Pairing: roommate!Baekhyun x reader 

Summary: When your town is hit with a heatwave, and the air conditioning at your shared place coincidentally malfunctions, you start to go a little crazy at your luck because there’s nothing you hate more than clammy pits, while Baekhyun goes a little crazy thinking you’re trying to seduce him with your tiny shorts and popsicle- skills.

Genre: roommate au, friends to lovers au (f2l), , angst if you squint, attempt at sparse crack

Warnings: language (I have a potty mouth sorry), penetrative , dom!Baekhyun, brat!OC, , rough , oral (f receiving), slight slight degradation if you’re being pedantic, denial, Baekhyun’s scary duality, oc and Baekhyun being thick and dumb af

‘Oh you’ve got to be ing with me, not this one too!’

You aggressively jab at the power button of the air conditioning remote another five times before smacking the controller against the flat of your palm in frustration. When it still refuses to switch on, you let out a bellow of rage and hurl the wretched thing at the sofa.

This can not be happening…

It is currently the middle of May and your town is experiencing a severe heatwave, a record-breaking one for that matter, which is plastered on the headlines of every news outlet. Temperature peaking at a whopping 38˚C, it is the hottest it’s ever been in this 20 mile radius, knocking the astounding 37˚C from 1971 off its podium. Must be doing wonders for ice cream sales and nightmares for electrical bills because there is simply no way anyone can survive this unbearable heat without all the cooling help they can get.

Some people may happily welcome the heat, seeing as your town rarely gets to see even a peak of sun, but those people must also be sick and twisted and the same people who pour in their milk before cereal.

How anyone could possibly tolerate sweat in every single crevice, hair sticking to the back of their necks, stuffy air stinking of B.O. is simply beyond the scopes of your understanding. It would honestly take a masochistic psychopath to enjoy this weather. And that is why, without a single doubt, you prefer the cold. See, with the cold, you can easily warm yourself up by adding more layers; you don’t even necessarily have to turn the radiator on, just grab a cozy blanket and snuggle up in bed with a mug of warm beverage of your choice. But the heat? You can be just sitting there, legs dipped in the pool, not moving a single muscle, even, and you will still be melting down to your bones from the overwhelming warmth.

So the fact that every single air conditioner of your house has precisely chosen this very moment to malfunction is really the cherry on top, isn’t it? Fan-ing-tabulous. Not to mention that it’s exam season, so how on earth are you supposed to revise when all you can focus on is your clammy knee pit?

This is so typical, so on brand for every single inconvenience to magically fall onto your lap. Ever since the ripe age of eleven, you’ve been cursed with bad luck when a pigeon shat on your head the day of your primary school graduation; you still shudder every time your finger brushes the spot on your scalp where that revolting greenish sludge landed, the sickening splat echoing in your ears. Thus marking the beginning of your ill-fortuned fate which only got worse from there.

You quickly pull out your phone, its cool surface providing you with temporary relief, and begin dialling Baekhyun’s number. As usual, he picks up after the fourth ring. ‘You won’t believe it.’

‘What?’ His breath is slightly heavier than usual, which confirms that he’s indeed walking back home from his maths workshop right now just as you guessed.

‘The ing AC decided to stop working.’ You grit out. ‘All of them.’

The line goes silent for a second. ‘Oh .’ He groans. You distinctly hear him running his hand through his hair out of habit, no doubt making it stick out to the side funnily without himself noticing.

‘I feel like I’m burning in seven hells. I’ve opened all the windows but it’s blowing hot air inside, hot air, Baekhyun, like air that is hot to the touch. What the ? Please tell me you’ve got the number of the electrician.’ A bead of sweat begins to trickle down your forehead and you violently wipe it away, its wet residue stirring a pit of disgust in your gut, your blood on the brink of boiling.

‘Hmm… Uh, let me think…’

‘Baekhyun. Tell. Me. You’ve. Got. The. Number. Of. The. Electrician.’ At this point, you are even scaring yourself. There are three instances where someone should never mess with you: when you’re hungry, sleep-deprived or sweltering hot. Any moment now, the beast will jump out and devour your sanity, ripping it to shreds along with your will to live.

‘Um.’ Baekhyun gulps. ‘I’m sure I jotted it down on a piece of paper somewhere, I’ll find it when I get back.’

‘If we accidentally threw it out, I swear to-’

‘I promise, it’s at home somewhere.’ He quickly cuts you off, and you can’t tell whether it’s because he’s overly optimistic or just saying that to evade your wrath.

Realising that you’ve been pacing anxiously around the room, which is only making you sweat more, you decide to rest on the couch. However, just as you plonk down, your bum is painfully met with a hard object, causing you to yelp out. This god-damn cursed air con remote! You furiously yank it from under you and almost throw it against the wall before remembering that you probably don’t want to break the stupid thing even more. ‘Fine. I’m sorry, you know how I get with the heat.’

Baekhyun chuckles, the sound easing your animal of a temper slightly. ‘Yes, I know. But hey, don’t worry, I’ll stop by the store and grab some ice lollies, okay, diva?’

At that, you smile knowing you made the right choice of flatmate.

.

It’s a weird kind of funny story how the two of you came to living together actually. 

On a regular night out, one of your many drunken escapades that you’ll be proudly telling your grandchildren about, you had miraculously yet also unsurprisingly lost your group of girlfriends you’d gone out with. Three-drink-Y/N has a bad case of wandering-feet-syndrome, and that night it was at its worse as you later learned that you had wound up in a different club from everyone else.

There you were, slightly tipsy, collecting free drinks by the bar from all-too-eager men who were oblivious to how you were tactfully avoiding their advances and slipping from one to the next, when an argument perked your ears. 

From the corner of your eye, you spotted two guys yelling at each other beside the dance floor, a crowd already starting to huddle around them in anticipation. Just as you managed to writhe your way over to get better a better look of the commotion, ever the nosy you are, the lankier guy of the two swung at the other with surprising force for his diffident stature. Blood splattered across your face as you hear the sickening crunch of a broken nose. Before you could even register the disgust, a full on brawl broke out right in front of you, fists flying in all directions and the crowd chanting them on.

In the thick of the chaos, an overly excited buffoon behind you accidentally shoved you into the midst of the fight, and someone’s fingers wound up caught in your long hair mid-swing, yanking your head in the direction of the punch. Your head collided with another, but you didn’t feel the pain due to your inebriated state, only a loud clang ringing in your ears. Within seconds, a large arm was dragging you away by the waist, and you let them because your head was heavy and vision blurry. When you finally gained some notion of what was going on, you were being tossed out of the club by the bouncer, thudding on the ground. You hadn’t even a chance to explain yourself before the backdoor was slammed in your face.

The pigeon- luck of yours.

‘Are you okay?’ A male voice behind you said, causing you to spin around in alarm to face him. ‘Oh my god, there’s blood all over your face! Did I accidentally hit you? Oh my ing god, I’m so so sorry.’

He was sitting against the wall of the alleyway you were both thrown out into, arms crossed, lip cracked, bruise forming on his cheek in a way that shouldn’t have been attractive. Except it was. Even under the dim light, you couldn’t miss how undeniably good looking he was, the kind that kicked the breath out of you just from first glance. And you almost wanted to go back into the club just to beat up whoever that punk was that dared to lift a finger on such a gorgeous face.

Why hello. Where had you been all night before you had gotten in a fight?

But then you met his stare. He was a whole walking oxymoron: eyes soft, round and melted milk chocolate, completely juxtaposing the painful brownish-purple blooming across his temple and the angry red leaking from the corner of his mouth. Only then did you notice how soft his tone had been, something you had not expected after seeing him pack such a powerful punch.

‘Oh! Um- No, no, that isn’t my blood. And you didn’t hit me, don’t worry, you just kinda… uhh… accidentally pull my hair and made me hit my head.’ You saw the sheer panic and guilt flare in his eyes. ‘Don’t worry, don’t worry. I didn’t even feel it, it doesn’t hurt I swear.’

But just as those words left your mouth, you felt a throbbing pain emerging at the corner of your forehead as if the thought alone had summoned the hammering pulse. You subtly tried to rub it to see if a lump was forming. Well, that’s definitely going to look great for your job interview in two days…

‘Oh, right. That explains why I’ve got hair all over me.’ He winced as he lifted up his fistful of your hair and scratched the back of his head apologetically. ‘Honestly, I am so ing sorry. I didn’t even realise you were there…’ He started going off on a ramble that you zoned out from until it was a mere buzz.

This guy… was a ing enigma, and it was confusing the out of you.

Despite the fact that you had just witness him break someone’s nose. there was something so puppy-like about the way he was looking at you, something so innocent and likeable. And you truly could not wrap your head around it. He looked like he could ruin your life, with his tousled hair and piercing intimidation, yet as soon as he opened his mouth all that exuded from him was a cute heartwarming type of boyishness. You didn’t have it in you to muster even an ounce of anger towards him, you just possibly couldn’t, even though he technically did drag you into the fight. Literally, by the hair.

‘Here, you can yank out some of mine too if you want.’

At that, you couldn’t help but laugh, but when you found him staring blankly at you with his round eyes and Pingu-pout, you realised that he was being serious. ‘No! It’s fine, please don’t… I’m okay, I’m okay.’ Your stutter must have heard how nervous he was making you because it was making an unwelcomed appearance. ‘I’ve had tier nights, er, don’t worry. What’s your name, by the way?’

‘Baekhyun, you?’

‘Y/N’

Rule number one of your going out handbook had always been to never give a random guy your real name, because as soon as you tell them even only your first name, the next thing you know next morning, they’ve found your Facebook and Instagram and won’t stop messaging you. But with Baekhyun, you just couldn’t help yourself. He radiated a wave of purity and sincerity that you’d never experienced from the male specimen, he had an effortless charm to him that immediately enveloped you into a warm reassuring embrace the moment he spoke.

Plus, you had eyes. Just look at him. Your friends would castigate, no, flay you with a whip, if you didn’t at least try to talk to him, albeit he had almost ripped out half your scalp. ‘So how come you were fighting that guy? He looked like he deserved it.’

As if he had been waiting for you to ask, he sprung into life, launching into a story about how he was in a happy loving three-year relationship with his girlfriend and had been secretly planning a holiday to Mykonos, Greece, her number one travel destination that she’d been pining for since they met. It was only after the flights and hotel had been booked that he discovered that she had been sleeping with his lifelong best friend, Jimin, since New Years Eve. But that wasn’t the worst part according to him. Tonight, his other friends had dragged him out clubbing to try help him move on, but after one to many tequila shots, one of them had let it slip that they’d all known about it all along. Each six of them chose not to tell Baekhyun to avoid getting involved and severing their friendship group, so instead turned a blind eye knowing that he was spending his entire savings on this holiday. Baekhyun wasn’t a violent person by all means, but nothing meant more to him than loyalty and integrity, so he simply couldn’t rein his fist back when they muttered their insincere bull apologies.

They had been inseparable brothers. Grew up and lived together. Seen each other’s highest highs and lowest lows. Baekhyun would’ve taken a knife to the back for them, and from the pained passion in his voice, you didn’t doubt it. Now, he was left with no friends and no house; he sure as hell would never speak to a single one of them again even if they were begging on their knees, much less live under the same roof as them.

So utterly friendless and homeless.

Which, perchance, coincided with the fact that you were looking for a roommate.

To you dismay, your friend Lotta had had to move back home to look after her sick mother, which left a vacant room at your flat. It had been a month of frantic searching for someone to share the rent with because you were a broke college student, having also just lost your part-time job because the restaurant you’d been working at shut down. Again with the luck.

Being the reckless impulsive person you are, and also acting from the blind simplemindedness that alcohol filled one with, not to mention completely enwreathed by pity and attraction towards him… You offered your place to Baekhyun. Just like that.

He truly could have been a serial killer or psychopath, you can see that now. You can also see why you shouldn’t have had that massive argument with your friends about renting out a room in your house to a stranger, who you met ten minutes ago at a club — maybe they did have a point, and you were being stupid. 

But hey, you’re still alive, so it turns out that your luck isn’t completely rotten now is it?

And now, two years later, you’re the closest friend he has. Warming to each other happened almost instantly, catalysed by the fact that you were now living together. You had helped him get over the loss of his lover and brothers by filling that fresh wound with decent home-cooked food, Friday karaoke nights and sporadic late night adventures. In return, all he could give was his share of rent with a generous side of unconditional friendship and lovable quirkiness.

Your initial attraction to him had worn off because you realised how weird it was to lust over your flatmate like that. And to think back to how you drooled half your body fluid content at him the night you met just makes you laugh now. That dork? No way. Not after seeing his skid marks.

Anyway, he quickly became a Casanova. Swearing that he was done with broken trust and fake love, his newly opened door brought a revenue of rightfully eager girls into his bed.

He has his ways with the ladies, and you have yours with men; you wingman each other every prowl out and joke about the victories together the next morning over breakfast. It’s almost like a game to see who can sleep with the most people, who manages to bring someone home first. Although he is more attractive than you, by a mile you’ll even admit, and his charm is an inescapable pit one falls into, you have a way of knowing what strings to tug on to get men wrapped around your finger. Men are such easy pliant creatures after all.

But with each other, it’s never like that. There is a firm platonic line drawn very early on that neither of you dreams of crossing, and that’s that.

.

By the time he gets back, Baekhyun finds you lying on the cool wooden floor of the living room, flat on your front, arms and legs spread out like a dehydrated starfish. He can’t help but laugh at the state you’re in. In the years that you’ve lived together, he’s only ever seen you this exasperated once, which was when there was construction next door which woke you up at 8 every morning for 3 months straight. On the other hand, he of course slept away like a baby.

You whip your head up at the sound of his approach. ‘Thank god you’re back, my lord, my saviour.’ Squealing, you spring up and launch yourself at the grocery bag clutched in his hand.

‘Wow, and I thought you were that excited to see me. Of course you only care about the lollies, hmph.’ He tosses the bag at you to cross his arms.

Oops..? You look at him to find him pouting, brows furrowed and bottom lip jutted out exaggeratedly in feign annoyance, a signature Byun Baekhyun expression. That puppy face is your kyrptonite and he knows it. 

‘Sorry.’ Letting the bag droop onto the ground, you scratch the back of your head bashfully. ‘I mean, I would hug you but I’m all sweaty and gross, I doubt you want that.’

‘Well, you’re wrong, I’d still very much like a warm greeting to show how much you missed me and that I’m not just a delivery boy.’ He opens his arms and turns his chin up expectantly.

Typical of him to be so needy; he was only gone for two hours, how much could you have missed him! Baby behaviour, in his case, is a personality trait. 

You roll your eyes but can’t help the reluctant grin tugging at your lips as you wrap your arms around his waist. He lets out a noise of content before returning your embrace, arms rested on your shoulders and and cheek against your forehead. And of course you can feel him smiling stupidly.

‘And you call me the diva.’ You look up at him to show how pretend-unimpressed you are, and he lets out a loud sudden laugh.

‘Idiot, your whole face is red and imprinted from the floor.’

Embarrassed, you quickly wipe at your cheeks to iron out the marks, but he refuses to let go of you. You’re body is starting to warm from his heat so you try to squirm out from his hold, while much to your annoyance he tightens his grip even more. What is wrong with him? How does he not feel hot?

Helplessly flailing about in his arms like a dead fish, you resort to smacking at his chest, the unwilling smile on your lips coaxing a deep giggle from him that reverberates into your ear from his proximity. ‘Let. Go! Your sweat is gonna drip on me!’

That just eggs him on further. ‘Then you better open wide and drink up.’ He smears his damp face all over yours like a dog’s wet slobber.

It was five agonising minutes of wrestling until only threatening him with no dinner for the rest of the week got him to release you. 

You are no stranger to Baekhyun’s love for skinship and his affinity to you in general. Of course he had emotionally latched on to you after you basically took him in like a lost puppy, you had offered him a sanctuary and given him someone to trust after his heartbreak, and he doesn’t let you forget how grateful he is. Affectionate by nature, he just couldn’t stop himself from sending you texts asking when you’ll get back from class or snuggling up to you ever movie night. You often wonder how his ex-girlfriend could possibly have wanted another man when hers was perfect. 

If it were anyone else, you’d find it clingy and annoying, but because it’s him, the angelic Baekhyun who can do no wrong, this behaviour has grown to be endearing to you.

Lotta considers it an oddity, the physical and emotional proximity of you two, but you reassure her each time that you are just friends.

Him and you, dating? It’s a laughable image even in your head. And please, you’ve seen all his suave moves and even came up his pick-up lines for him, and though the loud female moans from his room are an indication of how good he is in bed, you just wouldn’t go there.

For the following hour, the two of you are on a quest to find that god-damn piece of paper with the air con maintenance number on it. Which proves to be quite an impossible feat seeing as neither of you are particularly neat or organised individuals. Complete messes, on your bad days, if you will. Not to mention you are both students, so the stacks of notes each of you own surmounts to the whole floor from living room to kitchen carpeted with loose sheets of paper.

It is a minefield.

Baekhyun is about to lose his ing mind. He lets out a defeated cry, allowing the pamphlets to crease in his semi-clenched fists. The heat is starting to get to him too, and he gradually sees your point that this is perhaps much more torturous than the cold. He wants to peel his own sweaty skin off. Maybe you aren’t being a drama queen after all.

He looks up to see you glaring at him with a deadly expression. ‘You better not be giving up, Byun Baekhyun. You promised you’d find it.’

If this were an anime, you would have tendrils of smoke steaming from your nostrils, eyes shaded all black and a red cross popping vein blaring on your head. You are a force to be reckoned with when you’re angry, though he is rarely directly on the receiving end of your fire, and would like to keep it that way. This, however, could really tip the scale. Even his own benignant calm-tempered self is struggling to keep his cool, mentally kicking himself for so carelessly misplacing that number.

‘Don’t worry, it has to be here somewhere.’ Was it on the back of the Surf Society flyer? Or the ASOS voucher?

‘ARGHHH!’ You yell into the sofa cushion and stomp your feet as the tantrum starts bubbling to the surface, loose sheets around you flying everywhere. ‘How could I forget the company’s name?’

Baekhyun has to hold in his laughter. There is just something that tickles his humour about the way you get when you’re mad, how you scrunch your nose like a bunny and start whining like a spoilt brat. Abruptly, you stand up and start Godzilla-stumping to your room. Knowing you, he guesses it’s probably to fling yourself lifelessly onto the bed and scream into your pillow.

Only a fool who wants their head bitten off would try to calm you down right now, in the past you have always been the one to talk sense into your stubborn hot-headed self, so he lets you trample away. He focuses back on looking for the number.

January electrical bills — nope.

College fee invoice — nope.

Flyer for a new Indian restaurant down the road — nope. God, why did you keep that? Neither of you even like Indian food.

Fashion leaflet, fashion leaflet, another fashion leaflet.

He makes sure to check both sides of each piece before chucking them to the “bin” pile. The poor trees, he sighs, they were probably living a lovely peaceful life with their bird friends before suddenly one day being chopped down by a scary yellow forest harvester. Do different tree types produce different paper types? Hmm, maybe this envelop was birch. He gives it a little sniff, but realises that he can’t differentiate wood scents anyway.

The unmistakable sound of your footsteps, softer this time so he hopes your mood has lifted at least a bit, startles Baekhyun from his thoughts. You emerge from your room in a new outfit from before, now changed into a flimsy baby blue tank top and those teeny-tiny -hugging shorts he rarely sees you wear.

Baekhyun gulps. And he tries to convince himself that it’s due to dehydration.

If he remembers correctly, the last time you’d worn these shorts had been— He stops his train of thought right there. There’s no way he’ll let his mind wander to that time again… Not right now…

You’ve wrapped your ponytail into a loose bun, bouncing at the crown of your head every step you take towards him. The sheen collected atop your collarbones catches his eye, and he’s immediately transfixed. He notices that you’re devoid of any jewellery, which he knows is out of fear that your sweat will oxidise the metal into a dull bronze. It is taking everything in him to try not to notice the curve of your shoulders which one spaghetti strap is a centimetre from sliding down. Or dip of the low-hanging collar that leads to a place he should never be looking at.

It’s out of respect, god-dammit. He hates being a guy sometimes.

‘What?’ You ask when you notice his stare. ‘I couldn’t take wearing those jeans anymore, the were melting onto my skin.’

‘Nothing. You just haven’t worn these shorts in a while.’ Baekhyun immediately regrets saying that. Because if you remember the last time you wore them like he does, things would get a little awkward.

But thankfully, you just shrug. ‘Yeah, randomly dug them out again. Do you think they still fit me?’

It was a genuine harmless question, but Baekhyun’s mind was going haywire. Yes, they fit you… A little too perfectly if you asked him.

He keeps his head down and fixates his gaze on the heap of leaflets in front of him. You carefully manoeuvre around the stacks of paper and plop back down in your spot in front of him with a soft sigh. Baekhyun doesn’t dare look away from the Starbucks coupon that expired a year ago, focusing on the swirl of cream that twists into a fat heart on the surface of the latte to distract himself.

The long blocks of your peachy flesh is stentorian and blatantly glaring at him in his peripheral vision.

Don’t look at her, stupid.

Just as his eyes are on the brink of caving in to his inhibitions, you stands again, giving him an excuse to glance up. ‘Yo, you want some water?’

‘Uh, sure. Thanks.’

He watches the length of your legs extend, smooth and sun-kissed. As you carefully tread towards the kitchen, he can’t help but marvel at the way the dark material of your shorts clasp around your rear. He almost chokes when he notices the slightly infolding of the thin fabric down the crack in the middle where your cheeks part, accentuating the plump of your .

Damn…

In the two whole years you’ve lived together, the boundaries between you have dwindled into a fading chalk line. Under the same roof, you’ve naturally grown very comfortable with each other, so comfortable in fact that sometimes either of you forget that he’s a guy and you’re a girl above all else. He is guilty of mindlessly leaving his tissues here and there, while you make him do your laundry forgetting that you own the sByunpiest lingerie.

He thinks you do it on purpose sometimes, just to , because that was the nature of your dynamic. It was always playful banter, joking about his big or your high drive. Most of the time, it’s purely innocuous.

But Baekhyun is still, very much, male.

At the ually ripe age of 21, testosterone coursing through his blood like it’s the Grand Prix, no one could really blame him. It’s not his fault that his mind wanders off sometimes, you are an attractive girl in the utmost objective way, and no matter how strong your friendship is, he sometimes just can’t deny it.

In any boy-girl friendship, it usually gets to a point where the two people become blind to one another’s physical attractiveness, and can no longer see each other in any ual way anymore without being repulsed. 

But every now and then, little blips are inevitable. There will be a random moment where she is looking at him, or vice versa, and think: wait a second, he’s actually pretty hot. Queue the inner monologue, contemplating whether you could develop feelings for him or this is just you being and crazy. But the next day, after a good night’s sleep, everything will be back to the normal level of platonism again.

You and Baekhyun’s friendship holds no exception to this.

He’ll admit, he’s unconsciously checked you out countless times before, and it was all very harmless because he’d turn around and forget about it. Without a doubt, he’s sure you’ve done the same, all those times you’ve barged into his room to wake him up, only to find him stark in his bed with only Byunchi the teddy bear covering his manhood.

‘Where have you astral projected to this time?’ Your voice makes him jump. He finds you leaning over him, glass of iced water in an outstretched hand.

The neckline of your top is falling dangerously low. Beads of perspiration dotted on your s in a way that has his hand itching to wipe it off. It is the doe-eyed expression you are wearing, mouth quirked up in mirth. So sweet, so innocent. When you are anything but those things; you’re a devil by night, the walls are thin enough for him to know that. But right now, you just look so cute, it makes him want to—

Baekhyun quickly takes the glass and gulps down the drink.

But it seems like God is showing him no mercy today.

Because, as you chug down the water like your life depends on it, of course rash and careless as usual, you accidentally tip the glass too far and its contents spill down your front. Drenching your little vest which is now glued to your skin from the wetness. Trickles running down your neck, across your chest and slipping into your cleavage.

.

‘Oh .’ Baekhyun is glad that those words came out of your mouth and not his. ‘Oops.’ Are you doing this on purpose?

When you just sit back down as if nothing happened, he asks, ‘Are you not gonna dry that?’

‘Nah, it feels so nice, it’s cooling me off. Like a cold shower.’ You brush down your front, hand curving at your chest. Oh, Baekhyun definitely needs a cold shower.

‘Oh… Great…’

No, not great. Because what does cold mean? Perked s.

He’s pretty used to you not wearing a bra. are just after all, and he’s seen so many that it doesn’t normally doesn’t faze him anymore. So what the is up with him today?

Thankfully, he is sitting cross-legged on the floor in a pair of sports shorts because he can feel blood and part of his rationality rushing to his right now. 

God, that’s ing embarrassing. 

He tries not to notice how your hard buds are poking out at the soaked fabric of your tank top thats hugging the roundness of your s. The light blue of the cloth waning into a see through second skin, painting the dark tint of your s clearer than he should be seeing. His shaft twitches.

He glances up to see if you’ve caught him staring, but you’re preoccupied with sifting through sheets of your quantum mechanics notes.

Hoping you don’t notice, he adjusts his boxers that are growing increasingly tight.

.

Baekhyun is being weirdly quiet, you note. You’d expected him to be chattering away, spewing out anecdotes like a volcano about all the memories you’re digging up right now by going through these old letters and notes. 

But no. He even tossed away the Indian food flyer that you were so sure would trigger him to go off about that one time when he had Indian takeout years ago which gave him a butthole-burning , except he realised too late that they’d run out of toilet paper so he had to wipe using Yoongi’s favourite shirt he left lying around by the sink.

Hmm… Interesting.

The only explanation you can muster is that the heat is also finally getting to him. As a summer person, he has always denied that the discomfort and anguish that comes with the heat. But looks like he’s eating his words this time. You smirk.

It was a good call to change out of that outfit that was clinging onto your damp back and inner thighs. That water spillage was a blessing in disguise as you feel a cool breeze alleviating the warmth down your chest. Mood lifted.

When you pick up another stack of paper, something falls loose from it. You hold it up curiously. Oh?

‘Look what I found?’

‘Huh?’ Baekhyun slowly looks up at the flight ticket you’re waving in front of him.

Despite hours of him trying to find a loophole in the system to allow him to get his money back, that Mykonos holiday Baekhyun had booked for his ex sadly could not be refunded. He was not happy about it. His parents had refused his offer for them to go in his stead, since he no longer had any friends to replace his girlfriend’s spot, complaining that travelling was too much of a hassle. And so, as the only amicable acquaintance in his life at the time, he had asked you to go with him.

It was a very casual: Hey, um, are you by any chance free in two weeks and want to go to Mykonos with me since I have a spare ticket now? If not, don’t worry about it. Actually it’s probably weird for you, never mind. But of course, how could you pass up on a free holiday to Greece? With your new, still extremely hot to you back then, roommate? Again, now you can see why Lotta yelled at you after you disappeared for a week with Baekhyun and came back with a Mediterranean glow. Oh well, he didn’t turn out to be a trafficker, so you count that as a win.

But what happened in Mykonos… That night. The Night.

, why did you bring up Mykonos? You should have just ing kept quiet.

He mumbles a subdued oh, cool and curbs his focus back to his own pile. You don’t know what to make of it. Does that mean he remembers or forgot?

There is a reason you don’t speak of The Night in Mykonos. You take his lack of response as an indication to elusively pretend you didn’t bring it up. But now a VCR of memories is playing in your head with a hazy blue filter. You shudder.

You’re still staring at him. His sweaty head of hair is sticking out east and west, and the fact that he hasn’t noticed makes you want to giggle. 

Maybe its the dawning sun seeping through the window, or maybe its the reminder of that oneiric night in Mykonos by the sea, but he looks rather handsome today. Tan skin glistening with warm moisture, luscious lashes flickering from page to page with purpose. His bottom lip is pinched between his teeth, and he begins to tenderly chew on it as he always does when he’s focused.

It is… oddly attractive.

You feel flustered, and you’re not sure if it’s entirely due to the hot weather. The heat is making you delirious. It has to be this godforsaken heat, because why else would you be looking at your flatmate, your good friend, like he’s a piece of meat? You shake your head to try to snap out of it.

The ticket feels heavy between your fingers, the recollection of those unspoken events weighing hard in your chest. Even still, you place the ticket in your “keep” pile, if only for sentimental value and a good laugh in a few years time.

Not long after you resume your hunting, ‘ YES!’ You leap up onto your feet. Baekhyun’s shoulders jump up an inch cutely in surprise at your outburst.

In your hand is a church flyer, and scribbled in the corner in his messy scrawl is the AC maintenance number. Oh thank , God has finally shone his light on you.

‘Found it?’ His entire face lights up.

‘FINALLY!’ You squeal and punch the air in triumph. Oh, no more sweaty pits, clammy hands, and finally a ventilated room. That means you can stop being a barbarian and resume as your normal, non-tantrum-throwing self.

Unable to contain your excitement, you spring onto Baekhyun and throw your arms around him disregarding the perspiring shimmer annoyingly coating your skin. He catches you on his lap with am oomph, lips drawn into a tight smile rather than his usual wide boxy one, and you almost ask him what’s wrong because something is definitely up with him. Since when does he not take every chance he gets to bellow out a victory song? But then you feel the familiar attack of tickling fingers striking at your waist, immediately causing an involuntary spasm of your whole body.

Maybe nothing’s wrong, and he’s just tired. He does have his moods after all.

With your nose burrowed in the his neck, you note how despite all his sweat, he still manages to smell faintly of cocoa butter and cream.

.

The disappointment from the electrician informing you that she can only come at the end of the week hits the both of you like a truck, knowing that you still have to suffer several more days without proper ventilation in stifling discomfort dampens your short-lived bliss. But that doesn’t stop you two from having a celebratory pizza and movie night, that Dominos coupon Baekhyun found during your lengthy search coming into use, so the horrific mess that you made doesn’t go in vain. 

The paper hurricane that is your living room, a crime in the eyes of any meticulous Type A perfectionists, only took the duration of the pizza delivery to clean up, much to your credit. Baekhyun has to give it to you, you’ve always been efficient and competent when you want to be, he for the most part just watched you do the tidying while eating his ice lolly.

Bellies filled with Pepperoni Passion and Hawaiian, (Baekhyun always considers disowning you for liking pineapple on your pizza), the two of you lounge like fat cats on the sofa, eyes glued to the big screen showing your third rewatch of La La Land. Night has fallen and graces you with a cooler temperature, but it is still warm enough for you two to sit a foot away from each other, not a patch of skin touching to avoid the body heat.

Baekhyun shifts, perhaps unconsciously an inch towards you. He loves everything about this film: the acting, the plot, the cinematography, choreography, soundtracks… It’s simply a masterpiece. It paints so well the tragic reality which most often fail to see or more so accept, that fate does not necessarily put soulmates in the bubble of forever, but rather sometimes let their paths diverge. The shocking revelation that love can sometimes not be enough is a truth that romantics receive like a dagger to the heart. But alas, there is no happy or sad ending, there’s just — ending.

The crackle of plastic pulls him from his philosophical depths. From the corner of his eye, he sees you tear open the wrapper of the strawberry ice lolly you got up a moment ago to fetch. A bowl of ice sits on the floor beside you, depicting your habit of popping a cube in your mouth as if it were candy, letting it melt slowly into cool relief.

Looming dread gathers at the back of Baekhyun’s throat as you pull out the red popsicle, still crusted with ice, and place your lips on its head.

From where he is sitting, your legs span towards him across the sofa angularly. His eyes follows the strip of skin all the way up to the hem of your damn shorts that is biting into your flesh. The curve of your from this angle… He wants to slide his hand under the fabric and grab.

His eyes flicker back to your lips, circling the ice lollipop like it’s lipstick. Then your tongue slides out and around the circumference with a deftness that sends his soul to Mars. How many times must you have done this, but with a hard in place of the popsicle? Oh god… His own is starting to tingle just imagining your bobbing head in between his thighs. How heavenly the pad of your tongue would feel swirling on his tip.

By the time he drags his eyes away, he’s almost completely stiff. Flustered and slightly frustrated, he yanks a cushion over this lap to conceal his… excitement. He huffs, the breath comes out slightly uneven, and he tries to focus on Ryan Gosling’s captivating smile.

But that image is now playing on his mind. It’s a magnetising pull that draws his gaze back to you.

You take almost the entire length in your mouth, cheeks hollowing like a vacuum as you eagerly out its berry flavour while you drag the stick out at an agonising pace. The slurp is filthy to his ears, ographic even. His rock hard member is aching in the restraints of his pants, and his hand itches to  relieve its mind-twisting hunger threatening to consume him.

What the is up with Baekhyun? He feels like a ing teenager getting his first , it’s actually embarrassing. The memory of you whining just yesterday about not having had a satisfactory in months suddenly flashes in his brain. Truth be told neither has he, and he wonders if this is the reason for his ersion. He also wonders what noises you’d make with him pounding you from behind.

Baekhyun grips the fraying edges of the cushion, distracting himself with the threads he’s rolling between his fingers. 

Deep breaths, deep breaths. Just ing look away.

A bead of pink juice leaks from the corner of your mouth, your finger catches it before it can trickle down your chin and pushes it back in. Your attention fleetingly flutters to him and you both freeze at the eye contact, the tip of popsicle still between your glistening red lips. Room only lit by the television screen, Baekhyun can vaguely see the heat-induced tint in your cheeks. The way your hair is tied up exposes the too-flattering view of your neck, and boy does he want to do things to that neck.

Your eyes widen a fraction at him, pulling the long block of ice out of in a manner that Baekhyun could only describe as seductively.

You ing minx…

There is no ing way you don’t know what you’re doing to him. You have to be doing this on purpose. Baekhyun’s grip on the cushion tightens like a vice as he presses it down at his aching length, balls dying to be emptied.

You have the audacity to shrug at him all cluelessly, playing the innocent sheep now, are you? Baekhyun has lost the ing plot by now. 

Yes, you’re his roommate, best friend even, and the lewd thoughts going through his brain right now should disgust him. But they don’t. They ing arouse him.

He is the dumb fish that took the bait and now is being wound back to you by the hook. This is a test of self restraint, it’s God punishing him for all the he has annihilated, and he is a muscle away from breaking.

.

Something is definitely up with Baekhyun. You clocked that when he didn’t sing along to City of Stars, or start playing his pretend-piano with Ryan Gosling.

Have you said something that offended him? Is it because of the temper you’ve been having this whole day? The attitude you’ve been throwing at him because of your frustration at the heat?

You lose attention of the movie playing in front of you. Baekhyun can be very quiet when he wants to be, flushed away into his own world of idiosyncratic ponders and abstract thoughts. But he usually likes to vocalise them to you because you’re each other’s confidants, you say whatever’s on your mind and neither of you will judge. Everything is always honest, straightforward.

This rests uneasily in your chest. It is so atypical for there to be this odd uncomfortable silence between you two. If you didn’t know better, you would call it tension. But where has it come from? Baekhyun was completely fine with you this morning, and even when he came back home.

The urge to ask him out loud tugs at you like a leash, yet knowing him as well as you do, he would brush it off with a ‘hm? nothing’ and you’d be back to square one. No, you need to be inconspicuous about your prodding.

Staring at the screen with feign focus, you scoot over towards him until your shoulders touch. His whole side tenses.

You look at each other, his eyes scanning your face in attempt to identify your motive before locking your gaze. ‘What?’ His voice is a deep low rumble. It sends a chill down your neck.

‘What?’

‘What.’

‘What what?’ So this is how it’s going to be. ‘I’m not allowed to sit closer to you?’

‘N- You- There’s space over there. You’re taking up the entire couch.’ He turns back at the screen.

‘Wow.’ Your fingers are sticky from the popsicle so you wipe them on your leg, the juicy residue painting a faint watercolour of red on your skin. ‘When did you become the one who hates cuddles?’

‘When did you become the one who likes cuddles?’

Touché.

You huff, crossing your arms underneath your s. He is being ing difficult.

The profile of his face stares back at you: thick dark brow, the arch of his nose, sullenly pursed lips. His dark wavy strands are growing unkempt, long enough to tuck behind his ears. In this heat, he should really have it cut, yet the ruggedness it paints him is growing on you.

Baekhyun resisting a snuggle is like a puppy refusing a treat. You want to shake this imposter of your flatmate and tell him to give you back the annoying needy kid who made you learn the tap dance to Lovely Night with him.

‘Well I like them now.’

‘It’s too hot to cuddle.’

‘What about that time we both had a fever and you insisted we sleep on the same bed incase either one of us died in our sleep? “It’s never too hot to cuddle, Y/N.”’ You mock.

He stays quiet, still refusing to look at you. The light humour in the air begins to seep away, leaving an unfamiliar tautness in its place.

‘Is something wrong?’ You finally ask. subtlety.

No answer. Is he thinking or ignoring you?

‘Hey…’ You hold his face between the cup of your hand and turn it to you. The blinding speed at which his own hand flies to seize your wrist catches you by surprise. You slowly let go, but he doesn’t.

The expression on his face is one you never knew he is capable of, let alone ever imagined would be directed at you. Dark hooded eyes stare into your own with an intensity that prickles fear into your core. His lips are drawn back into a scowl, and although he isn’t frowning, you can see the streaks of irritation. The grip on your wrist tightens, your arm dangling helplessly.

What the …

‘I’ve had enough of you, you brat.’ He hisses and flips the cushion off his lap. Your mind is flooded with confusion, though another sensation begins to tingle within. He looks… really ing hot right now.

‘Wha-’

He silences you with a sharp shp. ‘Don’t.’ Only now do you notice that he is towering over you, and that your faces are close enough for you to see the individual strands of his long lashes. … Why are you kind of by this side of him you’ve never seen before? ‘Don’t you ing dare.’

‘Wh-’

‘I said don’t.’ You go quiet. 

With his other hand, he holds your cheek between his fingers, his roughness both shocking and arousing you. Hardness of his knuckle tilting your chin up, he leans towards you. You think for a split second that he’s going to kiss you, and in the same split second you almost wishes he does, but his lips brush against your cheek instead and lewdly slide to the shell of your ear.

You can’t move. 

A million thoughts are roaring in your head yet your mind is also blank, void of comprehension of the position you two are in. The sensual stir in your core coaxed by his lecherous proximity provides the only clarity you are certain of.

With his teeth sByunming your tender skin, which sends a zoom of tingling all the way down to your , he lets out a feral grumble. No… A growl.

‘Don’t even try to deny it, you and your ing games. You don’t think I’d catch on?’ His warm breath blowing at the sensitive inner ear entices another involuntary gasp from you.

‘What are you talking about, Baekhyun? What are you doing?’

Then he bites you. 

Tender lobe of your ear ensnared between the snip of his teeth, hard enough to induce a painful shock which fizzles into trembling desire. The fire within your skin spreads throughout your entirety, exacerbated by the wet hint of his tongue dragging out a thin strip.

Holy , you’re losing your mind.

‘Still playing coy, are we?’

‘No, I seriously d-’

‘These ing shorts you changed into. This pathetic excuse of a top that does -all to cover your . Then spilling water all over it when you know you’re not wearing a bra. Even bringing up ing Mykonos? And now that ice lollie like you’re thirsty for .’

‘I-’ The surprise of hearing such filth leaving Baekhyun’s mouth impales you before the meaning of his words can sink in. Wait what?

‘Then you have the nerve to act all innocent and dolly?’ He clenches his jaw. Though you can’t see it, the image triggers a lustful pulse in your . ‘You ing tease.’

Those three words finally dawn on the shambled state your mind is in. He thought…

‘You were complaining yesterday about how none of those idiots you’ve slept with could get you off. If you wanted me to you down so badly, you should’ve just asked, you brat.’

Oh.

He pulls back to look you dead in the eyes, and you feel yourself shudder under the dangerous promise he is assuring you. How have you managed to make him think that you were trying to seduce him? More so, how is every inch of your being yearning for him to his into your thrumming right now?

You know what he’s like in bed: animalistic ing, his for dominance but also a desire to satisfy, relentless powerplay, and the pain he likes to lace in with the pleasure. If his style hasn’t changed since…

Excitement is indistinguishable from your nervous anticipation. A gush of your ism pools in your .

This Baekhyun is one you’ve never witnessed before, not even that time. No, this one is deadly, fuelled by the pent-up ual frustration that no doubt you have caused.

Eyes dauntingly unwavering, he slowly guides your hand, wrist still locked in his clutch, down to his groin. Your touch hovers over his prominent bulge for a torturous second before he allows you to feel his arousal. As if instinctively, maybe you’ve just held to many in your lifetime that it’s become second nature, your fingers curl around his .

He lets out a hard exhale.

Of course, you never forgot how ing big he is, not just in length but also girth. Yet it still doesn’t stop you from melting into soft putty with his clothed crotch, firm as a joystick, fitting in your small hand like a baton.

‘Happy? Got what you wanted?’ Thumb tracing the rough of your chin, he pulls your face up to his, stopping a hair’s width away until your breaths are shared. ‘Think you’ll get more than you bargained for, even. You can’t act a spoilt little tease and go unpunished.’

You should really say something. That you never purposely tried to tempt him into this, that you have been in fact completely innocent and the ersion lies in him. But you don’t. Because you realise you’re aching for him

So here’s a big ‘ You’ to the most quintessential rule established between any pair of roommates.

His lips are as soft, as supple as you remember when you press yours onto him with so much yearning and desperation that you should be embarrassed given the hard-to-get reputation you like to uphold. You mould into him like velvet, movements so fluid it could trick anyone into thinking you are longtime lovers. Brazen with the gaping hunger of your core, you move the hand not captured by his to cradle his skull, fingers daring to twirl around his curls and tug. The rumble it coaxes from him resonates down your own throat, gifting you with glowing pride. What sets you off the most, perhaps, is how eager his kiss is, lips on yours so roughly you are sure they will be left red and swollen. It is not the sweet type of kiss you share on a snowy day in the park, no. This is driven by pure fervour and aphrodisia, igniting your mind with thoughts of him, all of him, and only him.

Sandy blue-tinted memories flash scene after scene behind your closed eyelids, and you wonder if he is remembering too. Remember how good, how mind-melting it was. That Night.

Strawberry flavour still on your tongue, you slide in between his teeth, the dull edges of which cordially scrap past you. He relishes in your taste, the lewd motions of his tongue an reminder of his capabilities to draw a from you with nothing but his mouth.

Baekhyun’s hand trails from your chin, featherlike down your neck and into your tank top. Kneading your s gently, he rolls your between his thumb and index finger, occasionally brushing past the indented spot at the tip where all your nerves are concentrated. 

… 

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having such utter control over you, you try but fail to suppress a whimper.

Your grip in his hair slackens in order to explore the rest of him, the sharpness of his jaw, the muscles of his chest, the ridges of his toned abdomen when your hand slips, or more like very intentionally s, under his shirt.

Wandering fingers dare venture beneath the band of his pants, tracing the skin leading to his pubic area but never touching where he is burning in need for you. Baekhyun growls and bites into your lip, tugging it far enough away to stare into your eyes. The greed in his brown orbs must be mirroring your own, evoking another flutter in your .

He’s your saviour gulp of water after having been stranded in the scorching arid desert for so long; you want to keep drinking him in, you don’t think you can stop yourself.

He lets go of your lip and begin violating the shell of your ear, that sweet spot that drives you the craziest, sends your soul straight to hell. The tickling sensation is over-stimulating, too much to handle. You wriggle in pleasure at his generous .

Just as you reach for his throbbing length, he pushes you down onto your back and forcibly pins both your hands above your head in one smooth move that tells you he’s too accustomed to this action.

‘No touching.’ Baekhyun likes control, you do not forget.

‘Why?’ You challenge. You also like control, but just this time you may allow him.

‘Why do you think?’ He scoffs and attacks your earlobe. ‘You dirty girl.’

‘Baekhyun, please…’ You whine, hips rolling up to meet his, to feel his thickness against your dripping slit, separated by fabric you are desperate to shed.

He seems to stop to hesitate, and for a second you think you might have a chance. But then he says, ‘Don’t make me gag you and tie you up.’

, he’s even filthier than you thought. Perfect.

You take a moment to process his face. Baekhyun is looking at you like you’re a five-star Michelin three-course meal, plated in front of him with mint garnish. He wets his lips with a flicker of tongue as he tugs your top off.

His own shirt is tossed onto the ground; you decide to be obedient and leave your hands where he put them and refrain from raking your nails down his deliciously sculpted body. 

Because you really wanna ing come. And he had the power to not let you to.

Eyes still glued to yours, the fiery vehemence in which causes you to squirm and itch to rub yourself, he begins to pull your shorts and down.

The excruciatingly slow speed is deliberate.

Baekhyun is not kidding about punishing you.

Knuckles brushing the smooth of your legs, you almost kick him to hurry him up. And despite the full exposure of your , he is still gazing unfalteringly at you, and you feel a deluge of your desire ooze out of you.

‘Look how wet I am for you, Baekhyun. Feel it’ Your dominant nature that you’re subduing for him threatens to take over, yet you are also immensely enjoying being punished as his spoilt brat.

A sigh leaves the both of you when he scissors your folds apart and drag a slick up your ravenous .

He pries your thighs open with his knees after striping off his own bottoms. You almost choke at the sight of his inflated springing free from the restraints of his clothing, its full glory staring back at you. Fat, bold, glistening with pride and pre-. He gives it a careless like he’s so used to touching himself that it’s as mindless as scratching an itch, and does it turn you on.

Never in your whole existence as a ually active woman have you yearned for a man the way you are for him in this very moment. To feel him plunge into you with his impressive inches.

But to your dismay, he makes no move to fill you with his meat. Instead, Baekhyun reaches over you to the bucket of ice, the presence of which has of course slipped your mind amidst the carnal desire coursing through your blood like wildfire.

Oh god…

Completely out of your prediction, more so than the fact that you’re under him right now, he balances an ice cube between his teeth, half melted into a clear blob, and passes it to your mouth. Tongue lolling out ographically, you receive it with a hum; he watches intently, not missing how your eyes roll back at the cool comfort it provides you.

Before it has the chance to liquify, he leans in to kiss you, lapping up the icy sensation for himself.

‘You like that?’ He whispers.

You nod as you on his bottom lip. ‘Mhmm.’

When the ice has melted into a puddle running down your throat, he takes another one. This time, he trails it down your neck with his mouth, leaving a stream of goosebumped skin in its wake. You know where he is going with this, yet you still gasp aloud when he reaches your s and circles around your . The brutal cold your bud sends a numbing chill down your spine, juxtaposing the warmth of his breath around it. He sticks two fingers into your mouth for you to on.

As the cube turns into icy water that dribbles down his chin and onto your front, he cautiously nips at your erogenous zone, your pulsing in pleasure every time his teeth grazes that sensitive beady tip.

Baekhyun places yet another piece between his teeth and traces it slowly past your navel, then up and down your inner thighs, his hands circling under you to squeeze your . He is purposely teasing you, moving the ice so close to your slit then depriving you of the satisfaction when he slides it away again. The tickling ache is driving you mad.

‘Please, Baekhyun.’ Your hand that has mindlessly found its way entangled in his locks gets pushed back up chastisingly. His love for dominance turns you on even more.

One dangerous glance from in between your thighs is enough to clamp your mouth shut. You remember, you want to .

He unhurriedly guides the ice along your burning lips, then finally to meet your impatiently waiting oris. The raw moan elicited from you echoes through the walls. God, that feels…

Your mind is gone.

Especially when his warm tongue, contrasting with the numbing cool, starts painting figure 8’s at your ultrasensitive bundle of nerves. Uncontrollable shudders overtake your whole being, and he chuckles at your responsiveness. Your hips jerk in synchronisation to his ; your toes curl so tightly they almost cramp; your leg wraps around his back in a desperate attempt to cling onto something secure.

To your delight, he does not try to be gentle with you. Instead of timid kitten , Baekhyun is devouring you right before your eyes, vulgar relentless flickering of his tongue at such a lightning pace you think you’ll faint. When you feel one of his hands remove from gripping your , you sigh in anticipation.

His long slender finger slides in easily, lubricated by your drenching arousal and the dripping ice.

‘Oh fuuuuc-.’

He doesn’t let you finish groaning before inserting a second. The loud wet quelches play a symphony in your ears, his panting adding to the orchestra of whimpers and profanities you chorus.

It’s building up, you feel it, the familiar tickling behind your . You feel your precarious sanity on the brink of tipping over.

‘Don’t stop, , keep going. I’m about to come.’

He’s on it now, head motorboating your to create resonating vibrations against your bud, his fingers diving deeper into you each time.

‘Oh god, yes, just like that!’

You feel it coming, the imminent release of all the pent up pleasure. So ing close.

But then he stops. Pulling up with a gasping breath. Fingers extracted from your depth. Devilish grin on his drenched mouth.

The urge to knee him right in the face is barely suppressed by the only inkling of humanity battling against your bestial consciousness. Sweat is running down both your hairlines. ‘ you, you prick.’

Despite your anger, Baekhyun’s laugh tugs a smile at your lips. Propping his elbows on your either sides, he comes up to kiss you, and you love how filthy it is to taste yourself on him. This time it’s a smooth sequence of gentle pecks, almost a small apology for robbing you of the best, the only, you’ve had in a while.

‘You deserved that, Y/N.’

No, you didn’t. You want to tell him that you hadn’t been deliberately teasing him. But you’ve come, or not come, this far already, what’s the point? So you play along.

‘Baekhyun.’ You whimper. ‘That was mean.’

Testing the water, you reach down to caress his upright phallus poking at your pelvis to see if he pins you down again. He doesn’t. So you continue pumping his in dexterous circles of your wrist.

‘So that should teach you the lesson.’

His breath is shaky. To finally have a glimpse of his vulnerability after handling you so roughly ripples a longing pulse down your throat. Your finger rubs at the pinch of taut skin where his head joins with his shaft, the Achilles’ Heel of every man, and he moans into your hair.

Just as you move to turn him over onto his back so you can get a taste of him as well, he gets up onto his feet. Your whole front feels barren without the press of his skin.

‘.’ Baekhyun says, then waddles with his long bouncing each step into his room. In the heat of things, you have forgotten the need of protection, which you usually are careful about. 

Wow. This is really happening. You’re going to your roommate, your male best friend. 

The twinge of concern at the back of your mind is outnumbered by your overpowering desire for him. Because it’s only just been the and you already know it is the best you’ve had in a while. If not, ever.

It was the unexpectedness of its happening, then the carnal side he’s displaying to you that completely disagrees with his typical puppy-like persona.

Before you can ponder further, he returns with his rubber wrapped and a dashing smirk. You take a moment to appreciate how good he looks with his damp hair partly plastered to his forehead and beige skin gleaming with sweat.

Baekhyun slips his tongue between your lips as he positions himself above you, attentive not to crush you under his weight. Your hand naturally snakes around his biceps on either side of your head, one venturing to his smooth blemishless back.

For a second, he just stares at you, as if taking you in wholy, memorising this pivotal moment that will surely change everything between you. Then you feel his swollen tip gliding sluggishly up and down your slit.

‘Omfph…’

‘You want it?’ He’s so smug.

‘What do you think?’

‘You’re really going to use that tone with me?’ Who does he think he is? If you aren’t trembling for him to fill you up right now, you would be putting him in his rightful place.

‘Sorry.’ You manage to grit out, half from annoyance, half from the boggling feeling of his stiffness prodding at your entrance, so close to being inside you. ‘Just put it in.’

‘You’ve tortured me all day, you need to be punished.’

‘I’ve already been punished!’

‘Was that enough though?’

‘Yes! I’m sorry!’ And what for? You didn’t even do the crime he’s accused you of.

‘I wanna hear you beg. Tell me how much you want my .’ He goads, but you know it’s his way of masking his request of your consent.

‘Please, I want you so badly, Baekhyun. I want you to me out of mind.’ Beg he wants and beg you shall.

‘Do you know what a bad girl you’ve been?’ He continues to rub his turgid tip against you teasingly, each brush against your sensitive sending waves of insanity through your body.

‘Yes, I’m sorry. Please. I need your inside me right now.’

‘You’re forgetting something.’

After all this time, still? This filthy er just doesn’t change.

‘Please. Daddy.’

The groan he releases in your ear vibrates into your core, the sound of his arousal sending you wild with thrumming pleasure. He places a soft kiss on your neck before whispering, ‘Good girl.’

Without another warning, he plunges into your depths in a violent .

Your velvet walls stretch to encompass his size as his plummets deeper and deeper into you until he reaches the cervix. God is he hard. The ache you haven’t been met with since the first few times you had is making an strangely pleasant return; it adds to the intensity of the fire in your core.

‘.’ You both say in tandem.

The slick sound of him pulling his shaft out anticipates you for the next slamming of his hips. It feels euphoric, like you’ve been impaled with a beam of physical ecstacy.

‘, you still feel this good, baby.’ The pet name is a careless slip-up on his end that you almost retort at, but your better judgement tells you to let it slide. No point making it weirder.

‘And you’re still this- Ooff. Big. Daddy.’ Baekhyun starts to pick up his s, hammering into you in a mechanically steady tempo.

Already, you’re feeling the rise of the pressure at your , reawoken from its last encounter with his tongue and fingers. He puts a cushion beneath your head to prevent you from constantly banging on the armrest, then rests his hand on your neck. It’s not quite tight enough to call it choking. Maybe he’s hesitant, afraid to push you too much, or maybe he’s considerate of your rising temperature and need for air. His other hand is massaging your s like dough while he rests his entire weight on his face that’s nuzzled to your neck.

You can’t tell the noises you two make apart from each other, they all just mix into animalistic grunting and growling. It’s savage, feral. 

Sweat, so much sweat. Especially during this heatwave, you feel the subcutaneous flame beneath your cheeks, your chests heaving in unison.

The stretch of your walls feels impossibly sharp, stirring your innards like a cauldron of fervour. His heart-twisting warm pants against your cheek makes you run your nails down his back, firm enough to decorate him with pink ribbons.

‘Babe-’ He catches himself this time before he can drag out the “y”. ‘Y/N. You like that?’

‘Yes, daddy. You me so good.’ Embarrassment flushes you at the name he requires you to dole him, yet you can’t help it as the syllables roll off your tongue.

‘, keep calling me that.’

Baekhyun’s grip around your neck tightens until you have to inflate your lungs to catch enough air. He presses his mouth on yours hastily before sitting up, hips still rhythmically ing into your aching hole. When he spreads your legs out eagle-wide to receive him at a better angle, you scream in pleasure at the new blissful soreness he’s ramming into you.

So he remembers your favourite position, still.

After a several minutes of non-stop pounding, ‘I’m gonna come really ing soon, daddy.’ You choke out, one hand digging into his forearm that’s holding your throat down, another chafing swiftly at your lonely oris.

‘Oh thank god, so am I, I’ve been hard for hours.’ And you don’t know why that sounds so cute to your ears.

‘Yes, come.’

Picking up in speed but also sloppiness, he continues to send you seeing stars every time his rubber-covered member burrows into that sweet pocket within your . His thumb aids you in stimulating your , covering more area than your small finger can. 

It’s coming, it’s coming.

And it hits you like a catapult, firing you into an ocean of physical rapture as you meet your in a violent collision. An invisible force jerks your legs upwards and stomach inwards, you seize the cushion under you for dear life as if it’s the only thing anchoring you from washing away into oblivion.

‘! Baekhyun!’ You shriek. From your blurry vision, you see his eyes widen in lust at the sight of you withering below him.

His comes seconds after yours finish: after a series of hurried s, he retracts almost completely out of you before finally burying his bludgeon into you with such force it almost draws a second from you when he hits your cervix. A drawn-out groan rips through his throat. 

You don’t feel him release into you due to the obstruction of the , but the contortion of his features, brows pinched, jaw and tongue hanging, eyes squeezed shut, as he rides out his high is enough indication of his pleasure.

‘Holy .’ He topples onto you.

‘Holy , Baekhyun.’ Despite the amorous nature of the action, your arms snake around his neck in its own accord, pulling him up so he can sink his face into your neck.

You’re both heaving, skin glued together with mixed sweat, hair wet and sticking out in places. His hands cling onto your waist as he slowly maneuvers out his limping with a roll of his pelvis. Neither of you had lasted very long, perhaps that is more telling of your pent up frustration for each other rather than your ual stamina.

‘Uh, wow.’

‘Yeah… Wow.’ Baekhyun glances up at you. You last a total of 4 seconds under his acute focus before breaking away from his eyes that have resumed its round puppiness. It only begins to terrify you now how he can switch from Big-Dicked Daddy-Kinked Beast to Good Boy in a blink.

Silence plagues the heavy air between you. Neither of you speak, neither of you move.

What the happens after you get ed the living out by your roommate?

You feel him take in a breath to break the tension, and you can take a pretty good stab at what he’s going to say, so you rush ahead to get your word in first.

‘Ugh, I’m so ing sweaty. I need a shower right now.’

He takes that as a polite signal to get off you. But then you pause to look at each other, because that sounded like an invitation. You didn’t intend for it to be, but mayhaps it is.

‘Do you mean… Round two?’

‘You up for it?’

‘Of course. Are you?’

Are you? Can you take another hammering from this filthy freak? Not if you intend on being able to walk tomorrow…

Nevertheless:

‘Fine, but afterwards… This can’t happen again.’