeling so painfully aware of your own body. Your fingers brushed between your thighs and you nearly choked. You were soaked.
Heat flooded your face instantly. “Oh my god,” you whispered to yourself.
You imagined those hands touching you instead. Imagined his voice in your ear instead of through the wall. Your fingers moved carefully at first, hesitant and embarrassed, but the sounds coming from his room made it impossible to think properly. The pace of the bed grew faster. Minjeong’s moans turned louder, more broken. Your body followed helplessly. Every sound pushed you closer to the edge.
You bit down hard on your lip to stay quiet, trembling beneath your blankets while pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your stomach. Your orgasm hit hard enough to make your thighs shake. You buried your face into the pillow immediately to muffle the sound that escaped you, chest heaving while frustration and humiliation crashed together inside your ribs.
Because this was insane.
Actually insane.
You had known this man for less than a week. And somehow he was already ruining you without even touching you...
—
The next morning, you woke up determined to avoid him. Which should have been easy. Except fate clearly hated you. You shuffled into the kitchen quietly, hoping to grab coffee before escaping to work unnoticed. Instead, you nearly walked directly into Heeseung.
Your brain stopped functioning instantly. He stood near the stove shirtless, flipping toast lazily in a pair of gray sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips.
The silver Chrome Hearts necklace resting against his chest caught the morning light every time he moved. Your eyes lingered for one fatal second too long. Because his chest was unfair. Broad shoulders. Defined stomach. Tan skin scattered with faint red scratches that disappeared beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Evidence of last night. Your face immediately heated.
“Morning,” he said casually. Like he hadn’t completely destroyed your sanity through a shared wall six hours ago.
“Morning,” you croaked. He glanced over his shoulder at you while reaching for a mug. And then—His eyes narrowed slightly. A slow smirk appeared.
Oh no.
“You look tired.” You nearly dropped your phone.
“I’m not.”
“Hm.” He sounded unconvinced. Very unconvinced. You moved quickly toward the coffee machine before he could say anything else. Unfortunately, Heeseung seemed to enjoy your suffering. A lot.
“Sleep okay?” he asked lightly.
“Yes.” Lie.
A soft laugh left him. You refused to turn around. The smell of toast drifted through the kitchen while silence stretched between you awkwardly.
Then Heeseung spoke again..
“By the way… you froze last night when I came in with Minjeong. Looked like you saw a ghost.” Your heart skipped.
You hesitated, then muttered, “I… used to know her. We made out once. A few years ago.”
Heeseung choked on his coffee. He set the mug down, staring at you with wide eyes. “You what?”
Your face burned instantly.
“It was years ago,” you muttered quickly. “At a party.” Heeseung was staring at you differently.
Not badly.
Worse. Interested. Something unreadable flickered behind his dark eyes as he set his mug down carefully.
“Wow,” he said softly. Heat crept slowly up your neck.
“You say that like it’s shocking.”
“I mean…” His mouth curved slightly. “Didn’t expect it.” You rolled your eyes immediately.
“What does that even mean?” His eyebrows lifted slowly.
“Wait… so you’re into girls?” You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant even though your face was burning.
“Let's say I’m bisexual. It was three years ago. Not that deep.”
For a moment, Heeseung just looked at you, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. Then his lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile.
“Woah… that’s hot. I didn’t know you were like that.” He stepped closer, voice dropping.
“Tell me… what did you two do?” he asked casually.
Your eyes widened.
“Oh my god.”
“What?” he said innocently.
“You’re such a pervert.” He laughed quietly. Deep.
“But now I’m curious.”
“You do realize that’s weird, right?”
“Probably.” He stepped even closer. Close enough that you could smell his body wash again — clean and expensive underneath the faint trace of last night lingering on his skin. The necklace resting against his chest shifted slightly when he leaned against the counter beside you.
“But you look so straight the way you were staring at my abs earlier,” he murmured, thumb brushing your hip.
“Or was that my imagination?” Your breath hitched. You could feel the heat radiating from his body. For a second, neither of you moved. Then you pulled away abruptly.
“I was not.”
“I could never be attracted to someone who changes girls every night,” you mumbled, grabbing your toast and heading for the door.
“You were.” His voice dropped lower.
“Pretty sure your eyes were glued right here.” He tapped lightly just below his ribs.
“That’s literally not true.”
“Hm.” His fingers brushed suddenly against your waist. Barely there. But enough to make your breath catch. The touch felt deliberate. Testing. Your stomach tightened violently. Heeseung noticed immediately. A slow smile spread across his face.
“Interesting.”
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“This.” You gestured vaguely between the two of you. “Flirting.” His eyebrows lifted slightly.
“You think I’m flirting with you?” The question made your chest tighten unexpectedly. Because suddenly you weren’t sure. You opened your mouth. Closed it again. And Heeseung smiled like he’d won something.
“You’re cute when you get nervous,” he said softly. Your brain short-circuited. You stepped back so quickly you almost bumped into the counter.
“I could never like someone who changes girls every night,” you blurted out. The words hung awkwardly in the air. For a second, Heeseung just looked at you. Then he laughed. Low and amused. Not offended in the slightest.
“Cute,” he repeated. Your face burned hotter. You grabbed your toast aggressively before escaping the kitchen as fast as your dignity would allow.
The days blurred into a dangerous routine. You threw yourself into work at the advertising agency, designing campaigns late into the evening just to avoid being home when Heeseung returned. But no matter how late you stayed, you always came back to the same apartment. And almost every other night, he brought someone home. a new girl — different hair, different voice, same desperate moans that pierced straight through the thin walls. You started keeping earphones on your nightstand like a weapon, but more often than not, you found yourself abandoning them. Because the ache had become unbearable.
One particularly bad Friday night, after listening to Heeseung fuck a girl so thoroughly that she screamed his name loud enough to wake the neighbors, you couldn’t take it anymore.
You opened a new tab on your phone with trembling fingers and searched for “quiet vibrator.” Thirty minutes later, you were standing outside a 24-hour convenience store near the station, buying the discreet pink bullet vibrator with flushed cheeks and a racing heart.
When you got home, the apartment was finally quiet. Heeseung’s door was closed. You slipped into your room, locked the door, and pulled the small toy out of the packaging.
You felt ridiculous. Pathetic, even. But the frustration had been building for weeks.
You lay back on your bed, pulled your shorts down, and turned the vibrator on the lowest setting. The soft buzz filled the room. The moment it touched your clit, your back arched off the mattress.
“Fuck…” you whispered. You closed your eyes and let the fantasies take over. It was Heeseung’s hands instead of silicone. His long fingers. That necklace dangling above you as he hovered over your body. His low, raspy voice whispering filthy....You turned the speed higher. Your hips rolled against the toy, chasing the pleasure as you remembered every moan you’d heard through the wall — the way he groaned when he was close. Your free hand gripped the sheets as the pressure built fast and overwhelming. When you came, it hit you like a wave — thighs shaking, lips parted in a silent cry, back bowing off the bed.
For a few blissful seconds, the frustration finally eased. But the relief never lasted long.
The next morning, you woke up late.You rushed into the kitchen, still half-asleep, hoping to grab something quick and leave.
Heeseung was already there, as usual.
Shirtless. His hair was damp, and there were fresh scratch marks on his shoulder.
“Morning,” he said casually, pouring himself coffee. His eyes flicked over you slowly. “You look… flushed. Rough night?”
Your heart skipped. “I’m fine.”
He stepped closer, setting his mug down. The scent of his body wash wrapped around you. He reached past you to grab a banana from the counter, deliberately brushing his bare arm against yours.
“You sure?” His voice dropped. “Because I could’ve sworn I heard something interesting last night.”
Your stomach dropped. Heeseung smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. He didn’t push further, but the knowing look in his eyes stayed with you all day.
From that night on, something shifted. Heeseung started getting louder. Deliberately louder.
One night, you heard him tell the girl he brought home, “Don’t hold back, baby. Let the whole apartment hear how good I’m fucking you.” The headboard slammed harder.
Heeseung’s groans were deeper, rougher, like he wanted you to hear every single sound. You hated how much it affected you. You used the vibrator almost every night now. Each time, the fantasies grew more vivid.
One evening, you came home exhausted from a long day at the agency. Heeseung wasn’t there yet. You took a long shower, then decided to relieve some stress before he came back with another girl. You were lying on your bed, completely naked, legs spread, vibrator pressed firmly against your clit on the highest setting. Your hips bucked desperately as you chased release.
“Heeseung…” you whimpered quietly, lost in the fantasy. “Fuck— please…” The pleasure built fast and intense. Your free hand pinched your nipple, back arching as the vibrator buzzed relentlessly against your clit. You were so close — right on the edge —The front door opened.
You froze for a moment. But it was too late to stop. Your orgasm crashed over you hard, a broken moan escaping despite your best efforts. You bit your pillow, body shaking violently as waves of pleasure rolled through you.
You didn’t hear Heeseung’s footsteps pause in the hallway. Or the way he stood there for a long moment, listening.
One morning you were searching for the vibrator that you lost because you were so comfortable playing with it in the couch last night since you were alone and when you heard the door open you fled to your room forgetting it. So you walked into the kitchen praying he’d already left.
No such luck. Heeseung was leaning against the counter as usual.
He was holding your pink vibrator. Twirling it between his long fingers with a dark, amused smirk.
Your soul left your body. when did he get that?
“Looking for this?” he asked casually, voice low and teasing. He held it up, eyes locked on yours. “Found it on the couch while I was looking for my charger. Interesting choice, princess.”
You wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Heeseung stepped closer, backing you against the kitchen counter. The necklace swayed between you as he leaned in, breath warm against your ear.
“Been using this while listening to me fuck other girls?” His voice dropped to a whisper.
“Moaning my name like that last night… you’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be, are you?” Your face burned with humiliation and arousal. You couldn’t speak. Heeseung pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark with something dangerous and hungry. The vibrator still dangled from his fingers like a taunt.
“So…” he murmured, thumb brushing your bottom lip.
“How long are we going to keep pretending?”
You stepped away from him and took the item from his hand and walked away without answering his questions. You can hear his chuckle behind you. You were so embarrassed.
The next few days passed in a haze of unbearable tension. Until one Thursday evening, everything changed. You came home from work earlier than usual, exhausted from a long client meeting. The moment you stepped inside, you froze. Heeseung was already home. He was sprawled on the couch in black sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt, his necklace visible against his collarbones. His hair was messy, cheeks slightly flushed, and he looked… unwell.
“You’re home early,” you said, surprised. Heeseung glanced at you, voice raspy. “Caught a cold. Boss sent me home.” He coughed lightly, looking miserable but still unfairly attractive. You didn’t say anything. You simply went to the kitchen, rolled up your sleeves, and started cooking. Thirty minutes later, you placed a steaming bowl of warm chicken soup in front of him. Heeseung stared at it for a long moment, then looked up at you with genuine surprise.
“You made this… for me?” You shrugged, suddenly shy. “You look like shit. Eat.” He smiled — soft, almost boyish — and ate slowly while you sat across from him. For the first time, you two had a real conversation. He told you about his work at the studio, how stressful deadlines were. You told him about your annoying clients at the agency. The atmosphere felt strangely… domestic.
When he finished, he leaned back and murmured, “Thank you. That was really good.” You nodded, about to stand up when his next words stopped you cold.
“So…” Heeseung smirked, eyes darkening. “Why did you need a vibrator?” Your face exploded with heat.
“I— I don’t use it. It was just… there.” Heeseung laughed, low and amused. He stood up slowly and walked around the table until he was right in front of you.
“If you’re that horny or stressed,” he said, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, “you can use me instead.”
The air thickened instantly. Your heart slammed against your ribs. “Heeseung…”
“Trust me,” he murmured, stepping closer until your back hit the counter. “I’m very good at relieving stress.”
Before you could respond, his hands were on you. One slid around your waist, gripping firmly. The other dipped into the waistband of your low-rise pants, long fingers slipping beneath your panties. You gasped as he found you already wet.
“Fuck… so soaked already,” he breathed against your ear, the Chrome Hearts necklace brushing your chest. “All this time listening to me… and you never said anything?” Two fingers circled your clit slowly, teasingly, before sliding down to your entrance. He pushed one finger inside you, then another, curling them perfectly against that spot that made your knees weak. You moaned softly, gripping his shoulders. Heeseung worked his fingers expertly — slow and deep at first, then faster, thumb pressing against your clit with every thrust. His mouth hovered near your neck, breath hot as he whispered filthy praises.
“You’re so tight around my fingers, princess.” Your hips rocked against his hand desperately. The pleasure built fast and overwhelming. When you finally came, clenching hard around his fingers, Heeseung watched your face the entire time, eyes dark with lust. He pulled his hand out slowly, bringing his glistening fingers to his mouth and licking them clean.
“Goodnight,” he whispered with a smirk, then turned and walked into his room, leaving you trembling and empty against the counter.
You couldn’t sleep. An hour later, frustration and need burned through your body.You pulled out the vibrator again. You lay on your back, legs spread, and turned it on. The buzz filled the room as you pressed it hard against your swollen clit. Your hips bucked immediately.
“Ah— fuck…” You started slow as usual, then faster, moaning freely as pleasure coursed through you. You were so lost in it that you didn’t hear the door open.
Heeseung stood in the doorway, eyes pitch black with hunger. “Don’t stop,” he said hoarsely. “Please… keep going. I just want to watch.”
You froze. He walked closer, watching every movement.
“Or…” he murmured, climbing onto the bed, “should I help you?” He took the vibrator from your hand, locked eyes with you, and pressed it back against your core. He turned it on high. The sudden intensity made you cry out. Heeseung leaned down and kissed you deeply, swallowing your moans while working the toy against you with perfect pressure. His tongue explored your mouth as he whispered between kisses:“I couldn’t sleep because of the sounds you were making… I was so fucking curious.” You were shaking, so close again.
“I’m— I’m close—” Right as you were about to tip over the edge, he pulled the vibrator away.
You glared at him, frustrated and desperate. “Heeseung—”
He smirked, pushing his sweatpants down. His cock sprang free — thick, hard, and leaking at the tip.
“Not yet, princess.”
He teased your entrance with the head of his cock, rubbing it against your clit, coating himself in your wetness. You were practically begging. “Please…”
Heeseung finally pushed in. The stretch was intense. He sank into you slowly at first, letting you feel every inch, groaning deeply as your walls clenched around him.
“Fuck… so tight,” he hissed. Then he started moving. He fucked you hard and deep, hips snapping against yours with rhythm. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. Heeseung’s necklace swung above you with every thrust as he gripped your thighs, spreading you wider.
“Look at me,” he growled, pounding into you relentlessly. You moaned his name like a prayer, nails digging into his back. Heeseung kissed you messily, biting your lip as he drove deeper, hitting that perfect spot over and over. When you finally came around him, clenching hard, Heeseung followed right after with a broken groan, burying himself deep as he spilled inside you.
The next morning felt like a slap to the face. Heeseung acted like nothing had happened. He moved around the kitchen with the same effortless confidence as always — When you walked in, he glanced at you with a casual smile, like he hadn’t spent the previous night buried deep inside you.
“Morning,” he said lightly, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Want some?” You stood there frozen, heart squeezing painfully. What did you expect? He was a fuckboy. This was what fuckboys did. They fucked you senseless, made you feel wanted for a few hours, then acted like it was just another Tuesday. The realization hurt more than you wanted to admit.
You forced a small nod. “Yeah… thanks.” Heeseung handed you the mug without another word. No teasing. No lingering touches. No acknowledgment of the way you’d moaned his name just hours ago. You drank your coffee in silence, feeling cheap and stupid. Of course he doesn’t care. You’re just another girl who lives next door. The thought stung.
To your shock that evening, Heeseung brought another girl home. You heard the front door open, followed by giggles and sloppy kissing.
This time, it wasn’t just arousal you felt — it was pure anger. Jealousy burned hot in your chest as you lay in bed listening to him fuck her. Every moan, every creak of the bed, every “Fuck, Heeseung, you’re so good” felt like a personal insult. You hated how much it affected you. You hated yourself for caring.
So the next night, you decided you were done being pathetic. You went clubbing. You didn’t drink much — just two cocktails to take the edge off. You danced, flirted, and eventually left with a guy named Jihoon. He was tall, charming enough, and seemed genuinely interested.
You brought him back to the apartment.
When you walked through the door, Heeseung was already there, sitting on the couch in the dark, scrolling through his phone. His eyes snapped up when he saw you with another man. Shock, then something darker, flashed across his face.
You didn’t care.
You pulled Jihoon straight into your room and closed the door with a loud click. You made sure to be loud. You moaned exaggeratedly as Jihoon touched you, even though his hands were clumsy and he finished embarrassingly fast.
He didn’t make you cum. Not even close.
But you kept moaning anyway — loud, breathy, dramatic — making sure every single sound traveled through the thin walls.
Heeseung lost it.
A few minutes after Jihoon collapsed beside you, loud knocking echoed through your door. You quickly threw on a robe and opened it. Heeseung stood there, jaw clenched, eyes burning with barely contained fury.
“What the fuck are you trying to do?” he hissed, voice low.
You lifted your chin defiantly. “I’m just having a good time. Is that a problem?”
His eyes darkened. “You’re being too fucking noisy. And we both know that guy isn’t making you moan like that.”
You laughed bitterly. “How would you know?”
Heeseung stepped forward, grabbing your wrist and pulling you out into the hallway. He shut your door behind you, trapping you against the wall.
“Did he make you cum?” he asked, voice deadly quiet, eyes locked on yours.
You stayed silent.
He smirked, dangerous and knowing. “Exactly. See? I can make you cum with just my fingers.” Before you could respond, he kissed you — hard, possessive. His hands gripped your waist as he whispered against your lips, “Let that idiot sleep. Come enjoy yourself with me.”
He dragged you into his room. And started undressing...
Heeseung pushed his pants down, revealing his hard, throbbing cock, then lay back on the bed.
“Come here, princess. Ride me.”
You wanted to say no but you couldn't resist so you straddled him, grinding your soaked pussy along his length. The raw, hot contact made both of you hiss. Heeseung’s head fell back, eyes squeezed shut.
“Fuck… don’t tease me like that,” he groaned.
You sank down slowly. He was so thick it burned in the best way. The moment you took all of him, you clenched hard around his cock. Heeseung whimpered — a broken, beautiful sound — his hands gripping your waist tightly. You started riding him desperately, tits bouncing with every movement. Heeseung stared like he was hypnotized, one hand holding your waist while the other squeezed your breast, thumb brushing your nipple. When your pace faltered from exhaustion, he thrust up hard, fucking you deep while you were pressed chest to chest.
“You kept moaning so loud because you wanted me to hear it, right?” he growled, hips snapping up relentlessly. “You wanted me to know how badly you needed my cock.”
You came hard around him, as pleasure ripped through you. Heeseung didn’t stop. He flipped you onto your stomach, pulled your ass up, and slammed back into you from behind.
His stamina was insane.
He fucked you like he was punishing you — deep, powerful thrusts that made your eyes roll back. You came again, burying your face in the pillow to muffle your screams as he gripped your ass and pounded into you. Only then did he finally let go, burying himself to the hilt as he came with a deep groan.
After you both caught your breath, Heeseung pulled you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder.
“I hope we didn’t disturb your guest,” he said, smirking. You let out a tired laugh despite yourself.
Then his voice turned serious.
“I was waiting for you,” he admitted quietly. “I wanted to apologize for acting like nothing happened after we… you know. But when I saw you come home with that guy… I lost it.” He brushed your hair back, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.
“I don’t want anyone else hearing you moan.”
You looked up at him, heart racing, unsure what this meant for the two of you. But for tonight, you let yourself stay in his arms.
｡･ω･｡♡｡･ω･｡
The morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains. You woke up tangled in Heeseung’s sheets, his arm slung over your waist and his necklace cool against your bare back. He was still asleep, breathing steady, looking far too peaceful for someone who had ruined you multiple times last night.
A loud knock on the front door made you jolt.
Then another. Then a very confused voice:
“...Hello? Is anyone there?”
Your stomach dropped.
Jihoon.
The guy you had completely forgotten about in your room.
Heeseung stirred beside you, cracking one eye open. A lazy, mischievous smirk spread across his face the second he registered what was happening.
“Oh no,” he whispered, voice raspy with sleep and amusement. “You left your little toy in the other room.”
“Shut up,” you hissed, face burning as you scrambled for clothes. You threw on one of Heeseung’s shirts and rushed out, trying to fix your messy hair on the way.
When you opened the door to your bedroom, Jihoon was standing there awkwardly, fully dressed, looking equal parts confused and concerned.
“Hey… um,” he scratched the back of his neck.
“I woke up and you were gone. I thought maybe you got kidnapped or something.”
Behind you, Heeseung appeared in the hallway. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, looking entirely too satisfied.
Jihoon’s eyes flicked between you two. The pieces clicked slowly in his head.
“Oh,” he said, voice flat. “...Okay.”
You wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole.
“I’m really sorry,” you said quickly. “Last night was… a lot. I didn’t mean to ditch you like that.”
Jihoon let out a weak laugh, clearly uncomfortable. “Yeah, no worries. I, uh… heard a lot. Through the wall but I thought it was just in my head. Turns out you guys are… very enthusiastic.”
Heeseung coughed to hide a laugh.
Jihoon gave you one last awkward nod. “I’ll just… see myself out. Nice meeting you. Both of you, I guess.”
The second the front door closed behind him, Heeseung burst out laughing, pulling you back against his chest.
“Poor guy,” he chuckled. “He came here thinking he was getting laid and ended up listening to me fuck his date all night.”
You groaned, hiding your face in his neck. “I’m never bringing anyone home again.”
“Good,” Heeseung murmured, voice dropping as his hands slid under your shirt. “Because the only person moaning in this apartment from now on is you. And I want to hear every single sound.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face.
“Cocky bastard.”
He grinned against your lips.
“You love it.”
part 2 of this. (nsfw) clois x roommate!reader. 960 wc.
Lois wasn’t the star reporter of the Daily Planet for nothing. She knew how to build a case, verify a source, and—when the situation called for it—manufacture a story out of thin air.
She left the printout right on the kitchen island where Clark couldn't miss it: a neatly formatted "police blotter tip" detailing an alleged midnight arms drop down at the South Harbor docks. Clark, ever the dutiful hero, took the bait without a second thought. He gave Lois a quick peck on the cheek, shot you a warm, innocent smile over his shoulder, and vanished into the night air.
The second the balcony door clicked shut, Lois turned around, a wicked, triumphant smirk playing on her lips. “He’s gonna be searching empty shipping containers for at least two hours,” she purred, walking straight into your room and locking the door behind her.
She didn't waste a second. She pushed you back onto the mattress, straddling your lap. Her fingers made short work of your clothes, her mouth hot and greedy against your neck as she worked two fingers slick and deep inside you, driving a broken, breathless moan straight from your chest.
“Look at you,” Lois teased, her voice a low, raspy hum against your collarbone as her thumb found your clit, working a fast, unforgiving rhythm that had your hips bucking off the sheets. “So easy to undo. Clark has no idea how much better I take care of you, does he?” She rode you out until your legs were shaking and your mind was complete mush, smugly savoring every single high-pitched whimper she dragged out of your throat.
When Clark finally flew back through the living room window a little after two in the morning—windblown, frustrated, and entirely empty-handed—Lois was already fast asleep beside him, looking like a total angel. But Clark Kent wasn't stupid.
The next afternoon, revenge was served cold. Knowing Lois had been desperately trying to pin down an exclusive interview with a notoriously reclusive senator for three weeks, Clark casually mentioned over his morning coffee that the senator’s press secretary had just leaked a surprise pop-up briefing across town.
Lois practically choked on her bagel. She snatched her tape recorder, knocked over her chair in her rush to get out the door, and yelled a quick goodbye as the front door slammed shut behind her. The apartment went completely still.
You were standing by the kitchen counter, holding a mug of tea, when Clark turned around. The shy posture instantly melted away, replaced by the heavy, towering presence of a man who knew exactly what game was being played. His blue eyes locked onto yours, dark and completely unblinking. “A fake tip, huh?” Clark murmured, stepping into the kitchen with grace.
Your heart hammered against your ribs as he closed the distance. “Clark, I—” Before you could finish, his large, warm hands clamped around your waist. He hoisted you straight up, setting you back against the edge of the granite counter. Your tea mug clattered uselessly onto the surface as he stepped directly between your knees, trapping you under his broad frame.
“You thought it was funny?” he rumbled, leaning down until his lips were brushing the shell of your ear. His large hand slid down, unbuttoning your jeans with one smooth flick of his wrist. “Watching me run all over the city while she had you writhing on your bed?”
“Clark—” a soft gasp broke from your lips as his calloused fingers shoved your lace panties aside, finding you already hot and damp.
“She’s clever,” he growled softly, nipping at your jawline just hard enough to leave a faint mark—a subtle mark Lois wouldn't be able to miss later. “But she doesn't own you, sweetheart. And I think you need a reminder of who really knows how to take care of you.”
He didn't ease you into it. Driven by a dark, possessive streak, Clark lined himself up and drove deep inside you in one heavy, relentless stroke, pinning you flat against the cabinet doors behind you. A high, wrecked cry tore from your throat, your fingers instantly knotting into the fabric of his flannel shirt. The sheer size and heat of him stretched you wide, filling you so completely that your eyes rolled back in your head.
“Fuck…” Clark let out a low, rough groan, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as his hips began a steady, punishing roll. He fucked you slow, deep, and utterly mercilessly right there on the kitchen island, every heavy thrust driving the air straight out of your lungs.
His hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb dragging over your bottom lip to catch the needy whimpers spilling out of you. “Tell me,” he rasped, his eyes burning into yours with an intense, dark heat as he buried himself all the way to the hilt, making your thighs tremble uncontrollably. “Who feels better? Hmm? Tell me, baby.”
“You—fuck, Clark, you,” you sobbed out, completely surrendering to the sweet, overwhelming fog of overstimulation as he picked up the pace, his thrusts turning fast and brutal against your core.
He drove you straight over the edge, holding you tightly against his chest as your body clenched violently around him. Clark let out a guttural growl, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he followed you over, his hot weight crushing you pleasantly against the granite.
By the time Lois realized the senator wasn't even in the state and came fuming back into the apartment an hour later, you were sitting on the couch, drinking a glass of water with trembling hands—while Clark stood innocently at the sink, washing the dishes with a small, terribly satisfied smile.
roommate!ghost who's waiting for you when you get home in the middle of the night after going out with your friends. Sitting on the couch in those fucking grey sweatpants when you stumble through the door and drop your keys. Has to stare at the crack on the ceiling when you get down on your hands and knees to find them, pretend for his own sanity that he hasn't seen the tiny excuse for underwear you've got on under that little black dress.
Like clockwork, he's got you sitting on the icy bathroom counter as you giggle, telling him all about your night. He's got cotton pads and makeup remover in one hand and the other holding onto your thigh because you started unconsciously squeezing his broad frame when he stepped in between your open legs. He gently wipes away all the traces of the night, carefully mapping out the contours of your face like you're a masterpiece he's carved from some precious stone. Until he gets to your lips. The shiny, fucking sparkly gloss is all thats left on your skin but his hand freezes as he studies the crease in your bottom lip. You catch up two seconds later in your dreamy, relaxed haze, and without even thinking about it you close the gap, softly pressing your lips to the one's silently hovering over yours.
His breath catches and his grip on your thigh becomes molten hot as you just as quickly pull away. Innocently you smile at him, like you hadn't just killed him, like you hadn't just made him start planning your wedding down to the way your eyes would shine as you walked down the aisle, all for him.
Your laugh is the only thing that can pull him out of his stupor, "you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that."
But he does, he really, really does.
roommate! geto is actually a pretty decent guy. he minds his own business, cleans up after himself and always orders extra take-out for you when he's ordering in. he doesn't have people over often, and when he does the volume is kept to a minimum; he doesn't hog the tv-- heck you don't have any complaints about him.
other than the fact he can't take a hint.
did he think all those low cut tops were an accident? all the times you've "accidentally" run into him in the hallway in nothing but a towel? or even how you compliment him-- his eyes, his hair, his smile, his amazingly god-like physique? was he really that clueless, or was this just some form of silent rejection? could he really not tell how badly you wanted him? did you really have to spell it out for him?
"hey sugu," you call him by a playful nickname, as he exits his room and makes his ways towards the kitchen where you're standing. he replies softy, somewhat monotone. a little hey slipping past his lips.
"i'm thinking of ordering in, do you want anything?" you offer.
his eyes are locked on yours, as if he's trying to not look down at what you're wearing-- a little purple sundress-- his favorite color.
"no thanks, i've got left overs." he slips past you slightly to get to the fridge--you think it's fate that the kitchen is so small because you can feel him brushes against you to get where he needs to go. you eye him as he leans over to look into the fridge.
you join him, ignoring the way he gives you a side eye.
"what leftovers are on the menu tonight?" you ask, but there isn't much there, just a small tupperware of some left over chicken from his meal last night. clearly not enough to sustain a man like him. "i know something you can eat tonight, sugu."
this catches him off guard--his entire face brightening, a heat crawling up to his face. "what?!"
"i mean i was gonna order pizza for us silly!" you perk yourself back up, starting to walk away. you wonder if he's staring at your figure or not--but your question is quickly answered, his mouth slightly gapping, eyes wide. you begin to giggle: "get your head out of the gutter."
little do you know he's been picking up every fucking hint. he's just been too scared to do anything. why ruin a perfect living situation because he can't control his dick? you're just so damn sexy, prancing around in your skimpy outfits--all for him. god, and the way you say his name, how you teasingly use such a cute nickname--it's like you want him to fucking bust in his pants. he doesn't know how much longer he can take it, every fiber in his body wants to take you, to mark you up and fill your cunt.
he thinks he just might. pizza and pussy seems like a good combo.
