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tteokdoroki · 7 months

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ೀ⋆OCT 1ST PRINCESS DIARIES ━━ satoru gojo + breeding !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. satoru gojo + breeding. thirty days until you become queen, thirty days to get married and thirty days to stop sneaking around with the man trying to steal your crown… (5.2K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, royalty!au, enemies to lovers (?), forbidden romance, infidelity and cheating, spit kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, pregnancy kink, breast play, agoraphilia, baby trapping, oral sex (f!recieving), unprotected sex, princess + fem!reader, lord!satoru gojo.

୨୧ — director’s note. woo happy spooky season my loves. welcome back to another tteokdoroki kinktober! im excited for you to see whats in store this year, hope you enjoy this fic to start off mwah! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

you have thirty days to get married.

being from a small town, somewhere that’s not even on the map — you never expected your family name to carry much meaning aside from the one you carved out for yourself. let alone expect your name to come from royalty.

if you thought discovering how to be a teenager at sixteen was hard, then try discovering how to be a princess at sixteen on for size. everything you’ve ever done since finding out you were royalty has been for your family. you’ve kept your head down, out of the spotlight aside for the occasional appearance and charitable events. you’ve studied hard, double-majoring in international relations alongside political science and diplomacy.

you’ve prepared yourself thoroughly enough to feel ready to take the mantle of queen — especially with your grandmother planning to step down. all of your accomplishments have been leading up to this very moment — it’s so close that you can practically feel the weight of the crown on your head.

except there’s one itty, bitty, little problem.

you still have to get married in thirty days. otherwise, your family title will be poached from right beneath your nose.

satoru gojo (aka public enemy number one) is the nephew of a member of parliament who just so conveniently knows genovian law better than your grandmother does. since satoru came of age before you did, and he’s lived in genovia for longer than you have, and has some random distant relative in connection to the first king — the men of parliament have decided that he too is in line for the throne.

especially if you, the princess, do not marry before your coronation.

how ridiculous is that?

and not only is this satoru gojo an evil, conniving, crown-stealing bastard. but he’s charming, a silver tongue wrapped around each and every one of his words. charming, like a prince (blegh) he’s also stupidly attractive. with deep sapphire blue eyes that are gorgeous enough to make the crown jewellers weak in the knees and a smile so sweet it feels like a sugar rush whenever he looks at you. there’s something so unique about the frostiness to his soft white hair, matching his unfairly long lashes — the ones you know girls back home would kill for.

it angers you to know that you’d been dancing with your rival at your welcome ball, pains you to know that you’ll never forget his slender fingers splayed out against the small of your back to guide your every movement. if you had been back in college (and had a few litres of hard liquor in your system), perhaps gojo would have been the type of guy you’d have snuck into the dorms for a night of fun and an NDA in the morning — your secret signed away from the paparazzi’s keen eyes.

alas, these are very different circumstances and there’s a lot riding on you being sensible about the situation. yet, satoru proves himself to be a problem every chance that he gets — cornering you in closets with his breath hot against your ear, trapping you against the walls while the ghost of his touch feels like heaven against your skin… on the staircase too, insistent on reminding you of the passionate dance you once shared.

all while you’re set to marry the duke of another country so you can keep your fucking crown (pardon the language, your highness).

suguru geto would be the perfect king consort if you managed not to mess this up. he is warm, where satoru is a flip between disastrously hot and frustratingly cold. he balances you out, a mellowness to your clumsiness whilst understanding your need for a rushed proposal and wedding. raised a gentleman, suguru is mindful of you in every action he takes. he doesn’t stare too long but smiles when you think he’s not looking and he’s a wonder with your grandmother — the parents, too. his family gem (a serpentine, making you feel much like a snake) sits heavy on your ring finger, dazzling under camera flashes at your engagement dinner…. and he recognises duty and honour above anything else too.

if satoru is your enemy, then guilt is your friend. no matter what either of the men in your life do, you find yourself comparing their every move. when you’re with suguru your mind is away chasing the fairies, imagining the touch of another man who sets your heart alight in a cool blaze — like gasoline trickling through your veins waiting for its candle match. when you’re with satoru, all you can think about is how wrong this is. how geto doesn’t deserve this. but you’re an addict without a cure, and your drug is satoru gojo and you don’t see yourself ever quitting him.

you're in desperate need of a wake up call and a nicotine patch, the cocky yet lecherous air about him almost acting like a smog in your healthy and capable lungs. sometimes through the fog, you wonder if satoru knows how much he weighs heavy on your mind— though if he did, you’d never hear the end of it.

the current queen tells you not to worry about the white haired man that’s slowly freezing over the four chambers of your heart. you tell yourself that suguru geto is the only man that you need, one that could help you rule and create a beautiful and better kingdom for many years to come. geto tells you that he loves you, that he can’t wait to marry you in two or three weeks time and you respond with equal (yet, faux) excitement.

perhaps that’s why you find yourself sneaking away from this respectful, loving man to be with the one trying to ruin your life?

why are you following satoru gojo deep into the royal gardens, where the rose bushes are the only witness to your sick and twisted sins?

your back hits the jagged pattern of tree bark before your brain can catch up — causing a little wet whimper to bubble up on your pinky-peach tainted lips. the flutter of pain just beneath your skin only lasts for a second before it’s replaced by the sensation of satoru’s fingers traversing up the dips and curves of your body. he soothes you where it hurts the most, rough fingertips leaving bruising marks made with affection along your thighs and small of your back while he swallows your sweet gasps — licking into the wet cavern of your mouth to taste you.

“you’re not even…” his words spill into you, adding fuel to the spark of lust beginning to form a pit in your stomach. “you’re not even attracted to him,” he spews, surging forward like a storm knocking on your door to press his greedy spit slicked lips to yours. his tongue, syrupy and wet, intertwined with your own, filling you up and giving you something to suck on.

before you can even think of kissing your rival back, he retreats and takes his swollen lips with him — latching onto your neck and weaponizing his teeth against it. you gasp, your angel’s song tipping out into the rose garden while your fingers tangle in silver-moon locks and let him work against you, claiming you just below the neckline of your dress where no one will be able to see.

except for maybe your fiancé and only god knows how you’ll be able to explain the marks to him tonight. ‘oh you know me, suguru. i’m way too clumsy for my own good.’ you’ll say, all while thinking about how the man after your crown blew your back out at your engagement party.

you know why satoru’s acting such a fool — taking risks that he wouldn’t normally. the dress you’re wearing, the colour of his eyes, drives him fucking insane. you can’t say that you didn’t ask for this, like it wasn’t on purpose.

“can’t fucking stand you,” gojo groans against your skin, nose pressed to your collarbone as he inhales the candied notes of your perfume. “been giving me those angel eyes all day. knowing that i can’t take my fucking eyes off of you when you wear that colour, princess.”

he’s insufferable, but here you find yourself at the mercy of his touch — offering up your body to satoru gojo like a sacrificial lamb as your back arches away from the tree and presses your chest into his eager strawberry tongue. it leaves a slimy track over your neck and dips between the cleavage of your dress while gojo makes his descent down to hell — tasting the shimmering crystals of salt on your skin.

satoru gojo belongs on his knees.

kneeling before you with the royal blue tule of your dress between his shaking hands. you can tell he’s trying not to rip it off of you. born to worship you. mirth weighs down his lashes and desire dances between the navy blue flecks in his sapphire eyes — he needs you so bad it might kill him. from this position he can practically smell how turned on you are, he’d recognise the mouth-watering aroma of your drooling cunt anywhere, slick gathering in the crotch of your barely there panties.

there’s a depraved, royal treasure hidden between the string of fabric that runs between your juicy pussy lips — swollen and waiting to be devoured by your enemy. not that you’d ever admit that to him. “i think you should be referring to me as your queen.” you manage between ragged breaths, satoru eyeing the way your chest heaves from beneath the bust of your dress.

instead of responding, his head unceremoniously dips beneath your skirts and he drags a thigh over the width of his broad shoulders. “watch your mouth,” the lord purrs salaciously as he licks up your inner thigh, the vibrations shooting straight to your swollen clit. “let’s remind you of who’s really in charge.” the both of you feel it, the aching throb of your pussy against gojo’s lips as he wedges his face right between your thighs. you can’t help but grind against him in wanton, desperate to be filled up with fingers, tongue whatever your sworn enemy has to offer up to the crown.

but your warmth and wetness does nothing to coax satoru into tongue fucking his way past your clenching, creaming entrance. rather, he draws his head back just a touch and rubs at your cunt like he loves you, dips his fingers just into your quivering hole and then — smack !

juices run down satoru’s arms as if he’s taken a bite into the fruit that tempted eve while he laughs in awe of just how fucking sloppy you are between your thighs. the spank to your puffy folds makes you jolt in surprise, causing you to scratch your back against the jagged tree bark.

“gojo!” you squeak in warning as your thighs close around his veiny hand.

he sticks his tongue into his cheek, smirking in amusement before prying your shaky legs apart. “that’s not quite right, try again for me, princess...” gojo repeats the process, running between your slick folds and spanking you against them when you fail to respond. “you know my name, baby. c’mon it’s easy, i’ll even say it with you. d…d…”

you refuse to stoop so low, to let demeaning words escape from underneath your tongue but not having satoru’s mouth on you is like torture — just his breath against your cunt is akin to dangling a carrot in front of a starving horse. you know what that pleasure is like, you crave it and you’re not above begging no matter how royal you may be.

“f-fuck, daddy!” you whinge defiantly, screwing your eyes shut and letting your head fall back against the tree. satoru wastes no more time then, slotting his hot mouth against the entire length of your silken slit. the first thing he does is moan, the vibrations shooting twinges of ecstasy from your clit through the rest of your body and even reaching your head — making the world around you spin.

the tip of his tongue teases its way past your entrance, squirming around to brush up against pleasure spots your little fingers can’t even reach. “that’s right princess, knew you could do it. you’re not just some stuck up little girl.” the white haired lord praises, drawing back from your quivering hole — connected to you by a string of your glistening slick.

“shut up, just… put your mouth to good use.” you grunt, your hips canterint down onto gojo’s face to keep him quiet. your fingers take root in his silvery moon locks, dragging the man and his pink tongue onto your sex once more. gojo takes the hint, making your cute little clit his next victim as he rolls it between perfect rows of pearly whites and sends your eyes into the dark depths of your skull.

the sinful and salacious sensation provides a welcomed distraction from your responsibilities as the crown princess. if your grandmother could see you now, you know that all she’d feel is disappointment— especially if she knew her granddaughter was fucking the biggest threat to the crown. and suguru, your poor fiancé — he was probably stuck mingling with guests he didn’t even know, looking for your eyes in the crowd like he always did.

shame should be burning through your veins, not the white hot trickle of desire that you’re filled with as satoru slurps your juices from between your fat pussy lips. the needy groans he lets out against you inch down your spine, drown you in stormy waves of lust and you find yourself addicted to the bob of gojo’s head from underneath your tule skirts. you’re just so wet, pouring the royal family’s riches, liquid gold straight into the man’s greedy mouth as he drinks you in.

your nectar glazes his cheeks and chin in a devilish shine, brighter than the crown set to sit atop your head — his mouth barely parts from your ravaged and swollen romping as if he’s married to eating you out, tongue licking you up and down before your juices even have a chance to drip to the ground. you can only imagine what would happen if the press found out, your life would be over and so would satoru’s. but you don’t care, because every second that gojo spends between your thighs dragging you to orgasm is worth it. every single time.

he grips at your ass, pulling you back onto his tongue as it flickers in and out of you. the whole ordeal is disgusting and delightful and you never want it to end. pleasure mounts high within you, evident in the shakiness of your gripes and grouses, lust laden in its tune.

“s-satoru…satoru. i’m gonna… g’na fuckin’ cum!” a high pitch squeal tears in your throat like music to gojo’s ears — now working relentlessly to get you off just like you need. he doesn’t care if he’s suffocating, at least he’ll die a happy man between the thighs of a princess.

he chuckles against your sex. “such a dirty mouth for such a proper lady.” the lord says as if he’s a scolding you.

but you can barely hear him, for static rings in your ears as your body loses the war to your orgasm. your release bubbles up on his tongue like the fresh pop of champagne, while your brain fizzles and clears itself of all logical thought. guilt is replaced by bouts of lust, making you realise that this cycle of avoiding and fucking gojo will never end. you’re too addicted to him and he’s too obsessed with you, as long as things remain that way — sex with him will always be on the agenda.

you can’t promise yourself, your grandmother or suguru that this will be the last time.

dopamine dances across gojo’s brain as he drinks in the tangy-honey flavour of your release, letting it splatter against his puffy lips as they encircle your clit to prolong your orgasm. you gush as if you’re a rushing erotic river, spilling into satoru’s earnest mouth while he licks you clean with wanton.

“look at that… oh look at you. cumming for me already.”

“f-fuck you.”

“fuck me?” he smirks, making your gut lurch with wanton. “fuck you. i’m the one that’s working on it, princess.” satoru slowly rises to his feet, licking a nasty spit-slicked trail from your hole to the cleavage peeking out from underneath your dress. he doesn’t even stand to his full height, his large frame towering over you as he yanks down the front of your dress to lick and suck and play with your breasts until you can’t tell what’s up or down anymore.

his perfect teeth graze a pert nipple which makes you gasp and cry, loosely looping your arms around satoru’s neck while his ravaging mouth works your sensitive breasts, even going as far to swipe his tongue over the spot where each one meets your ribcage. he doesn’t leave any marks, you’re not his to keep. large and rough hands replace the warmth of his mouth on you to toy with your mounds of flesh — pinching and pulling as satoru kisses you senseless. you groan at the taste of your slick on his tongue and salt of your skin as well, tugging him closer so that there’s no space between your heated bodies.

“don’t cry,” satoru comments softly against your swollen, cherry-bitten lips — cupping your face between his fingers. blinking slowly, you allow your frenzied brain the chance to catch up to reality and you don’t realise the tears that wet your cheeks until he points them out. why are you even crying? “you’re too pretty for that.” his compliments do nothing to clear the lustful, confused fog settling over your mind like a dark cloud so you follow your body’s instincts and reach for the metal clasp on his belt.

nimble fingers make their way down the front of gojo’s dress pants and he hisses at the quick pumps of his perfectly hard cock before you’re dragging up your skirts and guiding him towards your entrance. “baby, wait—“

you push his pants down enough to let his erection spring free, pulsing with need and standing at full mast against the cotton blouse covering his tummy. “i need you.” you sniff, dropping your panties to your ankles. “please.”

the thing about sex with satoru is that it never feels like just sex. he tenderly hikes the meat of your thigh over his slender hips, lets his dribbly, sticky cockhead twitch forward and ease past the salaciously slick barriers of your empty hole, and presses your bodies so close together that you think you might forget how to breathe. satoru makes love to you each and every time — and it’s terrible.

like eating too much sugar or indulging in a bad smoking habit. you’re not supposed to be in love with him and the way he fucks up into you, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis even with all of the fabric in the way. “don’t cry for him, f-fuck,” the both of you look down, your pupils dilating at the sight of your pussy swallowing his lengthy shaft whole — catching on the ridges of each blue vein spiralling around him. “cry for me, princess. i’m the one that’s ruining you.”

with his forehead pressed to yours, silver hair matted down by the line of perspiration against it — satoru braces a hand against the tree above your head and sets stream to his passionate thrusts, fluid like water under a bridge. it’s not fair, how wrong this is and how good it feels to have gojo lick over the parts of you he would bite down on if you were his. your pulse point, your neck, the spot just under your ear that’s way too sensitive for your own good. it should be suguru fucking you like this, your fiancé.

yet, there’s no room for self-loathing and despair between the rough tree and satoru gojo above you. nothing aside for the thick curtain of lust that protects you from prying eyes in the rose garden, floral scents twisting with the raw, aphrodisiac-like smell of sex and sweat while he pounds away at your swollen pussy, grinding his cock wetly against the sweet spots dotted along your ribbed walls.

“i should put a baby in you,” he says suddenly, just barely audible over the wet pap, pap, pap of your sexes working together. embarrassment burns bright under the surface of your cheeks because you’re that wet and it’s that loud, the remainders of your previous orgasm making it easier for satoru’s cock to glide in and out of you. “leave you with a little gift. a present — reminder of our time together, yeah?” he knows that he’s not making any sense, leaving his confession behind sex and sultry words. he would never admit to how much he loves you, he’s already ruined you enough. he’s already taken more than enough from you too. “i’ll get to the crown either fuckin’ way.”

satoru talks with his dick and you fucking like it, squeezing the damn daylights out of him. he can barely pull back with you locked down on like that, his seedy tip snug between your ruined folds — clinging into him by viscous ropes of your last orgasm and freshly formed globs of his white hot precum. “you like that, don’t you princess?” he coos down to you condescendingly, picking up the pace of his hips as he rams into you mercilessly. the tree shakes from the force, sprinkling pretty and innocent petals over you both. “you wanna make me a daddy? my queen? give me a little prince or princess.”

“fuck yes, satoru!” nodding your head with wanton, you press yourself into his neck and squeeze him close by the ass cheeks so the only place your lover can go is deeper. you want to be able to feel him in your guts, hot in your womb like an iron rod — anything to forget the trickle of betrayal filling you up like a glass of wine. “i want it, i want it…i want—“

you cut yourself of with an abrasive sob, as you moan your agreements. i want you. you feel the words on the tip of your tongue, drowned out by the slippery sounds of sex and creaking tree trunk. you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you’ve wanted satoru gojo.

but he’s the wrong person, in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

“i know you do, i know,” you can feel gojo move to slobber over your chest, pacifying his whistle tone whimpers with your nipples bouncing in his mouth. he looks up at you with vacant cerulean eyes that shimmer like the skies above, the crude mix of your arousals slinging at the point at which your bodies join. “tell me how much you love daddy’s cock, princess.”

he goads because he craves your attention. satoru can feel you slipping from between his fingers, the guilt that rolls off of you in waves as he languidly rams into your cunt. he’s asking a lot of someone who’s too stimulated, too fucked out to speak — your tongue barely staying in your mouth.

“sato—!”

“c’mon… answer me, fuck, there we go.”

that’s when he hikes you up in his arms, lifting you a little to feverishly thrust up into you — dragging you closer to another high. your nails dig deep into his taut ass, nudging his dick against your g-spot. suguru would never be this rough with you, would never want to fuck you so good that the pleasure hurts.

shaking your head, your eyes glisten but the denial doesn’t stop small streams of arousal from squirting out and webbing against gojo’s soft pubes. “i-i can’t! i don’t—“ satoru bites down on your nipple, hard, cutting through your train of blurry thought. “i love…h-him!”

you love your fiancé, but you both know that’s a lie.

“yeah, sure you do. that’s why your pussy’s huggin’ my cock so tight. you don’t wanna let me go, baby.” even while he’s a mess for you, your rival still finds it in him to be such an egotistical prick. you can’t even tell him that he’s wrong, because you never ever want to be without satoru, without this immensely overwhelming feeling of ecstasy fluttering through your entire body. it’s all too much, he’s too much, stretching you wide and filling you with the love (and cum) you should be getting from suguru.

thunder cracks above your head, lightning flashes through the trees as if the higher power up above is bearing witness — growing distraught at your sins. it’s not long before the heavens open up on you both and your sweaty, sex slicked bodies are doused in rain. but it doesn’t stop you, doesn’t stop satoru from dragging down your bottom lip to lovingly spit into your mouth.

he kisses you as if it’s not enough, rocking his hips into you so he can bully your insides and mark them with his pre. “bet he’s lookin’ for you right now, hm? his precious wife to be…drenched in my cum ‘n drenched in the rain.” satoru heaves, letting the patter of the rain drown out the sound of his tightening balls slapping against your ass. “bet he wishes he could fuck you like i do.”

you can’t tell if it’s the tears of guilt and longing or the rain that blurs your vision. “h-he doesn’t get to!” you cry like a dirty porn-star, hardly becoming of a soon to be queen. “o-only you!”

“only me, hm? i’m flattered.” he seems elated, hiding his flushed face and happy smile in the junction between your neck and shoulder. his wet hair tickles your skin. “too bad he doesn’t know his princess comes used and abused between her pretty legs, huh?”

the rain is cold against your skin, seeping through your clothes, ruining your makeup — but the way satoru licks up your hot streaky tears and the droplets of water against your skin as if to sooth you… the way he does it fills you with warmth.

your limbs become heavy from your water-logged clothes and exhaustion, your whole body slumped against satoru’s strength but you still manage to rake your nails down his back as if you can’t be any closer. gojo doesn’t let your hips run from his either. his mind races, stuck on the idea of asking you to run away with him because he can’t just let you go back to geto. not again.

he can’t let you marry someone you’re not in love with.

it would be selfish of him to ask you to stay, even when you wrap your legs around him and have him plug up your tiny little hole with sticky white. he sees it in your eyes how much you care for him, even through the rain. he’s ruining you, from the inside out, knocking the crown from your head and he hates it.

“daddy loves this pussy,” he wishes for the moment to last forever, but you’re already so close — crying from every hole, suffocating his throbbing cock. neither of you can hold back. “he loves you. i love you.”

the confession nearly tears your world in two — but it’s all you need to hear before everything comes crashing down on you. “i-i love you!” you tell him, wailing the words loud and proud as you release on him for a second time, gushing obscene amounts against gojo’s tummy smooshed up on your clit. “sato—! satoru! cum with me, cum inside me!” scratching down his back and screwing your eyes shut, you tilt your head up to capture his lips in a passionate kiss.

the taste of salt on your cupid’s bow throws gojo over the edge too — his cockhead pours viscous white directly into your womb. “fuuuck, you’re so good princess…” and even though you know you should tell him to pull out, you don’t want him too. you want his baby, want his cum, want him always. even if that’s greedy of you.“fuckin’ take it…take all of me. all of that cum’s for you.” he slurs, beyond brainless.

lewd clapping noises echo between your bodies like the thunder up above as satoru fucks you through the rest of your highs, nose nudging your cheeks tenderly to soothe your tears. moaning, and crying against one another’s swollen lip. when his slow grinds come to a stop and your breathing recovers, the white haired lord gently sets you back in the ground — tenderly helping you to fix your drenched clothes back into place.

your thighs are completely bruised and his back is completely torn up. the last marks you’ll ever leave with each other.

“so about—“

“we… we can’t do this anymore, satoru.” you say almost immediately, shaky as if you’re in the verge of panic.

for the first time since you started doing this, sneaking off with one another, gojo notices the glint on your ring finger. and you feel the very same weight of that ring.

he shrugs you off, pulling up his pants and smirking. “that’s what you said last time—

“no satoru, i mean it now. we can’t.” it’s like you’ve come to your senses, realised the gravity of it all and what’s at stake. thirty days to get married, thirty days to become queen. “i’m going to become queen, your queen, in a matter of weeks and to do that i need to be married to him. i can’t mess this up. we have to stop.”

“but you don’t even want him,” he growls like a petulant child, roaring above the rain that cascades down on you both. “you want me. i want you. who gives a fuck about anything else?”

“duty gives a fuck! i have to marry him!”

throwing his hands up in defeat, satoru steps towards you, loud and intimidating, and you step back towards the tree. “you can’t even say his fucking name.”

“his name is suguru geto and i will marry him because you forced me to.” you spit, going toe to toe with him — chest heaving but tight from your heart break. “if you and your stupid higher ups had just stayed out my way. maybe there could have been a chance for us. but they didn’t and here we are and duty freaking calls, gojo.”

you storm off shortly after, be before he can see you cry again (for real this time). from his place hidden in the royal gardens, gojo watches sullenly as you approach your grandmother and fiancé — the elder queen disappointed in your current state and suguru clearly worried that the rain might make you catch a cold.

the perfect alibi to cover up the fact that you’d just fucked satoru gojo.

but the entire time, you never look back.

you don’t even look at gojo — and that’s how he knows you meant it. you always look back, always look for him in the crowd.

the knowledge hits him like a strike of lightning. he’s royally fucked up — you’re marrying for the crown, all because of him. and there’s no room for loving when you’ve got the weight of the nation on your shoulders.

#୨୧ KINKTOBER 23’#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x y/n #gojo thirst #jjk thirsts #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #angelshubnetwork

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moonchild1 · 5 months

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min yoongi fic rec list (Ⅵ)

she's back bet you didn't think i'd post another list this quick but since they've been building so much i figured why not soooo this week is yoongs and next week with be taehyung i've been reading alot lately so i wanted to share them asap so before my week gets hectic again i thought i'd post it, i honestly loved these ones i am exploring a little bit for with certain genres and i must say it like a whole new world i'm enjoying it and i hope you like them too. remember too always show lots of love and support to these amazing writers they dedicated so much time to writing these fics and they are absolute geniuses and deserve the world for sharing them with us so please follow them and take a look at their masterlists cause i will 100% guarantee that you will find your very own favourites there as well, leave the a little comment i know they will appreciate it so much and send them all the love in the world... i will reblog these through out the week and as usual minors do not interact i will block those who do.... happy reading everyone see you next week with taehyung's list and if you have anything you would like to share with me or you just wanna ramble about a fic you loved my asks are always open i love hearing from you🖤✨

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

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↬ starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?

little bit of your heart by @/yoongiofmine f s a ft. jjk

↬You had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with Min Yoongi. You knew you and Yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything Yoongi couldn’t. Will Jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten Yoongi enough to do something about it?

sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a ft. jjk

↬ in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

after hours by @archivedkookie f s a

↬ staying after hours with Yoongi for months proves to be a mistake when your heart falls for him.

Vows by @hamsterclaw f s a

↬ You're five years into your arranged marriage with Min Yoongi, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.

sutures by @farfromsugafanfic f s a

↬ There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

and so it goes by @prodagustd f s a

↬ You and Yoongi have been hooking up, having dates and spending most of the week together for almost seven months. He was comfortable without a title, until the last two weeks, when you couldn't see him because of your busy schedule, Yoongi can't understand why he misses you so bad if your relationship is just sex to him. Or maybe he does, but he's too much of a coward to admit it.

collateral by @theharrowing f s a ft. jjk & knj

↬ Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

till death do us part by @colormepurplex2 s a

↬ Marital bliss isn't always a guarantee, especially when you find yourself marrying into the family responsible for your own family's demise. Sometimes, marriage is just a game of kill or be killed. Even when there is love involved, bullets still hurt.

grey area by @blushoseoks s a ft. jhs

↬ you spent the days staring at your wrist and tracing the skin where your soulmate’s name would one day appear. the nights were for telling your wrist about your day, as if the person whose name would one day stain itself there, like red wine to a dress, could possibly hear you. for years you thought up countless scenarios, imagined numerous possibilities, formulated conversations and rehearsed them over and over, until your mouth ran dry. outcomes and conclusions performed in your head on a repetitive loop. but out of everything you thought up, out of all of the time spent towards thinking about your soulmate, about what could possibly occur, none of it could ever prepare you for what would actually end up being. none of it ever came close to the way it happened when you finally met him. and now, after it’s all been said and done, you were left asking yourself one thing, and one thing only: “was it really worth all of this in the end?”

isn't it romantic by @jeonqkooks f s a

↬ Many things in life have a polar opposite: left and right, night and day, yin and yang, you and Min Yoongi... Hopeless romantic meets gloomy cynic. The only thing you seem to share is a magazine column but even then, you still can’t seem to understand how Yoongi can be called ‘The Love Doctor’ when he is the antithesis of everything love represents.

Flux by @yoonia f s a ft. jjk

↬ One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. (poly au)

mean yoongi by @jjkpls f s

↬ Min Yoongi asks you to take care of his plants when he’s gone. It doesn’t go as planned and well, he has to deal with your misbehaving ass.

pretend by @gimmesumsuga s a

↬ “You know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?” idol au infidelity

naughty little kitten by @jungkooksxo s a ft ksj

↬ Jin figures out that you’re super into the idea of Yoongi listening in on you two having sex. Yoongi is super into listening to you and Jin having sex. Jin invites Yoongi to come play with his naughty little kitten.

babydoll by @jungcock s a

↬ Your childhood crush, now famous and successful, comes to visit you while you’re drunk and have a lot to prove.

eleven months by @bratkook f s a

↬ it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

pause by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a

↬ Life is like a cassette tape. It seems like it’s constantly repeating, flipped from side A to side B, and the songs can’t be skipped. You can only pause, rewind, fast forward, play after you’ve already heard the song. After you’ve already lived it. All Min Yoongi knows is his own tape, until it smashes right at his feet, and then he has to learn to dance to a different beat.

darksided by @eoieopda f s a

↬ It all started with a bad joke and a bottle of Tanqueray.

three squeezes by @nomnomsik s a ft jhs

↬ Yoongi is notorious for his grumpy and emotionless behavior as director of an upcoming company. Yet, it’s a mystery to everyone how manager Hoseok always seems to soften him up. The truth is that the two are actually engaged. Unknown to this fact, you happen to take an interest in Hoseok… and he does too.

one-shot

bad decisions by @jjungkookislife f s

↬ Jimin is desperate to get his apartment back to himself. He’ll move hell and earth, and even drop to his knees to beg you to take his brother, Yoongi, out of his hands. Who are you to say no to that pretty face and sinister grin?

breakfast in bed by @joonbird f s

↬ “Min Yoongi, a grumpy Ikea employee, is wondering who you are and why exactly you’re sleeping in the display bed at his Ikea.”

Tricks of the Trade by @stutterfly f s a

↬ The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.

threads by @yoonia s a ft. knj

↬ Life is full of surprises, just like how people are full of secrets. Just when you had thought you have been lucky enough to have your life figured out, life decides to throw you a curve ball when you least expect it. And there is nothing you could do to avoid it, except to hope that you could hold your secrets as tightly as you possibly could before everything blows up into smithereens.

under the willow tree by @orchidyoonkook f a

↬ The town outcast shows up in the one place you find solace from it’s residents. The people you force yourself to fit in with, even though you never want to be anything like them. Will he ruin your only place of salvation, or become the most unlikely friend?

mami by kithtaehyung s ft. knj

↬ you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date.

the devil wears valentino by @orchidyoonkook f s a

↬ Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

angel by @sailoryooons f s

↬ Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences

a boy like you by @cinnaminsvga f

↬ for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you. {or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}

last nite by @tayegi s a

↬ This is a zombie apocalypse AU based on The Walking Dead, The Stand, World War Z, and elements of Attack of Titan

zombie bites by @luffles424 f s a

↬ Your friends have always been willing to assist you when you need a model to practice makeup on. And with the upcoming zombie film on campus is no difference. But something feels different this time, can a zombie movie be more than just a zombie movie?

heaven's winter by @jksangelic f s a

↬ your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.

heavy sugar by @kinktae s

↬ The Roaring Twenties were a time of great economic wealth and social change. But beneath the jazz music and colorful speakeasies were mafia led organized crimes and bloodstained cash. You knew this well, but try as you might, you just couldn’t ignore the dark and enigmatic gangster whose eyes lingered on you from across the room.

all that holly, jolly shit by @daechwitatamic f s

↬You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

calling the shots by @chans-room f

↬ College basketball captain Yoongi

until death by @kpopfanfictrash s a

↬ Jade has always shaped the island of Kekon. Mined from the mountains, it enhances the abilities of Green Bone warriors who wear it and allows them protection from outside harm. No one understands these threats better than you do, second-in-command of the mighty No Peak clan. When a new danger appears, seeming to come from within, everything you once took for granted is called into question. Including the bonds you’ve made, some more dangerous than the others. None more so than Min Yoongi, head of No Peak and the only one capable of destroying your heart.

whatta catch by @aredheadedmess f a

↬ One, two, three strikes you’re out. When opposing opinions find you roughing it up with the university’s star pitcher, he makes it his mission to show that you’re wrong about college sports—and maybe your feelings about the player himself.

shatter me, embrace me by @95rkives s

↬you longed for him, yearning for love, yet all that awaited you was heartbreak.

you're losing me by @/archivedkookie a

↬ ❝ He’s losing you, and yet, he lets the flower die in front of his eyes instead of doing everything to save it. Alternatively, Yoongi and you are losing your love toward each other. ❞

spotlight by @back2bluesidex f a

↬ No matter how much you run away from Yoongi, Yoongi always comes right back to you.

all the wrong places by @mrworldwideshoulders f a

↬ After getting separated from your friends during a night out, you get stuck with a hefty bill – one that you can’t pay. So when a handsome, emotionless stranger covers your tab in a random act of kindness, you’re determined to track him down and pay him back. inspired by 24K Magic by Bruno Mars.

now we reign by @/oddinary4bts f s a

↬ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

stay by sugarwithtea f s a

↬ what happens when you get stranded in a remote town with no place to live except for a lodge owned by a dangerously handsome but annoying man? yeah, a lot.

when the stars align by @itskimtaehyung f

↬ With cuffing season approaching its end, you thought you had escaped the pressures of finding a boyfriend for the holidays. That is, until your friends set you up on a blind date that goes horribly wrong. This prompts you to enlist the help of your roommate, Yoongi, to fake a relationship so your friends will stop meddling in your love life. And it turns out Yoongi is a lot better at this romance thing than you originally thought...

egotstic by @pasteljeon s a ft. knj

↬ The timing was never right. He loved you when you were kids, knees scraped and cheeks red. You loved him when pimples bloomed across his skin, voice cracking and he found solace in the scribbled lines in his notebook. The stars never seemed to align for the two of you, but perhaps it was because you were meant for someone else.

on the court by @centerhaechan f

↬ As captain of your school's winning women's basketball team, it is only understood that you despise the men's basketball team and their captain. Your main rival, Min Yoongi, enjoys testing your patience while he attempts to lead his own team to a championship victory. Your coaches believe you both have problems with teamwork, and insist that working together will produce a promising solution.

sugar by @zehakoo f s

↬ desperately in need of sugar to make coffee in order to ease down your headache, you find yourself knocking on a strangers door who happens to be your best friend’s friend and the finest man you’ve ever encountered.

from the ashes by @fortunexkookie s a

↬ Someone is sobbing ugly, wrecked sounds that shatter the silence in the room. You need them to stop; it’s distracting and you need to focus. You need to clean the ash from his skin. You need to comb the knots from his hair. You need to dress his beautiful body in something befitting the king you know he is… but the sobbing is too loud, and your vision is blurry. It takes Yoongi wiping your tears away for you to realize that the gasping cries echoing off the stone are coming from you.

the dark by @/bratkook s

↬ your small town thrives on the occult, luring tourists in with endless themed festivities, but the only place you’re determined to see is the mysterious club that comes to life the week before Halloween. what makes The Dark so exclusive, and what secrets are they hiding behind closed doors?

Triplicity by @kainks ft. jhs

↬ Distance is a cruel thing, and when you find yourself going astray, they are there to help remind you of just where exactly you belong.

fermata by @jeongi f s

↬ fer·ma·ta: from fermare, it means to stay or to stop. min yoongi teaches you exactly how to let go.

private lessons by @dntaewithluv f s

↬ Your little sister finds it odd how you’ve been taking private lessons from her piano teacher for over a month now, but she hasn’t heard you actually play even once…

first love by @geniuslab f s a

↬You learn a lot of new things in your first year of university, including what it feels like to fall in love.

↬looking for other myg fics or the other bts members check out my library

3K notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months

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Would you write a dark and toxic romance fic?

For instance, Carlos Sainz has a girlfriend. F1 has an influencer program and invites a lingerie model to a race. Carlos is highly attracted to her, basically on his knees for her. She doesn't want to get involved and pushes him away. Carlos can't stop thinking about her and wants her more every time he sees her. He starts to try and seduce the model. She secretly enjoys his touch and pet names, dirty talks and etc., but stops him every time. Under some circumstance they finally fuck, Carlos is obsessed with making her feel pleasure. After that she's avoiding him but all Carlos wants is more of her. She even prohibits the driver from braking up with his gf. Carlos obey but in exchange wants the model to be his friend with benefits

**Not dark sorry**

Lady in Red (1) || CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, cheating WC: 2.7k

One || Two || Three || Four

You tried to resist him, you really did. You could honestly put a hand on your heart and swear you turned down the advances he made but he was persistent.

“You’re riding with me, hermosa.” You jumped at the Spanish driver's voice in your ear, not realising he had managed to get so close to you without noticing.

“I’m meant to be in Charles' car,” you replied as your heart rate crept up, like his cleverly hidden hand on your ribs.

“Plans changed, now I get you all to myself.”

Each day you found it harder to fight the urge to give into him. The nights left you tossing in an empty bed as you imagined all the filthy things he had whispered in your ear each time he passed. This promotion with F1 and Ferrari in particular needed to end soon or, so help you, the temptation would be too much.

A clap of hands drew your attention away from Carlos and the professional photographer waved you forward to the red sports car waiting for you. You were accustomed to being the envy of the men around you, you were literally paid to lure them in with your body and the lingerie you paraded. This promotion was no different, only it seemed to be working a little too well on one man in particular - a man who was in a very public relationship.

“Gorgeous, honey!” Cristiano blew a kiss as he snapped away on his camera, capturing your poses on the hood of the car effortlessly.

It would have been a lie to say you hadn’t noticed Carlos shuffle his way through the lighting staff and makeup artists to get a better view. You noticed, and you played with fire.

Carlos tugged at the collar of his race suit as his body temperature spiked. He had never been so enthralled by a woman before and he couldn’t let you leave without taking a bite of the forbidden fruit. The way you sat on the hood of his car made his blood race and when you leaned back and spread your legs as you looked to the sky, he swore that he had found the altar to worship on his knees for.

Carlos bit his lip and vowed to take you like that before the campaign was over. He was going to have you, he didn’t care what he had to do to make it happen - there was no price he wouldn’t pay, and everyone had a price.

Cristiano spotted Carlos edging forward, his shadow interfering with the light and snapped his fingers at the man. “You, red man, go to her.”

Carlos didn’t need any encouragement as he strode confidently to his car and looked down at your reclined position with a dark smile. “How do you want me?”

Your lips parted with an answer before you realised he was speaking to Cristiano and snapped your mouth closed but Carlos’ smirk grew. “Do you have something to say, hermosa?”

“I thought this was a lingerie shoot.”

“I can strip down for you, I have no problem with that,” he said as he reached for his collar but you caught his hand to stop him.

“I think your girlfriend would have a problem with that.”

“Then don’t think about my girlfriend.”

“Red man, baby, you’re too stiff. Relax and take a seat,” Cristiano called out, curling a finger for you to stand up. Carlos took your place on the hood and an assistant darted across the track with his helmet. “Okay, honey, turn around and do your thing.”

You inwardly cursed as you faced Carlos and saw your reflection in the tint of his visor, the bright red lace you wore matching his suit perfectly.

“Do your thing, hermosa,” he dared from the helmet as he lifted his feet to the front bumper and spread his knees for you to step between.

You told yourself this was just a job, that the chemistry was purely for camera, as you placed your hands on his knees and arched your back before looking over your shoulder. The sound Cristiano made was pure excitement and he snapped a few shots with encouragement to do more.

“Fuck, you are beautiful,” Carlos groaned as your position thrust your breasts into his line of vision and he all but whimpered when you turned around.

You didn’t have to fake the pleasure on your face when you leaned back against Carlos and tipped your head back onto his shoulder, looking up under your lashes as you bit your lip. Without needing direction, his hands found your hips and pulled you flush against his body and your hand reached up, slipping beneath the back of his helmet to tug the strands of hair you caught.

“How wet are you, hermosa?” he whispered in your ear. “I bet you are absolutely dripping for me.”

You crossed your legs as naturally as you could in the stiletto heels and felt his chest bounce with a laugh. “Don’t be shy now. We are just getting started.”

His hands burned your skin as they slowly rose up your body and you didn’t dare breathe until they reached the cup of your bra and you pushed away from the car. You were at risk of doing something very stupid if you stayed there a moment longer. “What’s next?” you asked the director, silently begging it to be something solo so you could recover from being so close to Carlos.

But your wish was ignored.

“Some hot laps, you’re with Carlos.”

You looked longingly at Stacy who was making her way to Charles’ car but your view was interrupted by Carlos and the arm he threw over your shoulders, turning you to the passenger door. “Ready, cariña?”

“Carlos…” your words died out as he opened the door and gave you a look that dared you to moan his name again so you silently took your seat.

“Open your legs.”

“No!” you gasped before looking at your lap and seeing the seatbelt was nothing like ones you had worn in the past. This one had a buckle between your thighs. “Oh.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t think about it,” he chuckled as he reached for the metal clasp, a hiss of air escaping your clenched teeth when his knuckles brushed over your panties. “It is humid here, isn’t it? Very moist.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned.

“What? I am talking about the weather. Unless you know of something else that is moist?”

“Please stop saying that word.”

“How about wet? Do you like that? You can tell me what you like, I am a very good listener.”

“I would like you to please focus on driving.”

“Relax, I am good at multitasking.”

“Like having a girlfriend and still trying to get my attention?”

Carlos scoffed before closing the door and walking around to his side. “Cariña, I’m not ‘trying’ anything, I had you the moment you walked in my garage.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

The engine started with a purr and your heart skipped a beat as Carlos smirked to himself. “We’ll see about that.”

Your entire body was trembling by the time the car came to a screeching halt at the start of the track. Adrenaline flooded your body and after the thrilling speeds that Carlos had driven at the world seemed to spin too slow. You wanted that heady feeling again, it was addictive.

Carlos had barely paid attention to the track as the sounds that you made drained his brain of his blood and sent it straight to his dick. He took the turns faster so your shoulders brushed with his and he hit the chicanes harder to see your perfect tits bounce in the barely-there bra.

“Dinner, tonight,” Carlos stated as he turned the car off and reached over to the buckle and pushed it in. The plastic pressed to the juncture of your thighs and a moan escaped before you could suppress it and he grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Carlos knocked at your hotel door right on time and you checked yourself over once more before opening it. After seeing how he had reacted to the red Ferrari & I.D Sarrieri lingerie crossover set at the photoshoot, you found an equally racy dress in the same shade of rouge.

“I thought we were going out?” you asked as you saw a tray balanced in his hand.

The look he gave you was truly devilish as he dragged his eyes down your body and back up to your face. “I prefer to eat in.”

He slipped past you and hooked his shoe on the door, kicking it closed. You stared at his back as he walked deeper into your hotel room before he turned and curled a finger, beckoning you to join him in the dining room.

“Shit,” you murmured to yourself as you took a step towards him without meaning to and thought, I’m in trouble.

Carlos placed the covered tray on the table and pulled out a chair before holding his hand out for you. Against your better judgement, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you closer. His arms curled around your back as your hands settled on his shoulders as he smiled triumphantly.

“I finally have you all to myself, hermosa.”

One hand slipped down your back but you couldn’t find the energy to fight his advances as his palm caressed the swell of your ass. You were just trying to figure out how to make your lungs breathe again when his lips stole what little air you had left.

You curled your body against him as his tongue lashed across you lips and they parted on instinct as you wanted more.

“This dress is killing me,” he groaned as his hand travelled further down until he reached the hem and dragged it up over your hips. Cool air kissed your skin that was completely bare beneath the dress. “Looks like you had plans of your own.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips sealed over the racing pulse in your neck. “I didn’t want lines showing on the dress,” you lied, because the fantasy of this moment had crossed your mind. You just hadn’t thought about the possibility of letting it go this far in real life.

You felt his teeth graze your skin as he smiled at the lie and his hands gripped your hips before he lifted you onto the table. “What are you…”

Your words faded out as he dropped into the chair and licked his lips at the sight before him. “Eating in.”

You screwed your eyes shut knowing you were going straight to hell with a Ferrari red A pinned to your dress. You screwed your eyes shut as he kissed your left calf and placed your heel on the arm of his chair before doing the same to the right.

“Cariño,” he murmured between the kisses and bites he trailed up your thighs before he lashed his tongue through your folds. “Hmm, you are so wet for me.”

You reached for his thick, dark hair and combed your fingers through it as you gave into the temptation. You tightened your fingers in the strands and pulled him back to where you needed him most. “Hasn’t anyone told you not to talk with a mouthful?”

“Where are my manners,” he chuckled, his breath scorching on your skin. “Let me make it up to you.”

Your head thumped back on the tabletop as he completely devoured you, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. The chandelier above you was almost as bright as the stars that danced around your vision as the man made a buffet of you. You had never had someone put so much passion into eating your pussy and it showed as your first orgasm quickly built and wracked your body with undulating waves of pleasure that he eagerly lapped at.

“You taste so fucking good, hermosa,” he praised as he lazily traced his fingers along your dripping slit and he rose to his feet. Your mind was in a haze and you smiled dumbly as you looked up at Carlos to see his lips glossy with your come.

“You are a filthy man,” you purred as he swiped his thumb over his bottom lip before licking it clean.

“We’re just getting started,” he teased as he reached over to the tray and lifted the lid. “Strawberry?”

You parted your lips as he dipped the sweet fruit in the tub of chocolate sauce but instead of giving you a taste, he drizzled the chocolate over the swell of your breasts. You didn’t care if it ruined the dress because his lips were on your skin, his fingers pulling the material down to bare your breasts before his tongue swirled around them.

“Fuck, Carlos,” you cried as he sucked your nipple to hard peaks. Your body burned for more, your back arching as your hips rolled in search of friction to ease the ache to be filled. “Fuck me, please.”

He didn’t need to be told twice as he reached into his pocket for a condom before unzipping his trousers. You were impatient, squirming on the table as he tore into the foil and rolled the sheath down his hard length. You sat up at the edge of the table and surprised him as you wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him to your entrance as he watched on hungrily.

“Take it, cariña, take it,” he grunted deeply as he inched himself into your tight cunt until your bodies were pressed to each other. Your legs wrapped around his hips, your nails dug into his back, your teeth buried in his neck and he cried out your name as he snapped his hips forward.

Guilt ate at you as you dressed the next morning. The evidence of what you did was buried under layers of makeup and you swore it couldn’t happen again. Carlos was in a relationship, that should have been enough to stop you.

But he was persistent.

“Stop, someone might see,” you growled as you put your hand on his chest to stop him getting any closer. He had cornered you in a private room of Ferrari’s hospitality while you reapplied concealer to your neck.

“No ones going to come in here,” he chuckled as he easily brushed your hand aside and pulled you against him. “Don’t you want me to make you feel good again?”

“No,” you lied, your body betraying you as your nipples hardened in the thin bralette you had been scheduled to model. “Go.”

“Your lips say one thing but your hips say another,” he teased. “One touch, cariña, one touch and if you’re not wet for me then I’ll go. One. Touch. Deal?”

“No…”

“Why not?” he asked knowingly.

“Because…”

“Yes?”

You looked away from his darkening eyes and clenched your thighs together. “Because I want you to but you have a girlfriend, Carlos. This is wrong.”

“Then I’ll break up with her,” he offered, like it was the most obvious solution in the world, and pulled his phone from his pocket.

“What! No,” you gasped, grabbing the device. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to be the reason, and this was a mistake.”

His hands went back to drawing small circles over your hips and you felt yourself relaxing before you caught yourself and pushed him away. “I’m serious, Carlos, once this promo is finished we aren’t going to see each other again.”

“Then let’s enjoy it while it lasts.” His pout had you sighing in defeat. You had already crossed the line once, did the number of times really matter after that? “I’ll make you another deal, I won’t break up with Rebecca if you have dinner with me again.”

You knew exactly what he meant and exactly what was on the menu but you lied to yourself. “Just dinner,” you clarified as his smirk grew.

“Just dinner.”

Click here for part two.

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one smut #formula one imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut

1K notes · View notes

fleurhcss · 17 days

Note

Channie being a proper dom like really intimidating n stuff- when you first signed a contract w him you kind of just misjudged him as more of a sweet guy

That's sound so interesting so I'm taking this request very happily 🤍🤍 let's make this as a sort of fifty shades 🥰🎀

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐨 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 - Chan x FEM Reader!

cw : something like 50 shades ??, contractual sex, co-workers/boss, possessive hard dom chan, naive reader, you though he was a sweet guy but he's an actual daddy

sw : hair pulling, choke kink, anal, blowjob, scratching, hard dom, little mention of blood, spanking, size kink, thigh humping, breast playng, biting, marks, fingering

wc : 6.6k

synopsis : You always did your work with dedication and diligence, your boss Bang Chan always complimented you for every job you completed on time. He was always very kind to you, always smiling and helpful when you needed help. You never expected that one night, when you were working overtime, he would approach you and ask you to come to his office to sign a new contract that would give you a promotion. Too bad, maybe not too bad, it was a completely different contract. This led to a new kind of passion that you never thought you'd get caught up in. And that Bang Chan was not as sweet as he showed you during the day.

a/n : hii, i'm back with another fic ! This was a request so I hope anon can enjoy this like all of u 🩷 it was so exciting to write and i hope u could like it - im obsessed with dom but apparently sweet Chan 🫣🫣 Enjoy 🫶🏻

[ HARD SMUT ]

It was another typical working day for you, you were sitting comfortably in your chair, going through the last of the papers your colleague had sent you for final checking. You had gotten a little hungry and had started to munch on some carrots, taking them out of your lunch box. You worked as a secretary for a big company, so you had to check all your colleagues' work and correct any mistakes before sending it to your boss: Bang Chan. A lot could be said about him as he was truly a man of gold. He was always kind and helpful to all his subordinates and to you, his secretary, he was no less, always greeting you with a smile and a pat on the back. You couldn't even deny how attractive he was, you were really lucky to have such a boss. Bang Chan was like the forbidden dream of every employee in the company, even the older ladies. He was a not so tall man, well built and very muscular. A distinct sense of style and elegance and a face like few others. Simply gorgeous, you thought.

Nothing had changed that day either, Chan had arrived smiling, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, no tie and his jacket in his hands. He had walked up to you and patted you on the back, smiling as if you were good friends. "Good work, Y/N, I want you in my office tonight to discuss a new contract." He said as he squeezed your shoulders and walked into his office. You were almost out of breath when he touched you. His hands were warm and you felt as if he wanted to hold you. But it was all in your head and he was your boss, certain things were not appropriate. You wondered what kind of contract he was talking about, since you had been promoted just two weeks ago - and with it a pay rise. Now you were very curious. It didn't take you long to ask your colleagues if Chan had been giving out raises lately. The man never ceases to surprise you.

You could see him making himself comfortable at his desk, taking off his jacket to give you a good view of his blue shirt, which clung well and perfectly to every single muscle. The man was truly amazing, a walking constant provocation, and of course you felt a little guilty having certain thoughts about him, which did nothing but show you sweetness and dedication to his work, as well as respect for you. You spent your morning working hours before your lunch break reviewing documents and glancing at your boss as he received corporate clients in his office with a beaming smile. Sometimes you wondered how he could smile so sweetly at everyone....

You could hear your colleague muttering things like "but what's he smiling about" or "why does he always have that happy expression on his face", well bless him? Chan had never shown his employees that he was tired or angry, except once when your company was fined for a cheating customer. You remember Chan's angry expression as he shouted in his office, the vein in his neck throbbing. And it was typical of your colleague to sulk about everything, wondering what he was doing there if he hated the job, when his boyfriend, Chan's childhood friend by the way, had suggested he go to work with him. But that was how Hyunjin was, you remembered when he described the pain in his bottom after sex with his friend Changbin in his dramatic way.

"You know what Chan is like, Hyune, he never gets tired of doing what he likes," you chuckled, catching a small, pouty smile from your friend. "Are you busy tonight?" he asked as he approached you with his chair. "Chan asked me to come to the office to review the contract, I have no idea what it's about," you threw your head back in frustration. "That sucks, I wanted to get something to eat, Changbin is busy with Jisung in a new group they are producing," you smiled at Hyunjin's adorable pout and tussled his hair, causing another pout.

Time seemed to fly from that morning, so much so that you found yourself sitting at the cafeteria table with your best friend Ryujin and Hyunjin, having lunch as usual and gossiping about your colleagues. Unfortunately, you weren't sure where the conversation was going when your best friend opened up about none other than Chan. "In my opinion he fucks hard, I mean look at him," she said, causing you to choke on a vegetable thread. You looked at her in a mixture of shock and bewilderment, then at the man himself, who had rolled up his shirt sleeves to show off his buff arms. "He gives me the impression of a vanilla with all those sweet smiles he gives out, although Bin says one of his exes left him because she couldn't sustain his sex life," at which point you also choked on water. But were these conversations to be sustained over lunch?

"Why exactly are we talking about how Chan fucks, in the cafeteria and with him just a few steps away from us?" you asked, quite confused by the situation. Your friends were out of their minds. "You haven't said a word, what do you think he's like?" Ryujin asked cheekily, leaving you speechless for the umpteenth time, and you let out a long sigh before answering. "In my opinion, he's sweet, I don't see him doing dirty things in bed or in general," Ryujin burst out laughing and you blushed at your own words. "But have you seen him? That minimum will destroy you!" she said, convinced of her words. You swallowed the last bites of your lunch before choking again. Sure, you had some thoughts, but certainly not in a place where the whole company you work for could hear you. You left each other laughing and went back to your desk, where you stayed until closing time, when your friends said goodbye to you.

You were reluctant to knock on your boss's office door, you could see through the glass walls that he was concentrating on printing out various papers and wondered why he had not asked you as his assistant, then he raised his head and smiled at you, signalling for you to enter his office, there anxiety pervaded you. You did as he asked and were greeted with a warm smile and a gallant invitation to sit down in front of his desk, which he leaned on. "So, I've called you in to discuss an exclusive contract as my personal assistant, let's say I've upgraded it a bit: I'd like you to move into my house from Tuesday to Friday and also to accompany me on my business trips, which will become more frequent as I've expanded our partnerships, and I'd like to discuss a much more... delicate side of the contract over dinner, perhaps over a nice glass of wine. I just wanted to let you know today. Come to dinner at my house on Saturday, you will have the correspondence, you can sign the contract extension and know the rest," he smiled.

But your brain had been given too much information to digest and process, you had stopped at the moving out in his house part... You didn't know how to react to the news, it had all been so unexpected that you still had to process it, and he understood that well from your expression, which was a mixture of confusion and disbelief. He laughed - and no, Chan, there was nothing to laugh about - "Well, I understand it's a lot of information, you don't have to answer me right away, we'll talk more about it on Saturday, like I said," he gave you another sweet smile and you nodded, trying to return it and getting up from your chair you saw that he had already started to turn everything off and had followed you to the exit. "Good night, Chan," you whispered with a small bow, which he returned with a smile and a pat on the head that made you blush. "Good night, Y/N."

Ryujin and Hyunjin would have liked that.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

"He proposed to you WHAT?" Hyunjin almost shouted when you told him what Chan had told you in his office that evening. You were still in a state of disbelief; in short, living under the same roof as your boss was not exactly the best ... Especially when you felt guilty about fantasising about him after he had been so nice to you. "Yes, I'm still in shock and I have exactly three days to think about it, because he wants to have dinner with me at his house on Saturday," you whispered as if you were intimidated, and well, you definitely were a bit. So much so that the three days went by quickly and you were still standing in front of your boss's house. Hyunjin had been kind enough to be your stylist and you were sure that he had done his best to make you sexy, had even advised you to throw yourself into the experience, Chan certainly wasn't going to eat you up.

Or so you thought.

But Chan was a man of many surprises, and he was about to prove it. When he opened the door, you saw an Adonis, an ethereal Greek god smiling at you, opening the gates of Olympus. He was magnificent and uniquely beautiful, a man like few others, you thought. The tight white turtleneck accentuated every single muscle in that chest - from the pecs to the belly, you could count them one by one - and the dark denim trousers wrapped well-trained thighs, and you let your mind wander a little too much. You wore jeans that were a little tight from the thighs down to the ankles, a black lace top that allowed a glimpse of your bra - damn you, Hyunjin - and a simple jacket suit of the same colour. Your shoulders were crossed and you watched as Chan invited you in with a beaming smile. "Please, come in and give me your jacket, the dining room is that way, I'll be there in a few minutes."

It was certainly a nice apartment, modern, bright and very spacious for one person, so much so that you wondered if he might sometimes feel lonely in this environment. Then you remembered his suggestion and blushed. You made your way to the well-appointed dining room, where the food was well served and covered with special thermal lids to keep it from getting cold. "Here I am, Y/N, please have a seat, I went to get the paperwork for later. How about we start with a good glass of red wine? This is very good, a friend of mine sent it to me from Italy, imagine that," he chuckled and then moved your chair and made you sit down. He really was such a kind, decent, gentle man. So sweet. It suddenly occurred to you that it might be a good idea to share a roof with him. He sat across from you, sipping some wine and putting a piece of steak in his mouth. What lips, you thought. You looked like a maniac.

"I'm sure everything will be delicious, and besides, I love red wine," you reassured yourself, unaware that he knew the detail because he had asked Changbin to ask Hyunjin, who, being scatterbrained as he was, had not suspected anything. "Oh well, lucky shot. So, have you thought about my proposal these days, sweetheart?" for a moment you forgot how to speak in front of the nickname. "Um, yes, I'm very much inclined to accept your proposal," you told him as you drank some wine, you needed it, and a lot of it, otherwise you wouldn't have survived the evening. His eyes lit up and he smiled at you, he was really handsome, damn. "I'm very happy that you accepted, there's just one more... delicate additional clause that I'd like to talk to you about. You're not obliged to accept it, of course, and it won't affect the contract I mentioned before, it's a separate thing, let's say another contract", you were confused, what else could he want from you? With your glance you encouraged him to go on.

"That's it, I've been alone for a long time without a woman by my side and the physical needs are starting to kick in. My last serious relationship ended because she was, so to speak, unable to support me in bed. So I need a woman who I consider to be strong and stable as well as beautiful like you, and since we will be together most of the time, I thought we could take advantage of that. Of course I have inquired whether you have someone at your side or not, I would never allow myself to ask such things of a taken girl, much less are you obliged to accept. I also want to emphasise that I do not see you as an object to vent my sexual pleasures, I have great respect for you. Having said that, I look forward to hearing what you think."

Your face was indescribable at that moment, your fork hanging in the air, your mind urging you to accept such an absurd proposal. It was amazing, by the way, how he was such a sweet gentleman and so respectful to even ask you such a thing. It almost made you hate him. But the truth was that you were quite tempted, even though you shouldn't be. "Excuse me, I have to go to the toilet," he said, understanding your surprise and not being hurt by it, he took a sip and wiped his lips before showing you where to go. Where, by the way, it didn't take you long to make a group video call and tell your best friends what you had gotten yourself into.

"I'd love to accept, I mean have you seen him? He's definitely going to fuck like hell," said your best friend. "Accept, what have you got to lose? You're sexually frustrated and haven't had sex in ages, not to mention that your taste in men sucks. He's a gift from heaven right now," Hyunjin said, since when was he so wise? And he was right, after all, neither of them had anything to lose.

When you returned to where you were sitting, you drank the Goblet in one go: "I'm in, what do I need to sign?" you said. Chan's eyes lit up, a mixture of disbelief and satisfaction. "I've got all the contracts over there, calling me by my name, and you don't know how happy you've made me. Obviously we're not starting tonight, I'll help you get your things over here, and if either of us feels like it on Monday, maybe we can try something," he smiled broadly at you, and you really couldn't help but smile back.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

When you arrived at work on Monday morning, your best friend gave you a sly look because you had texted him about the rest of the evening with your boss - now boss with benefits? - who, after dinner, had accompanied you to his office to sign the rest of the contract, not forgetting to caress your skin or wrap his arms around your waist. You had noticed that he was a man who sought physical contact and was very affectionate. Ever since he had promoted you to be his personal assistant, he had not missed an opportunity to pat and squeeze your back as a sign of encouragement.

He had offered you more wine and shown you around his apartment, which was very large indeed, he had a sort of library room, you were surprised to see how many books he had, and most of them he had read. He had taken you into his garden where he had a small vegetable garden and small flower beds and finally, after showing you what would be your room, he had taken you into another study where there were musical instruments and other tools whose names you did not know. He had just confessed to you his passion for music, which he practised on his days off, sometimes in the company of Changbin and his friend Jisung.

You were shocked that one man could have so many passions and still find time for everything. He looked like Clark Kent, but without the glasses and the weird superpowers.

By the time you had taken your seat, Hyunjin had given you another look, pointing out a beaming, smiling Chan in his office - which was not much different from the usual one, but he had a different aura than his usual working days. When he saw you, he gave you a smile and a wink that made you blush and even earned you an elbow from your friend to tease you, you had not yet settled into your new job, but already that morning some of Chan's employees had come to pick up your things, you would not be there for a whole week, so you did not have to bring everything exactly, but the essentials you would surely need, after all they had also brought suitcases and bags full of personal belongings, clothes and things like that.

He signalled you to follow him to his study, and as soon as you turned on your computer, you proceeded to him. The question, "Good morning, sweetheart, how are you?" was somewhat unexpected, although not because he could not ask you the question, but because you were expecting a different kind of question. However, we were discussing Chan, and he was still the sweetest guy you knew. This prompted you to consider whether there might be a side of him that he had yet to reveal in private. "Um well, you?" you rocked back on your heels. "I'm fine. So we're going home together tonight, my boys have finished bringing your things, you just need to get them set up in your room. I would like to request your assistance in my home office for a few additional hours. A significant contract must be negotiated with a German company. Additionally, I would like to spend some time with you." He whispered this last sentence, and, besides blushing, you experienced a physical sensation of goose bumps. His gaze was different, more penetrating, with a different light, and his voice had dropped an octave. You observed what you believed to be a change in his eyes, which appeared darker and more intense. This observation was accompanied by a sensation of trembling in your legs.

Your underwear was visibly moist; however, if he had observed your state, it was unclear how he would have react. He dismissed you by returning to your usual work room after you nodded off, and when Hyunjin saw you in such a state, he did nothing but tease you until lunch. That was when Ryujin joined in. Your expression was comically pathetic, and the two of them would not stop teasing you. At this sight, Chan , who was directly involved in the aforementioned incident, joined in. He approached you with a kind smile and patted your shoulder, which caused you to shiver. "Have a good lunch, Y/N, guys..." he said. It was evident that Hyunjin was attempting to restrain himself from laughing in Chan's face.

"Should I inform him that he caused your panties to become wet? It would undoubtedly make the entire situation more epic”, Ryujin jested, causing you to laugh slightly less due to the presence of Chan, who was behind you and had overheard every word. This resulted in Chan giggling. You were in a difficult position, both literally and figuratively. You were forced to thank your best friend... You observed Chan direct a gaze at you that you were unable to identify, yet you were certain that he licked his lips in anticipation of capturing them between his teeth. You were compelled to concede that you were entertaining the notion of engaging in the same act. Hyunjin's interjection served to disrupt your train of thought. You were, in fact, digging your own grave, having already initiated the process by falling into it. You were now merely attempting to cover yourself with dirt.

The day passed more rapidly than you had anticipated, and you found yourself in the evening having to bid farewell to your friends, who were still laughing at you. As you were tidying your belongings, two arms wrapped around your waist, and it was evident who it was. His warm breath brushed against your skin, and you were certain you would not be able to endure much longer. The man was the end of you. He commenced to bestow wet kisses upon your neck, and without intending to and realising it, a small moan escaped you. You were now definitively ruined. He chuckled against your skin and turned you towards him, smiling. It was incredible. "So, my dear, are you prepared to return home?" he whispered. It was as if, when the office emptied, he became another person. He was inches from your lips and they were too inviting and full to remain that way. Consequently, you set aside your shyness and initiated a kiss.

The kiss was markedly different from any previously experienced. It was passionate, as if the man had not kissed a woman in years. Chan was passionate and engaging in his every move, and it was as if melting in his arms was inevitable. He was just as physically attractive as his body suggested, and he was an impressive individual. His hands tightened on your waist, massaging your hips. You could feel his thumbs enter your skin as his full lips pulled yours into a kiss that seemed to last an eternity. In your stomach, you experienced a series of unusual sensations. His tongue penetrated your mouth, and gradually, his lips began to move along your jaw, down your neck, and to your shoulder, where he focused a little more. You were certain that he was going to drive you insane very soon.

He grasped your thighs and positioned you on your desk. The mere possibility that the janitor might have entered the room at any moment and discovered you aroused you considerably. "You have no idea what I would like to do to you right now, sweetheart," he whispered into the crook of your neck as his hands went up your thighs, squeezing them. Your lips emitted a series of gasps as your hands made space for themselves in his now disordered curls. You uttered a curse. This was undoubtedly the end of you. "Why don't you do it then?" you sneered, gaining some confidence. You observed him return that grin as he took tufted hair and tied it in a vice, pulling it backwards to reveal your callus, which was far too clean for his taste. In point of fact, I did not employ the use of molt to inflict marks and bites upon him. "I would suggest that it is time to return home, or do you wish to remain in these wet panties for an extended period? It has been several hours, has it not?" he laughed, recalling your conversation with your closest companions that afternoon at luncheon.

You blushed and placed your hand on his arm, indicating that you wished to compose yourself. He took you in his arms and you observed that he was also experiencing a similar problem, as evidenced by his obvious erection. He smiled at you and, after saying goodbye to the janitor who was about to enter the office, you proceeded together to Chan's house. The car ride was an ordeal, as his hand remained on your naked thigh and squeezed it. You had by now admitted to yourself, while lying down, that the only thing you wanted was for him to insert his fingers into your panties and then into you. What was the man doing to you?

Upon your arrival, he did not allow you the opportunity to remove your jacket; instead, he took care of it himself, with great eagerness. His lips followed yours as he whisked you to the door, taking your legs and tying them around his waist. You felt his erection pushing against your clothed pussy. You longed only for him to undress you. He swiftly removed his shirt, and you were captivated by the beauty and musculature of his physique. You felt as though you were experiencing a hallucination. Was there truly such a flawless man? Not to mention the extensive tattoo that extended down his right arm. You lingered for a considerable period of time, admiring it, before running your hands down his chest and arms, caressing his warm and velvety skin. You could perceive the degree of physical conditioning he had achieved merely through touching his arms. "Do you like it, my dear?" he inquired, his voice a mere whisper in your ear. It was a rhetorical question, of course, but one that could be answered in the affirmative by anyone.

"You have no idea how much," you replied frankly before initiating another kiss. You believed you had merely provided a sort of addiction to the latter. He giggled before leading you down the hallway to the kitchen table and setting you down on it. "Good because I'm really ridiculously hungry so allow me to satiate myself," he said, his tone indicating a change in subject. From that point on, you were no longer in earnest. Passion and lust had evidently overpowered you. You observed him disappear between your thighs, spreading you wide as his nose pressed against your still-clothed but completely soaked centre. He left it a kiss and then pulled the fabric with his teeth. You were convinced that you felt them sink into the flesh of your clitoris as well. By this point, you were no longer holding back, as there was no point in doing so. You were a moaning mess.

"You smell very pleasant; I imagine your taste is similarly agreeable." This was the most dirty image you had ever seen. He removed your underwear and began licking your labia minora, which caused you to close your eyes. Your left hand descended from your hair to your shoulder, where you dug your nails into her skin, certain that you had done so.

He emitted a moan, which surprised you, given that you had always considered him to be a sweet guy. However, given his reaction, you increased your grip and scratched deeper into his now reddened skin. Meanwhile, he was working his way between your walls with his tongue, sucking on portions of your skin before penetrating you with it and fucking you with his tongue himself. This caused you to lose your breath. It was evident that the state of your body would not withstand the prolonged stimulation. Your own sensitivity was already considerable, and the fact that you had not had a relationship for a considerable period of time, coupled with Chan's unexpected skill with every touch he gave you, was driving you to the brink of insanity.

Your prediction was correct as you freed yourself in no time on his skillful tongue, which totally cleaned you up, even licking your lips. The experience was so intense that you were overwhelmed. "It was exquisite, and I may never get enough," he said as he approached you, who were now panting and short of breath. However, you noticed that his problem remained unresolved. "Take off your pants," you intimated, pulling him by the belt. He was perplexed by this turn of events and clenched his fists on your thighs. "Are you attempting to issue commands, princess?" he inquired with a hint of amusement, then proceeded to remove his belt and tie your wrists behind your back. However, he was uncertain as to the purpose of this action.

"You are not able to touch me, as I am in control of the situation. Should you wish to cum again, you will do as I say. However, I will not have sex with you at this time. I wish to cause you suffering first" he sneered. This is contrary to the image of the sweet boy that he presented. He undressed you completely, admiring your body from a distance once you had nothing to cover yourself and then disappeared to get something. He returned with a bottle of wine in his hand and a full goblet from which he was drinking. "You know I love wine. I wonder what it tastes like if I pour it on you. What do you say? Shall we try it?" He bit his lip as he moved closer to you and kissed you with the same frenzy as before. The wine tasted like red wine, the same one he had offered you nights before. What remarkable coincidence was that ever? You felt a liquid, which was not particularly cold, run through your breasts and the rest of your body. The liquid had made its way up your stomach to your thighs, and Chan was gradually descending with his lips, as if he wanted to consume you.

His lips fixed themselves first on your collarbones, which had been previously treated with a little bit of wine. He proceeded to drink the liquid and begin to leave bites and kisses on your breasts. You were certain that he was consuming you and that you would find purple marks all along the way, particularly around your nipples. With one hand, he was holding one of your breasts and massaging it, while playing with the nipple that was stuck between his index and middle fingers. His mouth was on the other breast, licking, biting and sucking the nipple. It was clear that nothing could be more pleasurable than the experience at that moment. The head was thrown back in response to the intense pleasure. "What a delight you are, princess," he said, his remaining hand clutched at her throat. All she could produce were disjointed sounds devoid of meaningful words. He proceeded to descend with his tongue, licking the wine from your stomach to your thighs. He then proceeded to bite and leave hickeys all the way to your groin.

Upon raising his face, one observed a smug expression. Saliva was observed to be dripping from the sides of the lips, and the subject was perceived as a potential meal. In contrast, Chan had never known a woman like you, and your every move drove him crazy. Your scent and beauty had been the first thing he had noticed when he first became interested in you. The sensation of your vaginal walls constricting around his tongue was a profound experience, one that sent him to a state of rapture. He contemplated the sensations he would experience when he penetrated you with his penis. You observed him grin repeatedly, and you gasped when he was completely naked in front of you. Perhaps you understood why his former girlfriend had found sexual intercourse with him to be an unbearable experience. It was a complex array of sensations. He was of considerable girth and possessed a notable degree of vascularity. You observed him for a few moments, during which time he elicited a sarcastic chuckle.

"I can see you quite like what you see, sweetheart," he laughed, only to have you spread your legs and begin rubbing his length over your thigh, grazing your clitoris with the tip. This was a spot to which, by the way, he was the subject of the torture of his thumb moving quickly over it. He was fucking you until you were dumb. And not in the literary sense, unfortunately. "Chan...please..." you implored him, this being perhaps the third or fourth occasion on which you had reached orgasm that evening, with the intervals between the events being relatively brief.

"Be patient, my dear," he whispered in your ear. The speed with which he was rubbing his penis had increased significantly, and seeing him moaning like that, with those expressions contributed greatly to accelerating your orgasm, which occurred a few minutes before the one that Chan released on your thigh. With two fingers, he took some of the semen and brought it to your lips as he squeezed your neck, indicating that you should open your mouth. He engaged in oral stimulation of your tongue until his fingers were clean, then withdrew and proceeded to clean you. He then inquired as to your preferences for dinner. He proceeded to bite his lip and extend an invitation for you to take a bath with him.

The duration of the cohabitation would be long.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

The last thing you ever imagined in your life was living under the same roof as your boss. Yet here you were, in the car with him, driving back to "your" home. It had been two weeks since you had signed that contract, Hyunjin and Ryujin were doing nothing but trying to extrapolate information and gossip to you about how Chan was fucking. But no, you didn't know either - you weren't always doing something, every day, there were days when you were really busy or days when Chan didn't go out except to go to work from his studio. But when he was in the right mood, he didn't hesitate to call you into his studio and drive you crazy with his touch. You experienced things you had never tried before, like wax play, and one night he even tied you up with a rope that was thicker than you thought. Not to mention the first time he had fucked you in the mouth. He had been so rough - not that you had minded - that you had trouble moving your jaw for the next two days. But Chan had been very kind to look after you.

Now he tightened his hand around your thigh, almost as if he were angry, and you wondered what was going on in the boy's head at that moment. When you got home, he gave you a look that you could not decipher and took you in his arms - at which you let out a cry of surprise - and took you to his room, where you had never been before.

"Get ready because you'll be up a lot tonight," he said as he tossed you into bed. From then on you understood that this was the moment after two weeks when he would not feel pity for you, and in the end you were not so sad. He laughed at the sight of your face, which was a little confused and shocked at his sudden disappearance, but you wondered why he looked so angry. "Did something happen?" you innocently asked the boy who was now towering over you. He laughed as if you had just said the funniest thing ever. "It really bothers me that the typist won't stop looking at you, trying miserably to get your attention. I have to do something to let others know you're mine," he whispered in your ear, making you shiver. You had no idea what he was talking about, but you were sure that seeing him so possessive of you had had an unexpected effect on you.

"Do it Chan," you said as you tugged at the collar of his shirt; you were going crazy for this man and seeing him like this only made you more vulnerable to his mercy.

You didn't even notice how he unzipped your clothes, how the room had suddenly become extremely hot, as if someone had lit a fire or a stove. Chan didn't need to move to show you what was hidden under his clothes, what a wonderful god he was under those now useless and discarded robes on the floor. You had seen him walk away and take something from the cupboard and were almost surprised to see handcuffs in his hands. You hated being touched when he was in charge, you had learnt many things about him in those weeks, one of which was that Chan loved to feel in charge, to be in control. And how he loved it. And you didn't mind seeing the smug look on his face when he knew he was having an effect on you. He grabbed your hands and brought them behind your back, stopping them with the metal object, his expression was something indescribable. He was so attractive, you could have come just by looking at him.

He positioned you with your head dangling from the foot of the bed and lowered himself to your level, stroking your red lips with his thumb as you gasped. All this was already having an effect. "Look how beautiful you look," he whispered as he moved his lips closer to yours, "so beneath me, at my will, ready to receive all I have to give you... you are a feast for the eyes. "If you only knew you..." she whispered through his lips, boosting his ego and pushing him even further to initiate a ravenous, almost violent kiss. He pulled his tongue out with his teeth and sucked on it. "Chan... please..." you said almost imperceptibly, which amused him greatly as he loved to see you like that.

He stood in front of you, his figure was imposing, statuesque. You could see his full length. He winked, made you open your lips with his thumb, played with your tongue. If only he had put a finger between your legs, you would have known immediately the effect he was having on you. "Be a good girl and take it all in your mouth, princess," he chuckled as he began to work his length down your entire throat, the fact that you were upside down on the bed making it even more exciting. But it wasn't like Chan to stand still while you gave him pleasure. And while he held your hair in a tight grip, he enjoyed using his other hand to caress your breast and play with your nipple. This drove you crazy as much as it drove him crazy that the moans he was making you make his cock quiver in your throat. This really drove him out of his mind.

His hand went all the way down your chest to your belly as he mercilessly fucked your throat. He squeezed your side and reached down to lick your navel with his tongue. His hand wanders to the naked centre of your intimacy: "Look how sensitive we are today. Two fingers begin to make small circles over your clitoral hood and this immediately makes you moan again along its length. He inserts one finger and then a second, fucking you with them first. You throw back your eyes as he reaches your sensitive spot and begins to curl his fingers. But he doesn't go for it, he doesn't want to come like that, he doesn't want you to come like that. "I'm going to fuck you mercilessly, princess. Don't scream too loudly, you don't want the neighbours to complain," he whispered in your ear after leaving your lips and towering over you.

He brought your knees up to his shoulders and paused to watch your hole shrink around the nothing. "It's going to be really wonderful to fuck you." And he entered you. "Ah!" you moaned, unable to stop yourself. You felt full. Good. Filled. "'Damn darling, you're so tight, even after my fingers... I'm going to start moving now, okay?" he groaned, then pulled out of you and suddenly thrust back in. You moan. "You like it, you want more baby," he chuckled then watched as you begged him pleadingly with gestures and disconnected words. And if he only knows how much you wanted it.

He begins to move without stopping, trapping you between his elbows as if to let you know that you are his alone. At first he pushes himself into you slowly, until you get used to it and start to want more, pushing your hips against his. He speeds up and you almost lose your breath, your moans now a poor diastro. You feel like you could come at any moment and he can tell by the way you tighten around him. "Come for me, Y/N," he says hoarsely into your ear, then takes you in his arms and kisses you roughly until your lips bleed. But he doesn't miss a drop and licks up to the end of your chin when, without warning, you come and he's inside you.

He slowly leans you back into the mattress and gets off on top of you. But you are not tired, you want more. "What is it, Princess?" he says, looking at you. You have noticed his gaze. "I want to do it again," you whisper breathlessly. He looks at you amused and chuckles, towering over you. "You really are insatiable," he says, turning you over and letting you rest on his lap, your hair quickly clenched in his fist and pulled towards him, making you moan immediately. "Now I'm going to fuck you from behind, baby," he whispers in your ear before he enters you. It was slow and almost excruciating but you loved the feeling of him rubbing inside you, maybe you loved the feeling of just having him inside you. "Inside you is like being in heaven," he whispers in a rough voice as he increases his thrusts, making them almost animalistic, everything moving with you, even the bed. You moan, loudly, and once again you clench around him. "Come for me, baby," and with just one word you scream his name and come on his hand, which had reached down to your clit to collect your fluids.

He makes you lie on your side and smiles, then caresses your cheek and leaves a bite on your shoulder before licking your fluids away.

"I could go on until dawn."

"Fuck me."

In the end he wasn't so sweet like you thought, not in bed.

TAGLIST 🎀 : @yongbokkiesworld @gloomy-k @raindropsondragons @linocvp1d @iiamthedramaa @snowyquokka @pynchkilledme @y4kie @ihrtlix @hyunjinnnsgirl @sugarsweetsugarsweet @reader1221 @bubblebisk @palindrome969 @resi4skz @trulymadxoxo @captainchrisstan @yyfka @boldy-49 @skzruby @mxmokoa12 @hyunjinhoexxx @lilalustig13 @tinys0ftie @xxstrayland @ilovejeongin007 @idontevenknow75 @strayywayy @lurking-coconut @brojustfknkillm3 @beautyinhypnosis @klyde06 @yessssssooo @cgnab @neyangi @miinhoo @moonlight-the-writer @meilix @felixismybf @gabriellacasteel @chrizzztopherbang

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lordprettyflackotara · 4 days

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if u think i’m pretty || chris sturniolo

SMUT. 18+. Minors DNI. tw: hate fucking. lots of it. bickering while fucking? idk you get the gist. finally got around to writing about chris. can you believe i scrapped like 5 fics? 🥴 yeah me either! also, sequel with matt if yall want it ;)

“Christopher fucking Sturniolo!”

Your words were laced with venom, the staircase rumbling beneath you as you stomped upstairs. Faintly you could hear Matt call out for you, your mind too filled with rage to hear him properly.

Pornographic moans flooded your eardrums as you reached Chris’s room, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. Your closed fist rattled his door, the dramatic moans coming to a screeching halt.

“Open the fucking door dickwad!” You screamed. Impatiently you tapped your foot, deciding he was taking too long. You grabbed the door handle, (surprised to find it unlocked), and swung the door open.

It was almost comical watching Chris and a girl you didn’t know scramble to get themselves dressed.

“What the fuck are you doing in here? Get the fuck out! Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” Chris spat, shoving his gray sweatpants on. For a brief moment you felt bad for the girl, her waterline filling with tears. She was just one of many you had seen this week. You grabbed a shirt you presumed to be hers, handing it to her. You took a deep breath, containing your anger as you looked at her.

“Please get dressed and for the love of God, find someone better to fuck,” You sighed. The blonde was gone in a flash, practically sprinting out of Chris’s room. You crossed your arms, shooting lasers out of your eyes as you glared at the brunette across from you. Oh, only if looks could kill.

“I’m not believing my phone magically teleported into the dishwasher of all places,” You snarled. Your phone had been missing for six hours straight, your iphones location still saying it was at the triplets house. You had dragged Matt and Nick all around their house, searching from the ceiling to the floor. When you had finally accepted defeat, you had opened the dishwasher to grab a bowl to make a snack.

And to your displeasure, your phone was sopping wet, sitting in plain sight on the rack.

“You have zero proof I did that, literally zero,” Chris argued. Your eyes briefly flickered to his exposed chest, the amount of skin throwing you off. You shook your head, showing Chris your ruined phone. “Really? Because I can’t recall the last time you did dishes but you magically did them last night,” You snapped. Chris shrugged nonchalantly, a cocky smirk creeping across his lips.

“What can I say? I figured i’d help out the household,”

That’s it.

You chucked your phone at him, the brunette dodging the attack by seconds. It was ruined away, even the rice method was unable to save your phone. It smacked against the wall, the sound making Chris jump. “Maybe your phone wouldn’t be ruined if you weren’t having very LOUD phone sex with your boyfriend!” Chris yelled. You threw your hands up in the air, completely dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? Why would I ever-” You began arguing, before it clicked.

You weren’t having phone sex with anyone, that was for sure. But you stayed over at the Sturniolo household frequently, to the point where you were there more often than you were home. As much as Chris drove you insane, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. The concept of the attraction being forbidden, soured by years and years of bickering, did something inside of you.

You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, even though you didn’t want it to. Chris snickered at your loss of words, shooting you a genuine smile. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He teased. In a swift motion you dashed across the room, your palm connecting with his cheek. Your tension with Chris had never gone beyond yelling. He had never crawled under your skin so much before, embarrassment seeping over you as you thought about the whole house hearing what he said.

A long pause silenced the room, the sound of the slap echoing through out your ears. Chris took a moment to process what you had just done, before his sharp gaze meant yours. His hand flew to your throat, gripping the sides as he threw you against the nearest wall. The air was knocked out of your lungs, your body in fight or flight mode. He easily towered over you, his sharp blue eyes filled with rage.

“You’re such a fucking whore,” Chris grumbled. He squeezed the sides of your neck harder, a whimper escaping your lips. His grip loosened, his attention fully dedicated to the sound you had made. The brunette tilted his head to the side curiously, as if he hadn’t believed what he just heard. “Did you just whimper?” He questioned. You shook your head no, Chris’s knee spreading your legs apart. Testing the waters, he brought his face closer to yours.

“You know, your little stunt prevented me from finishing earlier. Perhaps you’d like to help me out,” Chris purred, the glint of lust in your eyes telling him everything he needed to know. You rolled your eyes, your heart beginning to race as his body pressed against yours. “If you’re going to kiss me get on with it before I change my mind,” You said plainly. Chris’s grip on your throat tightened, your airway becoming restricted.

“You’ve always been a mouthy one,” He muttered, roughly bringing his lips to yours.

Chris hated how good you tasted, how good you smelled. He hated how your skin always looked so soft, your lips so plump. He despised how confident you were, always charging into everything in your life head first. What Chris actually liked, was that you challenged him. He knew that his infatuation with you wasn’t actually feelings, just raw and untamed lust. But fuck, with your lips against his, it made him want to change his mind.

The two of you clawed off each other’s clothes, discarding the clothing to the floor. Chris’s tongue swiped across your lower lip, before sliding inside. His kisses were rough and sloppy, your body addicted to the electricity he made run down your spine. You pushed him harshly against the bed, his back hitting the soft mattress underneath him.

You straddled him quickly, attempting to take control of the situation. Ever so slowly you grinded your wet cunt against his exposed shaft, a groan escaping his lips. Chris cockily put his hands behind his head, admiring you. “Go ahead, get yourself off just by grinding on me. You can do it pretty girl,” Chris instructed. You felt heat dash across your cheeks at the sound of his praise, your hips moving seemingly on their own.

Curses left your lips as you threw your head back. “Making me get myself off since you can’t do it? Figures,” You managed to say, your movements becoming more desperate. Chris leaned forward on his elbows, watching your cunt slide up and down his shift. “I’d watch your words ma, i’ll overstimulate you until you’re nothing but a cock craving whore,” Chris warned. His warning felt real, the threat in it seeking genuinely true. Even if you didn’t want to believe it.

Chris bit his bottom lip as you shamelessly grinded against him, every little movement providing pleasure to your clit. “You really think i’d fuck as many girls as I do if I couldn’t make them cum? I thought you were supposed to be smart,” Chris said coldly, mockingly tilting his head to the side. Your gaze landed back on the man beneath you, ignoring his cock in between your folds. “Yeah? I thought I was supposed to be overstimulated by now. What happened to that?” You challenged.

He was quick to change positions, your back landing against the mattress before you could think. He roughly spread your thighs apart, shoving two fingers into your cunt. A gasp of surprise was ripped from your throat, his spare hand resuming its place as your personal collar. Chris’s name spilled off of your lips as his fingers curled inside of you, his name becoming a sinful mantra. “What happened? Not so cocky now are we?” Chris taunted, watching you fall apart on his fingers.

The sight of you was enough to make his cock throb, his body craving attention. Chris remained focused, determined to corrupt you. “Open your fucking mouth slut,” Chris ordered. You so without a second thought, flattening your tongue across your bottom lip. He gripped your face harshly, leaning over and spitting into your mouth. “Swallow it,” He growled, watching you intently. You did as you were told, swallowing his saliva. You felt humiliated as it slid down your throat, the feeling euphoric.

“Thats a good girl, now why don’t you cum on my fingers for me? Hmm?” Chris asked. His words of praise made the rope inside of you snap, your orgasm washing over you without warning. Your vision went white, your thighs trembling as Chris removed his fingers from your aching cunt. You watched as he sucked them clean, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so.

Still coming down from your high, you put every last bit of energy into rolling your eyes. “Are you going to fuck me or just stare?” You asked. Chris’s cocky smile fell, replaced with a frown. “Nothings ever good enough for you, is it?” He replied, crawling on top of you. He brushed the tip of his cock up and down your folds teasingly, enjoying hearing you audibly whine for him. “Why’d you destroy my phone?” You asked, your coherent thoughts interrupted by him shoving himself inside of you.

You both moaned in unison, the unholy sounds vibrating off of the walls. “Why’d you decide to have phone sex in my house?” Chris gritted out, sliding himself further into you. He had more girth than you expected, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I asked you first dipshit,” You spat, fighting back a groan as he slid in further. Chris could feel your walls spasming around his cock, the sensation enough to make him cum right then and there. But he knew you’d never let him live it down.

“Yeah? Well I asked you second,” Chris replied, bottoming out inside of you. The tip of his shaft brushed against your g spot, the slightest movement of his hips making you whimper. “If you must know I wasn’t having phone sex, dumbass,” You said honestly. Chris pulled his hips back at a teasing rate, entertaining the argument. “Yeah? So what were you doing?” He questioned, doubting what you were saying. His hips bucked back into yours, hitting your g spot purposefully slow. He was drawing his thrust out, enjoying the sight of you squirming beneath him.

“I-I was thinking of you, alright? Now are you going to fuck me or what?” You rambled, embarrassed by your confession. Chris paused for a moment, soaking in your words. He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. “Is that so? Well, I destroyed your phone because I got jealous. You belong under me, just like this, taking my cock,” Chris purred, ignoring the embarrassment of his own confession. He pulled back slightly, allowing the two of you to make eye contact.

Out of breath and desperate, both of you panted as you stared into each other’s eyes. “Well, in that case, you better get on with it,” You said weakly. The same cocky smile that you hated plastered across his lips, his hips bucking into yours quickly. Your nails dug into his back as his hips continued to slam into yours, his cock buried inside of your cunt. Chris couldn’t hold back his own groans, your walls milking his cock dry.

With glazed eyes he met your gaze, relishing in the sound of your groans, chanting his name. “Open your mouth for me,” He ordered, his cock abusing your cervix. Chris enjoyed that you didn’t hesitate, obeying him without a second thought. He put two fingers into your mouth, shoving them as far back as he could. “Now fucking suck them slut,” He growled. With each degrading word you squeezed him harder, your body snitching on your hidden desire.

“You look so pretty like this, when you aren’t yapping that mouth of yours,” He huffed. A painful whine came from his lips, your nails purposefully digging deeper into his back. You pathetically bobbed your head up and down on his fingers, concealing your smirk as you heard him in audible pain. Chris slithered his spare hand down to your cunt, drawing fast and sloppy circles around your clit.

“Go on, cum for me. Cum on my cock like the good girl you are for me,” Chris panted. The extra sensation was enough to make you throw your head back, Chris’s fingers still lodged in your mouth. Your warning of your orgasm was muffled, your thighs shaking violently under him. The sight was going to be burned into Chris’s memory forever, the feeling of your cunt spasming around him giving him an undeniable ego boost. He fucked you through your orgasm, becoming preoccupied with chasing his own.

His fingers roughly grabbed your waist, fucking you rougher. “Shit, i’m gonna cum,” He admitted. Chris watched, mesmerized as his cock slid in and out of your cunt. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his hips beginning to stutter. You grabbed him by his throat, dragging him towards you. You put your mouth next to his ear, smirking as you told him, “Inside of me.”

You filthy fuck. For the first time your name fell from Chris’s lips as he came, his warm seed flooding your cunt. In unison you both tried to catch your breath, Chris carefully slipping out of you. The room was silent, besides desperate breathing, a knock came from Chris’s door.

“Yeah?”

“Your uh, doordash is here dude,” Matt said awkwardly. You could hear him place a bag in front of his bedroom door. “Thanks,” Chris replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Hey Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time maybe fuck a little quieter, Nicks pretty pissed.”

You exchanged glances with Chris, watching as he shoved on a shirt.

“You heard him, be quiet next time,”

“Next time? There won’t be a next time. Mr.I lasted thirty seconds.”

The sound of you two bickering made Matt roll his eyes, causing him to walk away. He wondered if you both would ever get married, or if you both would hate fuck forever. He shrugged at the idea, heading back downstairs. All Matt knew for sure, was that your moans made him cum the hardest he ever had. And that, was enough for him.

#chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

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back2bluesidex · 5 months

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J-Hope Fic Recommendations (18+)

If you are already following me for quite some time then you should know that I am a massive masochist and I like to torture myself by reading and writing angsty stories. So, most of the stories that I recommended are angsty as well (might as well have sad endings). So please carefully read the warnings before proceeding. Have a happy reading.

And please don't expect much from me. There are several other rec lists far better than mine. The only motive I had behind creating this list to promote some of the stories, which I think are very underrated. especially angsty ones. These stories are beautifully written so.. I just wanted to let the authors know how phenomenal of a job they have done (As a writer myself I know how much this actually means). Thanks to these amazing writers and I am grateful that they decided to share their work here with us.

[Minors please stay away from my blog!]

Key: F - Fluff, A- Angst, S- Smut, Y- Yandere, *- Personal Favorite

Oneshots

1. Ash from his fire by @filmcrystal - A, implied S, cheating au

It will break your heart so please proceed with caution.

2. Forbidden Fruit by @deepdarkdelights - A, Y

This one deals with several triggering topics. Hence, read the warnings carefully. But I can say that you will love this twisted mafia Hoseok way too much!

3. Shadows by @borathae - A, exes au

One of the most underrated stories I have ever read! Yeah, it is very angsty and Hoseok is so cruel but... we all are masochist here. lmao!

4. Heaven sent by @aquagustd - A, F, S, f2l au

Sexy soccer player Hoseok is just another name for perfection.

5. Bound by @explicit-tae - S, kinda f2l

Talk abut BDSM! GOOOD Sweet Lord!!!

6. Jigsaw by @sunshinejunghoseokie - A *

I remembered crying after reading this one. So damn underrated that it physically hurts me!!

7. Delta Disorder by @bangtanintotheroom Y, S, Supernatural au

I don't usually read supernatural stuff but this demon Hoseok is way too sexy to skip!

8. Systems of Touch by @yeoldontknow - S, F, tiny A, S2l au

Beautifully written! The author used 100% of their capabilities to write this one. Perfectly drawn Professor Hoseok with a very attractive character of reader. Certainly a treat to read.

9. 2:00 AM by @likeastarstar - A, fuckbuddy Hoseok

Part of a series but can be read as a standalone. and Hoseok is a dick in this.

10. Love Quarrels by @mirahuyooo - A, F, mafia au

A cold yet soft mafia husband Hoseok chases behind his angry wife... could there be anything better than that?

11. The Hook Up ft. JK by @minisugakoobies - S

A little bit of a triangle.. but not love? if that makes sense.

12. Entelechy by @drmflm - suggestive (I believe)

Can't call this one angst and neither is this about Hoseok (he is there, don't worry). This one is more about the reader and her growth and it's beautiful.

13. Orgasms on the verge of a nervous breakdown by @sluttyandere - S, Y *

This is very dark and quite triggering, so please don't read unless you can handle those stuff.

14. For the night by @aseaofyoongi - A, S

I cried. that's all.

15. We Shouldn't by @beahae - S **

Hands down to one of my most favourite Hoseok smuts ever!!! This one has a Jimin follow-up so make sure to read that too.

16. Real or not real by @nmjoo-n - A, S, F **

Again one of the most exquisite Hoseok fics I have ever read!

17. Checkmate by @sunshinejoon - A, S

This was supposed to have a sequel but it is perfect regardless.

18. Do I wanna know - @yoongiphoria - A, f2? ****

Now, MJ knows how much I love this one. I often read this story and I never ever get bored of it! I love this to the core and you should too!

19. Scrap - @silv3rswirls - A, Y, S

Dark and sexy. Read the warnings carefully please.

20. It's a Promise by @sahmfanficbts - S, A, Arranged marriage au

Just read it.

21. Three by @hamsterclaw - S

Again.. VERY UNDERRATED!

22. Wonderwall by @kiara-ish - A with an open ending

Might not be for the faint hearted.

23. Infatuated by @bangtanfancamp - F

If you like high school love au then this one is for you.

24. Constellations of You by @persphonesorchid - S, F, established relationship au

This is so domestic that my heart almost exploded while reading!!

25. Burning flames or paradise by @/yoongiphoria - A, tiny f ****

MJ does magic.... that's all I can say.

26. Alone again by @archivedkookie - A, F

I loooove these kinds of stories. Just the right amount of despair with the right amount of hope... beautiful.

27. Feeling Good by @bonvoyagenoona - A, S

Everything I write about this will fall short.. so I will just shut up and let you enjoy the goodness.

28. Distracted by @dilfhoseokie - S

Ahem..

29. Drink Champaign in my airplane by @/bangtanintotheroom - F, S, F2l

Perfectly embodies a rich hot CEO friend Hoseok... a fun read.

30. Keynote by @missgeniality - S **********

MY MOST FAVORITE HOSEOK ONESHOT TO EXIST IN THE PLANET. yeah.. (this has a follow-up but I like this one better)

Series

The thing is that I don't usually read series. I just don't have that patience. So this list is pretty small and forgive me for that.

1. Transference by @dark-muse-iris - A, S, F, S2l *********************

[Completed]

I wasn't the same after reading this. I can't talk about this trantric therapist Hoseok, 'cause I will never shut up if I start.

2. Kanalia by @xjoonchildx - A, S, f (?) *********************

[Ongoing]

Honestly, who isn't a sucker for Lord Jung? You must be sick if you are not. (On a side note.. Kanalia is keeping me alive from jumping off trains on tough days)

3. Guarded by @/xjoonchildx - A, S, F, S2l

[Completed]

Mafia Hoseok with dogtags. I think that's enough of an introduction.

If you want to read the Hoseok stories I write, you can checkout my Masterlist.

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ch4nb4ng · 11 months

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Give it to me Straight

Pairing: Minho x afab!reader

Genre: Best friend's forbidden older brother

Word Count: 9.1 k (yeah we got carried away once again)

Warnings: Based off of inspo (here) and (here) that is also literally porn so dont click if u dont want to see you have been warned.

Also contains: smut, worshipping, angst, mentions of alcohol and intoxication, fingering (f receiving), kissing, penetration, lots and lots of praise, semi soft smut

Notes: HEY!! this is a fic i wrote hald of last year and just forgot about it and found and decided to finish it, hope oyu enjoy !!

Summary: You had enough of your best friend brother, Minho, giving you mixed signals as you grew up, but this. This was the night that you were finally going to do something about it

The night was pretty much over, or well, it should have been. But here you were, sitting on the floor of a random person’s apartment, giggling over and over as you looked at the other 8 people also sitting down in a circle next to you. There were your friends, Sana and Hyunjin, and there were the others. Actually, quite frankly, you did not know these people until tonight. There was one person that was there, that you did know, all too well.

Minho, Lee Minho. Friend, foe? You weren’t sure what to call him, but all you knew was that you were grinding on him in the club an hour ago, hands roaming across your body, lips, teeth on your neck. It was fun, one shot after another had your mind racing, thinking about the possibilities of what could happen after you went home, with him. What wasn’t helpful was the guilt that came with such excitement.

“Fuck okay,” the stranger yelled, clapping his hands before swinging them, taking the empty vodka bottle off the kitchen bench, “let’s play a good ole fashion game of spin the bottle. Who’s in?”

“Me me me!”

The small crowd cheered in unison, but all you could do was stare at him. More guilt, more excitement, more adrenaline. The thought of kissing him did nothing but intensify the want, the need, the desire to. Wanting to hook up with your best friend’s older brother was the worst thing that you could want at this very moment.

The relationship with Minho was always strange and never straightforward. Even from the first time the two of you met. Your best friend of almost 10 years since you had been in elementary school, he was just different towards you. When you were younger, all he did was pick on you. The short scrawny boy, only a couple of years older than you. Would always chase you around the school yard, always until you fell over, or hurt yourself in some kind of way. You hated him, and had no idea why he always picked on you specifically.

It changed in middle school, however, after puberty, well, more for him. His face changed, grew taller, much more attractive in your 14 year old eyes. You denied it though, remembering how cruel he was to you. Not much changed personality wise, he was still mean. Picking on you, your grades, his sister, her grades. He was ruthless, and it made you hate him even more. Minho’s looks were easy to overlook when everything that came out of his mouth was rubbish.

It wasn’t until he left for college, and came back for summer after finishing his first year, did things change. He had grown even taller, started working out, and had joined his college’s dance team. Holy fuck did things became different. His smile beamed as soon as he walked in and you in his house, sitting at the kitchen bench.

***

“Y/n?”

You turned around, jaw dropping the moment you laid your eyes on him. He dropped everything, fast walking towards you as he picked you up, spinning you around with a large chuckle erupting from his chest. He put you down, eyes doing a quick check up and down your body before biting down on his bottom lip.

“Minho?”

“Wow, you look, really, really good.”

His stance was close, almost lingering over you, that was, until your best friend walked in, causing him to step away, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked to the fridge so nonchalantly. Your friend gave you a weird look, mouthing a ‘sorry,’ solely for his presence in the room. They never were that close.

“I forgot to tell you that he got back a few days ago and is going to be here for the summer.”

“That’s okay,” you scoffed, overexaggerated manner, “why would you need to tell me that.”

“Because I know how he can be,” she whispered, “rude, mean, very obnoxious and super, super arrogant.”

The second half of her sentence was louder, looking straight at him to make sure she knew. You just laughed, nervously, unsure how to take in the interaction.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she sighed, “please don’t bully my only friend while I’m gone.”

The man rolled his eyes, laughing as he took a large gulp from his water bottle. He walked forward, waiting for her to leave before reassessing his position. His hands leaned against the bench, body pushing forward as he leaned towards you, a smirk appearing on his lips as he looked down at you.

“I have to go, meeting a friend at the gym, but it was really, really good to see you. We should hang out sometimes if you’re free, you know, without her?”

“We should?”

“Yes,” he smirked, biting down on his bottom lip, “definitely.”

***

“Okay,” the stranger announced to himself, “I’ll go first.”

The game felt like torture. Simply watching the bottle, casting your eyes on what seemed to be an infinite amount of times, spinning on an axis. It didn’t help you at all. If anything, it intensified how dizzy you truly were feeling. Concentration was getting harder, but you refused. Refused to give up anything. You did not want to prove Minho’s point. That you would always be this little girl that is easy to pick on.

“Oh my god,” Hyunjin nudged you, “Y/n, psst, the bottle is on you.”

His knock cloaked you out of your drunken daze, bringing some sobriety back as he pointed towards the bottle, eyes opening when you saw it land on you. You looked up, seeing the stranger was already there. He was attractive, short black hair, hazel eyes, freckles. He was really cute, and your brain melted the longer he gazed at you.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you whispered, hand in front of your mouth as you giggled at his proximity. You didn’t have to look. The feeling of a pair of eyes burning into the side of your head was more than enough to know who had their eyes on you, and who didn’t. Chan did not, already ditching the game and sloppily making out with the person next to him. Hyunjin followed in pursuit, and Jisung and Sana, well, that was another story, a long time coming. The glance was brief, not long enough to focus on anybody, but well enough to know your surroundings. Enough to see the girl, who looked very familiar, but not enough to be identified by name, whisk her fingers across his inner thigh. He stayed still, not paying any mind to her as he fixated on you. The man joined in the staring contest, noticing Minho’s obviously unimpressed glare.

He swung his head back in your direction, pushing his body weight on you in the slightest. You followed, back now adjacent to the floor as he leaned over, lips hovering over your own. You brought your index finger to his lips, curious to know more about the man before he kissed you.

“Wait.”

“Is something wrong?” His facial expression changed, unsure as to why or what made you hesitate.

“Oh, no,” you giggled, full of giddyness and intoxication, “your name. I just wanted to know your name before we, well, you know.”

The man smirked, cupping your face in adoration as he leaned closer, lips wisping across your ear as he spoke.

“Well aren’t you just the cutest?”

He pulled away, eyes back in level with your own as he spoke once more, “Felix. I’m Felix.”

That was all you needed, wrapping your arms around Felix’s neck as you pulled him in, eyes closing and mouth opening and lips attacking yours. The kiss in reality, from an outside perspective, would have looked very messy. Very sloppy as lips missed each other, teeth crashed together, and also the fact that you could feel Felix’s hips moving against your own in the slightest, already half hard member grinding against your thigh. It did feel good, you couldn’t fib to yourself. The gentle friction was delicious. It was enough to make you moan discreetly, the sound lost in Felix’s mouth as the two of you continued.

You were enjoying yourself, but you also remembered not to lose yourself in the moment. Felix was fun, but he was just part of the plan. A simple pawn in a game of chess, of course being the queen and Minho the king. Sometimes you have to make some unnecessary moves to win in the long term. Even with your eyes closed, you could still feel his own burning into the back of your head. If sober, you most likely would have been feeling some kind of guilt. It wasn’t like you to rub things in other people’s faces. But you felt like it was only fitting. Yes, you wanted Minho, but after everything, your timeline with him, having a crush on him for the longest time regardless that he made your life hard, it only felt right to drag this out as much as possible.

Your eyes fluttered open, empty lidded shooting daggers at him. Appraisal came to your mind when his daggers were returned, gaze still very much fixated on you, with Felix, making out with another man right in front of him. His blood was searing, reaching boiling point at a very rapid rate. He knew you were a lot of things. Sarcastic, blunt, ‘indifferent’ towards him as you got older, or so he thought. But he didn’t take you to be a tease. He was reaching the point of no return, and if you didn’t stop this act, this play scene just for him, he was going to do something he regretted.

“Hmm fuck,” Felix grumbled, pulling away from you, “has anyone ever told you that you’re a really good kisser?”

Your eyes flickered back to the man on top of you, quickly averting your gaze to avoid any deflections from Minho, Chan, or any of the others there that you knew.

“Hey man, what are you doing?”

You sat up immediately, looking up to see Minho’s friend, Jisung, standing over you. His tone was playful, but the adrenaline was kicking in. The several times you met Minho’s friends, they were decent enough to be nice to your face. Anytime you went over, you could hear them. Talking about how you look, always asking Minho about you. Just them teasing him about you. Maybe it was the reason as to why he had so much disdain for you. They were also protective, very protective of him, and probably the reason why they were standing over you right now.

“Oh hey man, you’re not her boyfriend are you?”

“Who, me?” Jisung laughed, hard, almost hysterically, bringing a hand to his chest to calm himself down, “no no, not me, but the guy over there might be a little mad that you’re making out with his girl.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing onto Felix’s arm, other hand tucking under his chin as you pressed another haste kiss to his lips. You gave Minho one more look, noticing his fists turned inwards, hard shaped as he watched your interactions with the new guy accelerating.

“Good,” He smirked, standing up, and reaching a hand out to you as an invitation, “Did you want to hang out in my room? It’s just down the hall.”

“Sure,” you replied bluntly as you took his invitation. You allowed Felix to guide you, taking one last look at Jisung. Before making your way, you were interrupted one more time. It made you scoff when Minho grabbed your wrist, finally able to do something himself, not his friends doing it for him.

“Y/n?”

“What do you want?”

“Where are you going?”

“What do you think?”

With a heavy grip, attempting to shake yourself out of his grip. There was no way you were giving up on this act yet.

“You just met the guy tonight?”

“Okay and? It’s not like that ever stopped you before. At least I’m not at home, forcing everyone else to hear you late at night.”

He looked down, knowing he had been beaten to the punch. You resisted once more, able to come out of his grip as you looked up and down at him once more, “Stop acting like you give a shit what I do.”

You watched him open his mouth, but missed out on whatever he was going to say. You laughed to yourself, the swift motion of the man from the other side, Felix, the one who was giving you the attention you needed right now. Without a word, he closed the door behind you, spare hand placed on your lower back as he lead you to what seemed to be his bed.You sat down first, Felix making quick work as he stood over you once more, index finger stuck on your shoulder as he effortlessly as he ‘pushed’ you over, torso hovering on top of yours, just like he did previously. You had to give it to him. This Felix guy was smooth. The way he looked down at you, raking your body with every single eye nerve, the gentle twitch when he noticed extra skin showing on your body for a slight moment. He definitely was contributing to your uprising arousal, but the thing that really turned you on was the mere possibility of Minho hearing this. Having his ear up to the door, curious to see what you would really do.

“Hey,” Felix whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, taking you out of your thoughts completely, “everything okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah, where were we?”

You brought a hand to his arm, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion as his own came back to your chin, pinching it forward, lips doting to reconnect with his. His lips were smooth, not a crack or dry spot in sight or in feeling. The kiss was a lot more connected, a lot more teamwork and passion. His tongue lazily slipped inside of your mouth, picking up with much brute and force as his hips charged, recreating the prior friction against your core. Felix had one hand on the side of your jaw, the one on your chin snaking around and cascading down, in between your cleavage, past your navel, brimming on the edge of your undergarment line. You gasped, immediately, not expecting things to move so quickly. A stifled whimper escaped your lips, enjoying the friction his fingers created around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Oh,” you groaned, slightly high pitched and confused at first, but once his fingers dived past your dress, underneath your core, right in the center of your sweet spot, you groaned again, a deeper, more gratifying noise bellowing in response.

“Does that feel good?”

“Mhm,” you whispered, looking up at him, “feels so good already.”

Your hand felt dizzy again, a lightheaded texture adding. You weren’t sure if it was his fingers or the alcohol speaking, but it most likely was the loud bang that came from the east part of the room. You jumped immediately, bumping heads with Felix as you quickly covered yourself, given no time to fix your hair as you were being dragged out, Minho’s jaw clenched as he walked you out.

“Sorry, uh Felix, it was nice to meet you,” you yelled down the hallway, pushed all the way to the front door.

“Minho what the fuck?”

“Shut up and get in the car,” he growled, not putting up with any nonsense that you were about to spew at him, “Jisung’s taking us all home, your friends included.”

“Ugh, whatever,” you scoffed, the digging of his fingers becoming slightly painful. You opened the door, seeing Hyunjin’s smirk as soon as he saw you, hand in hand with Minho. He never had to say anything, he always knew how you felt about him, even when it wasn’t clear to you.

The midnight breeze was very apparent, hitting you like a truck. The goosebumps on your skin raised in an instant, shiver running down your spine as you walked. Minho let go of your wrist, removing his jump over his head, and plopping it on top of yours. You wanted to turn, scream at him for ruining your hair, not even thinking about your makeup. But honestly, you were just tired. It was late.

***

You pushed the button down in the backseat, letting the cool breeze smack you across the face as Jisung drove down the highway. It felt nice, distracting you from the imminent pressing of your best friend’s brother inconveniently pressing up against you, too big for the middle seat. Of course he had to sit next to you. Invade your personal space, your privacy. He was still overprotective of you, even when you were by yourselves. It was annoying, and you really didn’t know why he was always like this with you after the needless torture that was gorwing up with him around.

You decided to put the window up, a sudden drowsiness coming over you as you leaned your head against the window. Your eyes were fluttering, half lidded when you felt someone whispering, right up to your ear. His lips were cold, roughly but incidentally lingering on your lobe.

“Y/n,” Minho hushed, patting your arm lightly, “y/n, baby.”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows, “what is it?”

“We’re here, wake up.”

“Oh,” you sighed, releasing your weight on the window. Your eyes opened, turning from the window, which was a big mistake. You caught yourself, inches away from your face. Apart from the club, it was the closest you had been ever to him. You saw him, looking down at your lips, causing you to gulp loudly. You wanted to lean in, push away all the doubt you had in your mind, and follow your heart. To have him on your lips, around your body, caressing every crevice, every curve. It was something you had fantasized about in your head several times, whether you wanted to or not. Your hand flew to his chest, truly speechless and unsure what to say.

“Minho. I-”

He licked his lips, fingers latching onto your jaw, thumb against the subtlety of your lips. He flipped, lip bouncing back as he leaned even closer. His breath had never felt so imminent, not even the first time the two of you had shared a kiss.

***

“Did you need help?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest, about to lose balance on the stool. The tea bags were high in the cupboard, and you weren’t the tallest person going around. Minho put his arms out, helping you adjust yourself before stepping down and back onto the ground.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “you know me, never able to reach anything.”

“It’s okay, they’re stored pretty high up.”

Without giving you time to move, he reached over, torso pressed against your chest, half of his body weight leaning on you as he reached up to grab one for you. Your face rose in heat as he placed it on the bench behind you, keeping firm in his position.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, still not moving, “I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh, uhm no, it’s okay” you mumbled back, pushing the hair behind your ear. He beat you to the other side, lifting his fingers, watching how delicately the fibers of your hair curved along your ear lobe.

Faces inching closer, it felt like do or die, but you would rather get hit by a truck than make the first move. Minho was the type to flirt, hard. He knew he could get anyone he wanted. College really changed him. For the better though, even if it meant he became a mass fuckboy.

“You have a really, uhm, beautiful face.”

He had become nervous all of a sudden, and you couldn’t help but smile. Smile at both his nerves and slight awkwardness, as well as his proximity.

“Uhm thanks,” you mumbled again, scared that if you attempted to speak at a normal volume, it would squeak, “you have a nice face as well.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, piercing eyes boring into yours.

“Make me.”

He hesitated for a brief moment, before bringing both hands to your face, pressing his lips to yours. It was soft at first, a series of gentle pecks you wrapped your hand palms around his neck, keeping him close. His body felt good, right when close to you.

It didn’t take long for things to heat up however, Minho’s tongue begging for access as you gave it to him willfully, a gentle hum as he simultaneously rolled his hips into yours once. A soft groan escaped your lips, causing him to pull away. The smirk on his face was priceless; you knew he was satisfied with himself. His hands snaked down to your waist, lifting you up and placing you on the kitchen bench. Minho nudged your leg with his left knee, spreading them wide, allowing himself to fit into the curve. He kept his digits across your fingertips, gently tapping as he leaned back in, skipping the innocent kisses and heading straight to a heavy, heavy makeout. The noises erupting were increasing in quantity, and it wasn’t until you heard footsteps running down the steps were you snapped back into reality. Hands on his chest, you pushed him off quickly, pushing your hair back in front of your face.

“Y/n what’s taking you so long?”

“Oh uhm, I was just trying to reach the teabags.”

“Yeah,” Minho joined in, helping you cover your ass, “I just grabbed it for her, seeing as she was already in my way to get to the glasses, annoying ass.”

“Okay whatever weirdo,” she replied to him, “stop annoying Y/n.”

***

The memory of the flashback playing in spurts, ones that your intoxicated mind was probably failing to accurately recall the event. It was, however, enough for you to pull away. Saying nothing, you turned away, opening the car door, semi-stumbling onto the ground as you jumped out the car, heading towards his front door. Luckily your best friend was out of town, away on a camping weekend with her boyfriend and her parents, because if she heard you walking in with Minho, it was game over.

“Y/n,” he whispered, tone harsh like he wanted to yell, “y/n.”

It was nothing but a faint noise in the distance. You stood there, in front of the door, impatiently waiting for it to be unlocked. It wasn’t until you could feel him. He grabbed your wrist, almost having to yank you back to stop you.

“What,” you whispered back, similar in tone, “what do you want?”

He waited. It looked like he was trying to put a thought together, knowing that he needed to say something very important. It could make or break: everything. He took a step closer, that familiar feeling of adrenaline, no, some other feeling that you couldn’t describe. Made your heart race, body sweat. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was. All you knew was that it only happened when he was around you.

“I’m, I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him, adoration at how gentle his skin glowed in the moonlight. Fuck, this was annoying. Why did he have to be so hot? It would have been the easy way out to forgive him and let him do what you craved, yearned for. But it was simply too much to do so. This man had been toying with your heart for a long time. Whether he had a crush on you for the lingering amount of time that you had, you deserved better than someone who played with you for their own amusement.

“What are you sorry for?”

Your tone was calm, yet still firmly questioning him. It was easier to just deny the night events than argue about it.

***

The music was loud, deafening as Minho, dragging you by the delicacy of your poor wrist, locked in a spot right next to the speaker right beside the DJ of the club, aka pole position. At first the dancing was innocent, a bright smile of pure joy (and intoxication) plastered across your face, holding each other’s hands as you pushed and pulled them back and forth. It wasn’t until the motions of arms were not moving in the opposite directions, somehow were both pulling in his direction, right up against his waist. The music was much too loud to allow your rational cognitions to process the sequence of events. Facing him, not facing him. Appropriate distance, very much appreciate distance. It was hard to explain how you ended up with your back pressed against Minho’s chest, somehow in the monstrosity of alcoholic beverages and shots actually moving your hips in a synchronized way with his. Maybe it was the firm grip, thumb digging into the soft flesh that was hardly hidden under that dress, making sure that this was the only place you needed to be, that he wanted you to be.

Your hands easily followed too, palms on top of this tendon illuminating the side of his hands as his lips rested on the outside of the cartilage that made up your ear. The second time you could feel the magic that was his lips. The crowd that was Minho’s friends and the new, yet very much fun strangers that would end up making the later house party were long gone at this very moment. The only thing you could remember was coming with Minho, and the last thing you wanted to do was leave with him.

“Mmmm,” was all that could be heard, well no, felt from the man behind you. The vibrations of his lips were the only indicator that he was trying to say something. His teeth soon followed. Gentle, almost kitten-like nibbles nipped at the heated flesh of the neck and shoulder, head falling limp against his own shoulder as he continued to chuckle inbetween. There seemed to be an innocence to his antics, almost like he didn’t want to hurt you. Yet knowing the downright filthy desires, things he wanted to do, for a numerous amount of time was very much ironic.

Turning around, you pulled away, eyes boring into yours and his face came closer and closer. Eyes fluttering shut like a butterfly's wings for a brief moment, desire had never been stronger.

“There he is, Jisung!”

And just like that, it was over. Reality came back and your Minho clouded fog dissipated in a matter of moments, and it must have for him. You had never seen someone take their hands of someone with such speed. The timely reaction of Minho brought you back to a realistic part of your life. The one where this was nothing but a dream, and Minho was once again out of reach, and the many barriers that were his friends, your friend being in the way, made you nothing but a pawn in his chess game.

***

You stood there in silence, the only sound that could be heard was the ringing in your ears from the loud music prior. The want for him to explain himself was one of such desperation. A sign, anything at this point. Yes, you were very much exhausted from the games but if it was all worth it for him to finally do something about it in the end, the fatigue would be easily wiped away.

“I don’t mean to be this way. So, uhm, aggressive? Or the opposite, I don’t know I-”

“Minho in the nicest way possible, I’m tired and we’ve both had a big night. We can talk about it in the morning.”

Using the spare key that your friend had so graciously given you as a symbol of how much time you truly spent at her house, his house, over the years, the door was unlocked, you ripping your shoes off and letting them laz sprawl against the living room carpet as your body heavily dragged up the stairs. Your feet automatically knew the way to her room, 4 paces straight and two to the left. To get to his it was 7 paces straight 2 to the right. The 4th step on the second floor felt unnatural at this moment, body wanting nothing more than to be pressed up against him in a deep slumber, you craved it; but you knew better at the same time.

“Y/n.”

Silence. You could feel him coming closer, but it’s honestly just too painful at this point to even wait for anything more.

“Y/n.”

Silence, again. It wasn’t until you could feel the unintentionally harsh pull at your wrist, once again pulling back and up against him.

“Y/n wait.”

“For fucks sake Minho,” you huffed, yanking your arm away from his grip, “leave me alone.”

“No, I want to talk about it now.”

Nothing but an eye roll followed, ignoring him and storming into her room. He followed in pursuit, the first time any kind of behavior like this from Minho had happened before. Sitting on the edge of the side of her bed, you turned away as you took off your jewelry, precious earring and delicate chain necklace lying on this decorative plate placed on the bedside table.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Can we please stop pretending like there isn’t something going on between us?”

He was not serious. His bold statement made you stop, turn around and face him.

“You have to be joking right now.”

“Why would I be joking?”

“Minho” you yelled, standing back up and right in front of him, “this is nothing but a fucking game to you! We don't have a problem, YOU do.”

“I don’t play games with you,” Minho scoffed, eyes wide in his own disbelief, “you play games with me.” His voice was also beginning to rise in volume.

“That’s such a fucking lie! You’ve been playing games with me for years. Three quarters of my life! I know that you hated me or couldn’t stand me for most of that but then all of a sudden you come back from college and you want to be around me and all over me?”

“That’s not true-”

“Yes it is! You couldn’t stand me!! Then the kiss in the kitchen? Tonight, you were all over me and I could tell, drunk or sober, that you were enjoying yourself. Until your friends come along and I’m nothing but a secret little game-”

“No Y/n, shut up, that's not true!”

“Explain yourself then!”

Both of your chests were heaving simultaneously, the heated exchange taking the breath out of the two of you. There was no part of you that was wrong, and you knew better than to lack confidence, especially to someone who has kicked you around for what felt like your whole life.

“I never hated you,” he whispered, once again shifting the tense atmosphere in the room. He took a step closer, that goddamn palm resting on your cheek, fingertips pushing the baby hairs sticking to your forehead as you took him in, listening deeply to his words, “I could never hate somebody like you, Y/n.”

His tonality had become the softest you had ever heard someone speak. It was empowering to keep him on his toes, gaze fixated on him, but lips refusing to move. You could see it. The dip in his own gaze below your eye line, past the tip of your nose, and right to where you wanted his lips to be: your lips. The right thing, like your previous thoughts, was to pull away, save yourself the heartbreak.

“Let me take the time to show you how false that statement really is.”

But god, was it it easier to just give him. His approach was gentle, but the texture of his lips felt like the key to everything. The light weight of his lips were equivalent to a tuft of feathers falling from a clear sky. Your lips tussled in return, wanting to kiss the man you were in love with so much passion, yet so much reservation. His lips, unlike the first time, had so much admiration for you, somehow the feeling was communicated in the way his lips touched yours, the way his tongue slipped into your mouth, colliding with your own. The world stopped spinning, and the only thing that mattered was Minho’s lingering touch.

His hands scrambled to find an appropriate spot. His palms spread across your waist, the pressure of his weight pushing you to the edge of the bed, a small shriek escaping your lips as the sudden knock of balance leaves you lying against the material of the bed. His hands left your sides, one coming to your face as he broke away, taking a moment to admire you underneath him in all your beauty. He lifted his fingers to your forehead, brushing the baby hairs on your skin before smiling and leaning back in for another kiss. Hands around his neck, you brought him closer, gasping into his mouth when you felt the roughness of his knee conveniently sitting between your inner thigh, spreading to make room for his own.

You decided to take the liberty of breaking the kiss back this time, Minho rising on his own as he pulled his shirt off in one swift motion. Even the way he moved his limbs was majestic. Eyes widening for a brief moment as the shock of Minho’s body that you had seen many times, especially post-college transformation, it still amazed you how attractive this man was. The proximity all these years amounting to this moment. All the teasing, ignoring, negative behavior came as the collateral of coming to this moment; and you would tolerate all of it again if this what it would lead to. Which is why you refused to rush things, savor the moment as much as you could.

“Minho, wait.”

“Yes?”

“Can we just,” you were hesitant to ask for what felt like a silly request, “I don’t want to rush anything. Can we just make out a little longer?”

His chuckle was one of the most adored. He nodded as he got up from the bed, sitting back down at the edge of the right side. As he turned to put his leg atop of the bed, he leant on his left elbow, patting the empty spot next to him, a very adorable invitation that you simply could not resist. You shooed over, facing Minho as he pinched your chin, bringing your lips to his again. The kisses, for the moment, stayed soft, sweet. He was allowing you to take your time because he was ready. Minho wanted you so bad, but he knew better than to rush. If anything, the anticipation made him fall for you more.

However, the heat was unconsciously beginning to turn up once bodies became involved. The subtle grind of his hips against yours was sending you into a frenzy, and the friction was something you needed to chase. At first you were holding back, only wanting the generosity of his tongue and lips, but now the selfish part of you was taking over, and there was nothing more that you wanted than to have sweet passionate sex with the man in front of you. Gently pushing his chest away, he looked up, confused as you turned away from him, standing up and undoing the zip on the back of your dress.

“Oh,” was all he could say, a smirk plastered on his face as he dragged your body back toward him, now covered in undergarments, back to the bed. His hands became a lot more adventurous, taking the signal of you undressing yourself as an acceleration of what you wanted. Still facing each other, Minho placed a gentle peck to your lips as his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you much closer to him, and exactly where you wanted to be.

Once the lack of space was established, Minho brought the tip of his digits just above your panty line. A small gasp elicited from your lips once his fingers dipped down to your clothing covering your core. Just above the center of the folds. Minho’s lips quiver at your body relaxing underneath his touch. The more vulnerable you became, the more in love he fell with you. Each second. Your eyes fluttering almost shut, hips gently bucking underneath the pressure of his fingers had his mind screaming with adoration. His gaze was making you shy, causing you to bury your head in his naked chest. You giggled with innocence at how good his fingers felt. The other times you reminisced, romanticized what this would be like was tenfold of what you actually expected.

“You’re so beautiful” he whispered, a soft kiss to the tip of your forehead. Your head came out of his chest, a somewhat fucked out expression already coatign your face as his fingers traveled back to the top of your panties, fingers grasping the hem before asking, “Can I take this off?”

You nodded, this time without hesitance as you turned to your front, assisting Minho in letting the thin fabric subtracted from your body. Your bra soon followed, leaving you completely exposed. Minho still had his pants on which you felt to be a little unfair, but the tent that was beginning to form in his pants was a reason enough for him to keep them on longer.

Turning back to your side, you reached him in another sensual kiss, bodies now as close as they had even been. Minho’s fingers had much more to travel, left palm already reaching for a gentle squeeze of your best breast. His touch was noticeable enough to break away, a small groan at the digits brushing your nipple. Another chuckle escaped his lips as he watched your nipples get harder under his touch.

“Wow,” Minho gasped, gently pinching the soft flesh his eyes couldn’t help but be glued to, “you look amazing.”

“Do I?”

“More than I could have ever imagined.”

Your silence made him giggle, fingers snaking back down to where the two of you wanted them to be. It was almost embarrassing how easily his index and middle finger slipped between your folds, already coated in your arousal as his digits swirled around your pussy hole. It was evident that he wanted his fingers coated, so when he brought them up to his lips, tongue evidently out as he licked them clean, then slid them back down to your waist once more, spreading your folds apart and pushing on your clit like a button. Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders for support, the sudden amount of sensation in comparison to before sending you into a frenzy. Your jaw had already become slick, the gentle whines and moans spilling out sound after sound.

“Fuck,” He cursed under his breath, lips right in front of your tits, teeth grazing over the geneoristy of the skin, “you have the features of an angel.”

His shower of compliments caused a louder moan to slip from your lips. It really wasn’t something that you expected. The fantasy you had of Minho being a rough, man handling lover contrasted to the man that presented in front of you right now. But it was much better than anything you ever thought he was to be.

His fingers moved in delicate circular motions, Minho himself groaning at how pretty you looked under his fingers. He kept his curiosity peaked, fingers traveling back down to your hole before plunging them inside, tips instantly curling to bring his lips right up against his own.

“Minho oh my god,” you gasped, short breaths hinting at a rapid pace from your throat as he started to move them back and forth, “your fingers are so good.”

“Your welcome,” he smiled, wrapping his free arm around your chest to adjust for the way your torso squirmed against him. Your own hands soothing his arm that did all the work as he picked up his pace, a slight bump forming into your pussy. Minho’s pace became quickly unforgiven, a spill of curse words that made you feel extremely dirty coming from your mouth. The irony of feeling dirty from cussing and not from the two fingers being shoved into your whole was comedic.

“Lift it,” Minho grunted, attempting to fix his position so he could get a better angle to finger you from, “lift your leg and put it on my hip.”

You did as he said, a gut wrenching moan that was bubbling in your throat bursting at the seams as your maneuver allowed his finger to enter deeper, stronger, harder. The combination of skin slapping and wetness could be heard by anyone in the house if there was anyone in there, the noise echoing the room as you watch his eyebrows furrow, bitten bottom lip in concentration. All this time, Minho wanted nothing more than to see you be happy, make you feel good. It was in half disbelief that he was present in this moment that he had dreamed of several times. And his perception of you, with his fingers inside of you, moaning his name over and over exceeded expectations to say the least. The temperature that began to rise on your cheeks was spreading to your limbs, muscles slowly coiling as the pleasure continued to build at your core. Minho’s jaw clenched, increasing his effort and strength in, with much effort, fucking you with his fingers. His pace became even quicker, desperate and motivated to make you shake under his fingers.

“Minho please,” you cried, suffocating his lips with yours to muffle the continuous noise that baffled the room, “so good.”

Your sentences, if you could even call them that, were not coherent in the slightest. Yet it did not matter. All Minho could focus on was how beautiful you looked with your lips pouted, the gentle teeth marks under your bottom lip from biting down on your precious skin too hard. The condensation beginning to cover the skin of your forehead as your eyebrows scrunched together, your facial expression could have been interpreted as anger. However, Minho failed to see it that way. He saw you as nothing but an angelic woman that he had the gratitude of being allowed to share a moment of vulnerability with. There was no judgment in his eyes as he felt your tight pussy clench around his knuckles, knowing how close to what you were, and what he wanted to achieve for your sake.

“It’s okay baby,” he whispered, wiping the moisture glistening on the nose, half of your face shimmering in the moonlight as he withdrew his fingers, rubbing the sensual juices all over your swollen clit as your legs began to shake in response to the overwhelming stimulation you were experiencing.

“Can you feel it?”

“Mhhm,” you whined, suppressing your lips together as you focused on him, analyzing to him the intricate details of your body. His lips moved with vigor, leaving a string of semi wet kisses along your shoulder, kissing every little skin contusion, beauty mark, scab, wrinkle, dimple. You name it, Minho was eager to use his lips to analyze you, analyze the way your skin felt against him. The idea increased your arousal to a level you thought would not be possible.

“I’m gonna cum Minho I-”

“It’s okay baby,” Minho hushed you, wanting to relive any pressures or expectations you may think you need to fulfill “even the way you speak such vulgar things is angelic to me.”

“I’m cumming,” was all you could cry out. You know that once this was over, you would be appreciative of how gentle and warm his presence was to you during this unguarded moment, but right now all you could focus on was the tight coil in the pit of your stomach that would give out at any second. Like your foreshadowed, your body was coming undone under him, Minho unable to give up the succulent ability that was your pussy as he reinserted his two fingers back into your hole, thumb almost ghosting over your clit in an attempt to not overwhelm your body in sensation.

Minho thought you couldn’t get any more fascinating. Even the way you orgasmed was angelic. Legs spread wide open as you let him have his way. The trust you developed in him in this intricate moment was such an attraction but mainly an appreciation. He knew that he had not been the most trustworthy person to you. His mixed signals and just overall treatment of you was simply a mind of confusion.

On the contrary, every negative moment that you shared with him melted away. The part of him having his fingers inside of you, bringing you to climax was not what you were focused on. You were focused on the attention. Solely the attention, his words held so much more weight than his actions to you in this moment, and all he did was mumble sweet nothings, adoring every single part of you that you wanted Minho to love.

“Fuck baby,” Minho groaned, finally withdrawing his fingers entirely from your core as he palmed his own arousal. But he merely wasted any time on that as he stood up and discarded his pants in an instant. A half lidded gasp came from your throat as you watched his length spring free from the suffocation of his previous undergarments. Minho laid back on the bed, back against the bed as you extended a hand in which you willingly took, enjoying the sudden rapture that Minho had tangled the two of you in. His fingertips came to your face once more, brushing those delicate strands away as he took his precious time. Willingly ignoring the fact that your very slicked up pussy was creating friction against his tip, he was more focused on your face. The crinkles underneath your eyes that came up when you smiled. The way your lips turned upwards in the slightest. The longer he looked up at you, on his lips, body pressed up against his, the more he fell in love. Both of your hands now came to his face. It felt like hours upon hours that the two of you had been looking at each other. Calmness fell over the room as you leant down to kiss him again. The taste of him was simply nor enough. You needed him. On you, next to you; it did not matter. His presence was something that you truly craved. Sexually, platonically, romantically, it did not matter. Any closeness with Minho was more than adequate. Deciding to lift your hips slightly, your hands followed, gripping him as you slowly slid onto him, a deep groan leaving his lips, a soft moan leaving yours as he stretched you out. Before you could even initiate any moment, Minho grabbed your arm lifting your palm to his face as he sent kisses up your arm, almost as if he was in complete disbelief of what was happening in this moment.

“I just want to worship you my god,” he whispered, making you giggle in the slightest.

His lips traveled just under your shoulder, arms wrapping around his torso to bring you into another embrace. It was that his strength was brute enough to lift you up, and put your back down. Hisbody almost moved with vigor, wanting to make sure the experience was an equal one. A sharp whine came from you as he established a gentle pace, your whole body being used in an attempt to pleasure the both of you. Someone may have seen this as selfish, Minho controlling the pace, but really, he just couldn’t get enough of how much he wanted you. The amount of times he had thought about this moment over the years almost derailed him. But nothing could be more perfect than the moment right now.

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, then on his chest, across his face, you were too stimulated to be organized with your hand placements. It’s just what he did to you. Minho could tell that you were unsure, so instead he just put his head in your chest, almost wanting you to wrap your fingers though the bse of his scalp, the gentle texture of your fingers against his scalp could have honestly made his toes curl. Just like you, Minho craved your touch in any way shape or form, so the combined combainton of your closeness, tussling digits, and tight pussy was sending him into a headspin.

“Minho,” you hesitated, unsure, if he could hear you in the muffle of your chest, “Minho.”

You were desperate for him to hear you, yanking on his locks to pull him away from the darkness and back into your gaze. His eyes were glazed over for a moment, an innocent peaking on them as he looked up at you with intent.

“Yes my princess, my Y/n?”

“Yours?”

The skin slapping, volume of each time your ass landed on his hips was increasing, but no matter the crescendo, it was never loud enough to get in the way of the intimate looks the two of you had a silent agreement to fixate on.

“Mine,” he moaned, hands snaking back down to your hips, breaking this distance and once again guiding the speed of how fast he filled you up, “all mine.”

“You’re so gorgeous,” you mumbled, barely able to talk at this point, “I want you so bad you have no idea.”

“You have me,” he almost chanted, “you have me. I have you. Always.”

Your head rolled back, the intimacy of his words, rather than his cock, bringing you closer to the brink of pleasure. The attractiveness of finally putting his walls down, striking his fear of vulnerability was unmatchable. Even if things didn’t work out with Minho in the future, you knew that deep down, no one else could ever make you feel this way. Minho was a witch, and the spell he was casting on you was something that would be everlasting.

“I love you,” you cried, throwing your head back in somewhat embarrassment, “I love you Minho.”

“I love you too baby fuck,” he grunted, increasing the strength in which he filled your pussy. He couldn’t handle this anymore. Flipping you over, his body hovered, cock pressing your back into the mattress. On his knees, Minho trusted deeper and deeper, your eyes almost cloudy from how good he truly felt inside of you. Another sensuous kiss ensured, the combination of his deep moans and your vibrating whines slipped into each other 's, easily one of the most intimate things that could ever be done.

“Mhhm,: You whined, breaking away and placing a hand on his face, “I fucking love you.”

“I fucking love you, my Y/n.”

“Oh god,” you breathe heavily, free hand gripping on his shoulder, “I love when you call me that?”

“What? My Y/n?”

“Yes,” you hissed, piercing into his eyes, this time with vigor, “it makes me yearn for you.”

“You have me baby,” he smirked, eyebrows soon furrowing as he realized his hips were getting sloppy in motion, “I’m all yours.”

You could not stop kissing him. He was just too hard to resist. His words, actions, everything, you were so in love that your chest began to hurt. That pit was developing again, and all he had to do was say the words and you were there. Minho took your hand away from his face, pinning them on either side of you as he slid his fingers in between, allowing your hand to intertwine with yours. The affection was the icing on your cake, because as you felt the swirls of his finger prints trickle onto your palm, your hips were spasming.

“Minho I’m-”

“I know baby, it’s okay, he cooed, “I can feel your pussy clenching hard.”

A little giggle escaped your lips as your body raked itself of an orgasm. Back arching, the loudest noise you could have possibly made erupted from your mouth, the unintentionally new angle allowing Minho to plunge even deeper, keeping it slow as he allowed you to come down from the high. He pulled out right after, pumping himself a few times before finishing just above your core. He fell to your side, immediately lifting your body, wanting to feel that constant warmth as he placed your head against his chest, arms wrapped around your back as he kissed the mount of hair in front of his face. His heartbeat was warm, fast, but stil, a sense of comfort felt over your body as you listened to the organ pump in his chest. The moment was silent, yet comfortable, the both of you simultaneously soaking in that delicacy of affection that you both oh so craved, longed for.

Even after all of that, you still had the energy to do so. Minho read your mind, giving you a quick peck before quickly pacing out of the room. The ache in your heart had already reappeared at his absence. The craving would never stop. Luckily he was quick, grabbing a paper towel, cleaning you up, running back to the bin, the running back and jumping onto the bed, your body flying in the air as he caught you, snuggling up to your side with his head pressed into your chest. Your hand came to his hair, letting those fingertips frolic across his scalp. A silence fell over the room as the two of you simultaneously stared at the ceiling, the dim shine of the moonlight shining through the window, lingering across Minho’s side profile.

“I was being serious, you know.”

“About what?”

“Hating you.”

Minho turned onto his chest, wanting to make sure that you were staring at him when he said this.

“I could never hate you Y/N, my Y/N.”

He crawled up to your side, tall enough to press one more kiss, lips lingering across yours as your eyes fluttered shut from his touch. Lifting the cover, Minho invites you under after climbing in first, turning to the side to hover over your now very tired frame. Lips nudged behind your warm Minho kept mumbling, a combination of kissing you and whispering, the tiny vibrations from his voice tickling the bare skin.

“You’ll have to kill more before I ever let you go.”

2K notes · View notes

revehae · 3 months

Text

hurts so good (1)

pairing ↠ jeno x you x mark

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, unprotected sex, degradation, slapping, impact play, cheating

summary ↠ mark is too gentle for you in bed and when you share this problem with a mutual friend, jeno, he's more than willing to help you get off.

wc ↠ 4.2k

a/n ↠ this part one of a repost! i love this fic and it would be a sin to not share it with the world again. also i kinda love this banner… mark’s looking off to the side; jeno looks straight into the camera. it’s perfect

don’t like it, don’t read.

no matter how much you knew you loved mark, you couldn’t shake the itch you had.

an itch that needed scratching. which he was not very good at doing.

mark kissed his way down your belly, trailing a gentle column of pecks to your thighs. you resisted a frown that desperately wanted to cling to your lips. for the past couple of weeks, your boyfriend had been attempting to initiate sex with you, but every time up until now, you had turned him down.

it wasn’t that you weren’t sexually attracted to mark or anything like that. first of all, you dumbfounded by how fine your boyfriend was. unbeknownst to him, every now and then, you would touch yourself to thoughts of him and mental images of his handsome little face.

the problem was that those fantasies tended to get you off harder than he did.

“you’re so pretty,” mark murmured, running a hand through your folds. you were wet - because your body couldn’t deny wanting him, much less when he put his hands on you - though not nearly as wet as you could have been.

mark didn’t need to know that. in fact, the only reason you had agreed to letting him fuck you now was because you didn’t want him to assume that you were cheating and had found more than adequate loving elsewhere (not that you had just yet). and maybe you were also a little sexually frustrated and you knew this was the closest to release you would get without actually seeking out another partner. mark was the love of your life and you never wanted to break his heart like that, so half the time you sucked it up and closed your eyes.

the sex was good. you would never deny that. but good wasn’t good enough.

mark dipped his head between your thighs, now starting to lap at your cunt which guaranteed a mind-blowing orgasm, and you let him have his way with you for a while.

one time, you told mark that you and a group of friends were competitively abstaining from having sex and foreplay was the sole thing that wasn’t strictly forbidden. for insurance, you convinced rosé and her boyfriend jaehyun to vouch for you. you and mark spent the week blowing each other and to this day nothing mark did got you off as hard as it did when he ate you out.

but after a while, you tugged mark’s hair, purring, “fuck me.”

mark pulled back, a little baffled. he liked eating you out. he noticed that it made you cum harder. “i haven’t prepared you yet. i don’t wanna hurt you.”

that’s the problem, you thought, miffed. “it’s okay. i can take it, baby.”

“are you sure?” mark’s brows were furrowed. it was cute. you also liked the way his brows furrowed when he was balls deep inside you.

“mm-hm. fuck me, please.”

mark reluctantly obeyed, because the last thing he wanted was to cause you any pain, but you kept insisting it would be fine. he was the type to always put your pleasure before his own, even if it meant ignoring how hard his dick throbbed and how desperately he needed to fuck you, because he loved you and you were his world. it was appreciated on your end, that was no doubt, but a bit of a nuisance.

with mark hovering above you now, you gripped his shoulders, biting your lip when he at last penetrated you. mark was slow and steady, at least when he first started fucking you, taking his sweet time to push every inch inside you. tears stung your eyes. there was a slight burn to his every thrust, and his steady pace prolonged the pain, but you were in love with it. plus your boyfriend leaned a little towards the girthy side.

mark noticed your tears instantly and ground to a halt. “does it hurt?”

“no,” you lied, because you didn’t need him to worry his pretty little ass off. “feels good, markie. keep going.”

you gave a kiss of reassurance to his neck and that was all mark needed to pick back up where he left off, pushing in deeper with every thrust until he was completely swallowed by you. the whole time, mark was still kissing you, as if he was trying to take your mind off it. you wished he wasn’t afraid to be a little bit rougher with you. come to think of it, there wasn’t a single time where mark had ever hurt you on purpose - not even a smack to your ass or slap to your thigh.

it made you feel guilty knowing your boyfriend was only being the caring gentleman that you had fallen for, but you couldn’t help what turned you on. you liked when he underestimated his strength, handling you a little bit harder than intended, or when he came and absent-mindedly gripped your hips like a vice, knuckles white and his hold tight enough to bruise. mark would apologize over and over, insisting he didn’t intend to, but you never complained. you liked to see the little bruises in the mirror or catch glimpses of them throughout the day.

at one point, mark picked up his pace, slapping his hips into yours with a rhythm. “harder,” you told him, wanting him to break you. “i can take it.”

mark did as told, though not without gently kissing your lips and telling you how beautiful you were. to mark, it was always a sight to see you like this. he was so proud to call you his. he was in love with how you sucked him in, how tight you were, but most importantly, he was in love with you and hoped his body would convey that during sex.

you moaned at how deep he was, closing your eyes and tuning him out. what would it take for him to break you - to fuck you like he hated you?

“almost there, baby,” mark groaned a little later, bringing his hands to your clit because he knew your body intimately and that was his saving grace.

“cum inside,” you whimpered, imagining him making threats of getting you pregnant. you could hear his voice in your head. that, combined with the drive of hips into yours, was the force pushing you towards the end.

mark kept pounding you out, becoming less and less steady. it was a telltale sign of him being close to release. your pleas for him to come inside you only made it worse, because the thought was at the front of his mind and he desperately needed to fill you to your utter capacity.

you needed him to cum inside you so badly. mark was groaning and grunting, unraveling before your eyes. at last he emptied his load into you, hips still rocking into yours until he reached the last of his high. you moaned at the feeling of him filling you to the brim, his fingers digging into your hips harshly.

mark, now returning to earth, glanced at you and frowned. “you didn’t cum.”

“i did.”

“don’t lie to me. that’s the worst thing you can do.”

you frowned.

mark crept closer, running a finger over your cheek. he wanted absolute eye contact. “what am i doing wrong?”

“it’s not you, baby. i promise,” you sighed, running your fingers through his hair. “it’s me. i liked it. i’m just a little hard to please.”

mark retorted sharply, “and what does it mean if i can’t please you?”

“you do a very good job at pleasing me, mark. i told you, it feels good when you’re in me. don’t overthink it,” you told him sweetly. in all honesty, it wasn’t far from the truth. mark hit you in all the right places. there was just something missing.

mark leaned into your neck and murmured, “are you sure?”

“yes. so don’t worry your pretty little head.”

“okay,” mark huffed and moved his head to your chest.

two weeks later, you found yourself at jeno’s place. he was a mutual friend of you and mark and somebody you were both very close with. you had come over to drop off a plate of strawberry tiramisu per mark’s request but, as to be expected, got tangled in conversation.

jeno, curious as ever, asked, “speaking of mark, what’s going on with you and my boy?”

you furrowed your brows. “what do you mean?”

“he’s in one of those ‘my-girl-hates-me’ moods again. i thought you guys had gotten into an argument or something, but he won’t tell me, and since he’s so down in his spirits i just left it alone,” jeno said with a shrug.

you bit your lip. you had two options. you could either keep what happens with you and mark between you and mark, or you could open up a little. jeno was a trustworthy guy and friend, and thus you were more inclined to be honest with him. “we’ve hit a wall lately,” you said vaguely.

“as in?”

“as in the sex is very… how do i put this… we’re not having sex very often,” you explained, clearing your throat.

that clearly got jeno’s attention. “don’t tell me mark’s game is declining.”

“no, it’s not mark. the sex is good. it’s just...,” you chewed over your words, unsure of how to put it in a way that could rationalize how you felt. without coming off completely insane. “he’s too gentle,” you whispered.

to your surprise, jeno didn’t look at you like you had fifty heads. he actually seemed amused. jeno cocked his head, a smiling tugging at his lips, and asked, “and you like it rough?”

you nodded. to say the least.

“have you communicated that with him?”

“i mean, no. but i have my reasons. how am i supposed to go up to him and tell him the reason i’m not cumming is because he’s not fucking me within an inch of my life?”

jeno chuckled. “my boy is a softie when in love,” he said.

exasperated, you leaned your head against jeno’s shoulder and groaned, “exactly. and i feel like an idiot for complaining about that of all things. he’s literally doing everything right. even if i did tell him, i seriously don’t even think he’s capable of hurting me on purpose.”

“i mean, how rough do you like it?” jeno’s question didn’t strike you as anything but an attempt to be helpful. “do you like getting spanked?”

“yes,” you said frankly.

“slapped?”

“yes.”

“hair pulling?”

“that’s the least extreme think i like.”

“flogging?”

“okay, now you’re crossing a line,” you said. that was a bit too extreme.

jeno threw up his hands. “hey, you’re the freak, not me.”

you frowned. you were thinking about mark again. he was the perfect boyfriend. maybe you should’ve let him go so he could find somebody that could appreciate him and all his efforts to show his girlfriend love, but you were too selfish for that. you threw jeno a glance. “do you think i’m crazy?”

jeno shook his head. “no, i think there’s a line between pain and pleasure. for some of us it’s thinner than it is for others. for some of us it’s larger,” he said, a little more sober than you expected.

which made you think. it wasn’t very often that you ranted about your life problems to jeno, though whenever you did, he always proved himself to be a good listener and good at giving you sound advice (no matter how inconsequential your problems might’ve seemed).

then, your attention flitted elsewhere, eyes at his bulging biceps. you were too in your head to really notice that he had his arm around you, and mark surely didn’t send you over here to snuggle with his best friend. you didn’t fail to notice that jeno was muscular because you weren’t blind and he made no attempt to hide it, the opposite rather, always proudly flaunting his physique. but this was the first time you were having thoughts that you probably shouldn’t.

you called, “jeno?”

“hm?”

“do you think mark would encourage me to seek out somebody else if he couldn’t fulfill my needs, or would he want to work through it?”

now that was the million dollar question. on the one hand, your question was not lost on jeno and he saw dead through you. you had been less than discreetly checking him out. but on the other, you were mark’s girl and it was the proper thing to do to give you an honest response. “both,” jeno told you, honest as could be. “because he wants you to be happy more than anything, but i know the second he let a pretty little thing like you go, he would lose his mind.”

your cheeks got warm. jeno just called me pretty, you thought. then, you instantly chided yourself. mark called you pretty too. and you liked it. the only reason you were getting excited because of jeno doing it was because there was a chance he could be the one to satisfy those cravings lurking inside you.

jeno cocked his head. “do you want me to help you?”

“help me how?”

“with that problem of yours,” he said, amused that you were playing dumb. as if you weren’t giving him those eyes only a moment ago. “girls always tell me i’m the right amount of rough.”

you gawked. “are you offering to have sex with me?”

jeno shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant. to be honest, he had wanted you for a while now, but again, you were mark’s girl. “somebody’s gotta do it. i wouldn’t mind.”

you hated that you were actually considering it. your thighs tingled with excitement, wanting it more than anything. but your boyfriend never once left your mind. “what about mark?”

“he’ll be glad it’s just me instead of somebody else,” jeno said confidently.

“you say that like mark himself told you that.”

jeno shrugged again. “it’s a yes or a no, princess.”

you mulled it over. this was a very, very stupid idea. and an egregious mistake in the making. but when you were thinking with your pussy instead of your head, all rational thoughts were completely off the table.

“yes,” you said, your better judgement clouded.

jeno smirked, satisfied with your answer. and lifted you into his burly arms, ignoring how you cried out in surprise while he carried you to his bedroom. you had no time to recover before he threw you against his mattress, wasting no time to climb on top of you and pull at your clothes with a vengeance. and you let him, because you were inclined to let jeno do whatever he wanted to you right now.

forget the consequences. you would worry about that part later.

you heard fabric tear and gawked in surprise when you realized jeno had torn your underwear off, sitting up to look at him, only to be roughly forced down your back again. he leaned directly over you, searching your face with fire smoldering in his sharp eyes. “i’m not mark. you’re not going to have your way with me. you’re going to lie down and take what i give you,” he hissed, voice low but clear as ever.

all you could do was nod. the words were sucked out of you. your throat had gone dry. and your muscles were painfully stiff. for now.

satisfied, jeno crept back down your body, positioning himself between your thighs. he ran his fingers over your folds and chuckled. you were already so wet from nothing at all. he didn’t intend to prep you very much, but pushed his fingers in and out of your pussy merely to feel how tight it wrapped around them. you impatiently whimpered out his name, clearly needy, and earned yourself a solid slap to the cunt.

you immediately squeezed your thighs back together, letting out another, more agonized noise, but jeno yanked them back apart just as quickly and your strength was no match for his, keeping your legs spread even as he smacked you a second time.

“jeno,” you whimpered again, tears bundling together in your lashes. you had chosen a godawful day to wear mascara.

jeno was completely unfazed, opening his bedside drawer to rummage around for a condom and held it up, cocking his brow at you. “condom or no condom?”

“are you clean?”

“yep,” said jeno. “i got tested a couple of weeks ago.”

“then, please fuck me raw,” you begged, throbbing at the thought. even when mark came inside you, you almost found it better than the sex itself.

jeno tossed the condom to the side with a chuckle and stepped out of his boxers, which made your jaw slacken. you had seen the imprint of his dick only moments prior and had tried your best to pretend like it didn’t bother you, but the sight of his hard cock standing tall against his stomach was enough to make you cry. jeno cocked his brow at you again, snickering to himself, and lined himself up at your entrance.

the wind was knocked out of you. good god he’s packing.

you sucked in a breath when jeno forced his way inside you, tears rolling down your cheeks at how much he stretched you out. you couldn’t even take all of it at once, but jeno would make you, ignoring the whimpers you cried as he stuffed you to the hilt. his brows scrunched together, fingers clawing into your hips to anchor himself with how deep he was inside you, and you swallowed every deliciously guttural sound that left his lips.

then, jeno had a brief lull of indecision, and pulled back out to roughly flip you over, just to penetrate you again just as quickly once you scrambled on your hands and knees. “fuck,” you whined, filling once more a surreal fusion of pain and pleasure.

jeno had told you there was a thin line between pain and pleasure. and as far as you were concerned, he had never been more right.

jeno, hands at your hips, asked huskily, “does it hurt?”

you bobbed your head, unable to stop the flow of tears. but i love it, you added in your head.

jeno was satisfied. “good,” he replied smugly.

never had you felt so full. you could feel him in the pit of your stomach and it was driving you mad. jeno had no intention of letting you adjust to his size either, already brutally smacking his hips against yours with a vengeance.

you let out a noise when jeno gripped your jaw, abruptly lifting up your tear-stained face. “look at yourself,” he growled, forcing you to look into the mirror across from his bed. no wonder he made you change positions. “shame you ruined all that pretty makeup with those tears.”

you looked a damn mess and it didn’t help that you had jeno rutting into you from behind, making you lose any and all sense of order you still had. jeno loved how helpless you looked. all you could do was lie there and take it, and you could barely even do that. when you tried to look away, he forced your face back where he wanted it, chin between his fingers, and said darkly, “i don’t like to repeat myself. look at yourself. i want you to watch yourself get fucked by your boyfriend’s friend because you can’t get off to being fucked normally.”

that made your walls clamp around him, and consequently a deep howl escaped jeno. it was criminal how sexy he sounded, and the more you pleasured him, the rougher his hands got on your body. you could already feel the bruises at your hips that would probably take weeks to completely fade.

a certain sharp thrust made you whimper and hang your head, singing out his name. jeno slapped your cheek and the sting went straight to your cunt, making you clench around him. you brought your head back to the mirror, remembering you were supposed to be watching yourself, though you were tempted to glance off just so that he would hit you again.

jeno shook his head when he felt you clench around him, chuckling to himself. he smacked his palm against your face again for amusement, just to see you soak in the pain. “you’re so pathetic, you know that?” he asked, followed by a laugh. “need to get roughed up to get off?”

you whined, “please…”

“please what?” jeno asked, in spite of knowing damn well what you wanted. but he wanted to hear you say it. he wanted you to hear how pathetic you sounded.

you bit your lip. was he really going to make you say it? “please hit me,” you whispered.

jeno hummed, furrowing his brows in mock confusion. “kiss you?”

you shook your head and cried, “jeno, please hit me again.”

satisfied, jeno gripped your jaw in his fingers to keep it in place as he forced you to look in the mirror, then slapped your cheeks a couple of times. “is that hard enough for you, baby?”

“harder,” you whimpered.

jeno laughed.

jeno kept hitting you and throwing you around, whispering the cruelest of words in your ear and telling you how disgusting you were for liking getting roughed up. it should have humiliated you, but it also brought you closer to climax in record time.

jeno wasn’t far behind you, because you kept tightening around him every every degrading word and violent touch, and it drove him mad with lust. not a single part of him was worried about mark right now, and from the looks of it, you had forgotten about your boyfriend too, completely absorbed in how jeno was hitting you in all the right places. literally.

face to face with climax, jeno gripped your hair, pulling it back. you whined, but jeno merely nibbled at your ear before saying, “i’m gonna cum in this tight little pussy and you’re gonna take every drop.”

“yes, please,” you replied, not opposed at all. “fill me up, jeno. please.”

“fuck,” jeno groaned, slapping his hips into yours even harsher. you were so fucking perfect that he was tempted to steal you from mark and make you his bitch. and he might have already done that without even trying.

with a couple more hits, you were unraveling around jeno and it triggered his own orgasm. he came inside you with a grunt and leaned over you to clamp his teeth into your shoulder, trying to smother his own sounds. you, on the other hand, couldn’t control the noises that left you, moaning and shaking harder than ever as your climax got the best of you.

jeno pulled out, sated, and watched you crumble on his sheets, chest heaving. “good?” he asked.

you nodded, still trying to catch your breath. and clear your mind. “yeah,” you croaked, blinking. “thank you.”

jeno snickered. “any time. i can tell you needed it.”

damn right, you thought.

you cleaned yourself up and as if nothing had happened, jeno thanked you for the tiramisu before you headed home to mark. before you got in the car, you grabbed your phone to let him know you were on the way back, and were thrown for a loop when you saw what time it was, plus the missed texts you had from your boyfriend. you had completely loss track of time.

when you stepped inside the house, mark was in the living room watching the amazing spider-man 2, and immediately turned around when he heard the door unlocking. “babe,” he said, leaping up to hug you. “i missed you.”

“i wasn’t gone that long,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around your boy. he felt safe. “but i missed you too.”

mark never wanted to let you go, and he didn’t, but there was a little frown on his face when he murmured into your neck, “you smell like jeno.”

you swallowed. “well, i was at jeno’s house. where jeno lives.”

“you were there for a while.”

“yeah, well,” you started, guilt suddenly blindsiding you. “you know how jeno is. can never say hi and bye and be done. he always has to start a conversation.”

“sounds like him,” mark said, nodding. “did he at least like the tiramisu?”

“of course he did. he’s jeno.”

mark chuckled. “wanna watch gwen stacy die for the billionth time with me?”

you frowned. “only if we watch andrew save tom’s mj right after,” you replied.

“deal.”

the two of you ran to the couch, and you pushed your guilt to the back of your heart as you snuggled in your boyfriend’s arms, trying desperately to forget what you just did to him.

“babe, i’m gonna go make us some popcorn,” mark said, slowly backing away from you.

you sent him off with a nod, smiling and flitting your gaze back to the television screen.

in the kitchen, mark opened the pantry and slid his phone from his pockets to open his text messages. how’d it go?

how do you think?

mark rolled his eyes. she’s glowing. what did you do?

it’s not that hard, mark. all you gotta do is slap her around a little.

mark poked out his head, watching you with your eyes fixated to the screen. i’ll keep that in mind, he replied back.

there was no reply and mark’s phone didn’t buzz until the microwave beeped. still on for friday?

you bet.

#nct dream smut #mark lee smut #lee jeno smut #jeno smut #nct dream hard hours #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct hard hours #mark lee scenarios #jeno scenarios #nct x reader #tw: cheating #revehae fics

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rikivrs · 3 days

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enha fic recs !

if any of the authors of the fics below would like for me to take theirs down, please let me know !!

ot7 / multi !

forbidden attraction - hyung line, nsfw !! — by @jungqkook

ot7 reaction to u having an unusual pet (smau) — by @loljaeyunz

random acts ot7 love — by @hoonvrs

songs that remind me of my exes - ot7 (smau) — by @won4ver

no nut november - hyung line (smau) — by @jayflrt

14 questions with enha ot7 — by @jayflrt

enha ot7 as monopoly players — by @jayflrt

heeseung !

a stoner’s guide to starbucks (smau) — by @jayflrt

rent a boyfriend (smau) — by @jayujus

jongseong !

cheerleader — by @jiheon

bf jay texts (smau)

pics i posted on my ig story for my crush to see (smau) — by @boigyu

heartbreaks and sad songs (smau) — by @jaylver

yours forever in 786 (smau) — by @jayflrt

20th century girl (smau) — by @hoonvrs

jaeyun !

hello kitty meets batman (not clickbait!) — by @star-sim

AFTERHOURS (smau) — by @heesbaby

fake it till you make it (smau) — by @lololololchips

starboy — by @neos127

sunghoon !

taxes and laundry — by @sjyluv

kiki the cat — by @jiheon

pics i posted on my ig story for my crush to see (smau) — by @boigyu

fuck christmas! (smau) — by @jayflrt

i would give up heaven if i had to — by @bokkura

reunited — by @jayflrt

bloodlust — by @jayflrt

against the world — by @jayflrt

sunoo !

pics i posted on my ig story for my crush to see (smau) — by @boigyu

jungwon !

ghost roomies (smau) — by @blisym

ghost roomies pt 2 (smau) — by @blisym

pics i posted on my ig story for my crush to see (smau) — by @boigyu

riki !

pika pika (smau) — by @sincerelyrki

who the hell is ni-ki ? (smau) — by @nwjws

my very first love (smau) — by @envirae

texts w bf!riki (smau) — by @mandukkul

#enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen smut #enhypen smau #enhypen texts #enhypen crack #enhypen reactions #enhypen fic recs #lee heeseung #park jongseong #jay park #sim jaeyun #jake sim #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #nishimura riki #ni-ki

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rookthorne · 3 months

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲

The first day of any new job was always the hardest — all the rules and roles to navigate while establishing yourself as someone reliable, trustworthy, and far too interested in your employer.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ୨୧ DILF!Bucky Barnes x Babysitter!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ୨୧ 8.3k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ୨୧ Swearing, pet names, fluff, slight angst/insecurity, pining, unspecified age gap, Bucky is a shameless flirt and he knows it, extreme sexual tension/implied smut, heated kissing, there is a kid in this fic

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ୨୧ Happy belated birthday, @duckybarnes1917 — I hope you enjoy the torturous collection I came up with just for you, love you long time. 😘 ୨୧ This AU and fic itself have skyrocketed into my personal top 5. I threw my all into this and I am fucking proud of it.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ୨୧ greedy by Tate McRae ୨୧ Like U by Rosenfeld

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ୨୧ @smutconnoisseur — thank you for dealing with my flying by the seat of my pants attitude because oh my god—

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ୨୧ @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ჻჻჻ Babysitting (December), Teasing (January), Single Parent (February) — Masterlist ჻჻჻ Aggressive Flirting (February) — Masterlist ୨୧ @buckybarnesevents Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟯 — DILF AU — Masterlist ୨୧ @mcukinkbingo 𝗜𝟱 — Mistaken for a couple — Masterlist ୨୧ @anyfandomfluffbingo 𝗚𝟮 — First Kiss — Masterlist ୨୧ @sweetspicybingo Sweetheart Bingo — Cloud Nine — Masterlist

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The advertisement was like any other — a father looking for a babysitter to watch over his little girl while he worked, and from what you could gather, the father worked a prestigious job that took up a substantial amount of time when he had to visit the office.

A sweet little girl that adored princesses and coloured her days away, if her description was anything to be believed, and you applied for the position straight away, not wasting a moment before you sent all of your credentials through. It seemed a perfect fit.

To your shock (and relief), you heard back from your new employer within the hour.

James Barnes, a leading engineer in his field of cutting-edge prosthetics, called you in the next half hour, voice deep and honeyed with a hidden sense of cunning curiosity. The conversation was brief before he invited you over for a drink — of your choice, “You can have whatever you want, doll, I don’t mind,” he purred after you stuttered a shocked, nonsensical reply.

It was intoxicating, the sound of his voice lulling into fantasies that your majorly unhelpful mind conjured after that encounter. The memory was barely definable through your lust fuelled recollections of your shared drinks.

Over time, after spending time with the both of them, it took all of your willpower to not be lulled towards the forbidden curiosities you held for your new employer. He was enigmatic, playful, curious, and lethally charming with a smile to match — one that danced in your daydreams and slumber with far too sinful results.

The rapport with your new charge came over easy, a blessed relief that instilled a confidence in you; a job that would both be a smooth and interesting challenge, sans complications of a tantruming child.

James, however, quickly made it his mission to fluster you at every turn: asking you about your day and praising you for the smallest, littlest things, to bringing you home flowers and treats when he walked in the door to greet you.

It never failed to make heat creep up your neck, and never failed to land elsewhere.

You were no stranger to attraction, but James was something else — a broad, older man, single father to a little girl, incredibly handsome and intelligent, and far too suave for his own good. Just the thought of his attention made you feel giddy with the rush of endorphins.

One particular video call stuck in your mind to this day, a loop of his voice and soft, enamoured expression on repeat. Both of you were discussing the particular habits of his little girl: how she loved certain movies and detested others, where she loved to have her meals and with what plush teddies and dolls had to sit with her, and so on, so forth.

It was heartwarming to bear witness how much he adored his daughter, a clear example of love and devotion you’d only seen in very few circumstances.

“She doesn’t mind having other movies,” James said, and the camera panned to the little girl happily playing with her dolls. “It’s just– She will pout and whine if she doesn’t get, y’know, that movie.”

You chuckled and noted it down on a piece of paper. “And we’re not saying the name of that movie because–?”

The phone’s camera flipped back to show James’ fearful expression, wide, bright eyes staring directly into the screen and through to your soul. “It’s because I don’t want a riot in my living room,” he said carefully, around your laughter — you couldn’t help it, he was too dramatic. “Besides, I would rather spend my time talking to my pretty Fawn.”

The use of the pet name he reserved for only you made you splutter and hide — tilting the camera to the ceiling as you bit your lip hard enough for it to almost bleed. “Aw, come back,” James teased, “I was enjoying seeing your face—not the damned ceiling.”

You were sure it was some kind of sin for how often that comment played in your mind during the late hours of the night, but you couldn’t help it.

In such a short span of time, you fell hard for your boss, the father of your charge, and it was a hell of a forbidden rush to think of him in such a way — above you, pinning you to the surface while he fucked you deep, hard, and fast. The deep, animalistic grunts that would fall from his lips, or the praises he’d sing of how tight you were for him.

Not to mention, the way his deep, chocolate brown hair would fall from his shoulders to hang between your bodies, the ends of it tickling your skin when he would pull out; only to thrust hard back into your cunt with a wrecked, gravelly moan.

The clatter of your fork on your plate made you jump a mile high, and you came back to reality with a crash to find the sun casting its bright rays over the breakfast nook in your apartment. “Fuck, fuck,” you muttered, shaking your head to clear the heated images while your thighs clenched traitorously at the visual and auditory vision. “Goddammit.”

What lay ahead, however, made the burning thoughts turn to butterflies in your stomach. Today was the day, your first real test: a full day packed to the brim with activities you planned that would suit the young, imaginative mind you no doubt believed the girl to have, given who her father was.

A loud chime sounded next to you, and you gasped in fright. “Shit!” you cursed, and you scrambled to grab your phone.

Speaking of the devil; James’ name flashed at the bottom of your screen, and you read the text with an unparalleled eagerness.

She just woke up and she’s already screaming about her new friend visiting today. We’re excited to see you, Fawn.

Attached to the text was a picture of the little girl you affectionately called Starlet. She was holding a drawing up to the camera that had no doubt been hastily created — it was you, James, and her holding hands. The movement she artistically captured led you to assume the three of you were dancing in front of the giant, scribbled rainbow in the background.

Tears welled in your eyes at the soft warmth that bloomed in your chest — only having had prominently video calls with her, she already considered you a friend.

Memories pulled at your mind again, and you thought back to the time you received a video call from Starlet one evening — it was just starting to grow dark when your phone chimed, and you answered it without a second thought after seeing your employer’s name on the screen. “Hello?”

A bright, smiling face stared at you through the screen.

“Oh, hello, honey!” you said happily. “What are you up to?” Then you remembered that she was a crafty, cunning little girl. With a sterner tone, you pressed on in the interrogation, “Where’s your dad—have you taken his phone again?”

“No, I’m here, Fawn,” James called distantly, and he laughed. “Starlet wanted to say hello—I’m just cooking dinner, you don’t mind, do you? Are we keeping you from something?”

“Nope.” The cushions against your back suddenly became very comfortable, now that you had company of your favourite two people. “Tell me about your day, sweetheart,” you asked of Starlet, and the little girl flew into an explanation that lasted one whole hour.

It was only when James took his phone back did you have a moment to catch your reeling mind, only for it to start spinning at the sight of his broad, handsome smile.

The phone in your hand buzzed once more, pulling you from the reverie. James sent another message asking if you would bring more of a specific set of gel pens — Starlet had taken to them and never quieted down about how sparkly they were.

A giggle escaped from your lips in the quiet of your home, and your thumbs flew over the keyboard to type back: Sure can. I can’t wait to see you guys, I’ll be there soon!

“Okay,” you said to yourself, picking up your plate of now stone-cold breakfast. “Let’s do this.”

You ignored the heavy weight of the secret bearing down on your mind as you padded down the hallway to your bedroom; how wrong it was to fall for your damned employer and harbour the lust over him, but you couldn’t help but revel in the thrill of it.

After dressing comfortably, you made sure to grab an extra set of gel pens for the princess that awaited you before you walked out the door, locking it behind you.

The journey to James’ home was thankfully uneventful, and you pulled up to where your directions led.

Your mouth fell slack with shock at what you found awaiting you.

The driveway to James’ home was sprawling in the length and design. Flowering hedges lined either side of the luxuriously paved road, and there was a water feature — a water feature, you thought incredulously, placed dead centre in front of a set of stairs that led to a massive, windowed, double set of doors.

“No wonder the pay was that high, he’s rich.” Your car travelled silently up the way while you took in the opulence of your new surroundings.

To the left of the stairway leading to the front door, was an empty space next to a fancy SUV. “I hope that’s for me,” you mumbled, and you parked your car while sure to leave space between the vehicles. The handbrake creaked and the engine shut off with a shudder, the sound of it made you grimace. “I have to get this checked; sooner rather than later.”

With no time to pause and consider your misfortune with vehicles, you slid out of the driver’s seat and popped the trunk to fetch the bag of delightful craft supplies you readied for Starlet. Through your raging nerves, you managed to hum a song quietly as you placed the strap over your shoulder.

The sole of your shoes padded over the pavement of the driveway, and the mansion that loomed ahead of you in its majesty — the architecture alone made it appear like something from the cover of a magazine.

“Whoa,” you breathed, spinning in place to take it all in. The beauty and aesthetic of the home was unmatched in the tidiness of the landscaping, and the facade of the home highlighted the contrasting use of colours in both the wood and steel that made up the accents. “Holy–”

A squeal of glee cut your admiration short, and one of the double doors of the home flew open to reveal a small girl dashing down the steps, clothed in a typical sparkly, princess dress. “Hi!”

“Oh!” you gasped, stumbling backwards with the force of the child’s hug. “Goodness, hello! You must be the little Starlet, huh?” The comment was teasing — you knew for certain this was your charge, but the girl beamed up at you through her fly-away hair.

“Yeah,” Starlet giggled. Her small arms, decorated in sparkly lace, squeezed you tighter.

A deep voice tinged with the worry only a parent could possess, suddenly called from the stairs. “Starlet! Honey–? Don’t run off on me like that–” They stopped, and you looked up — the breath in your lungs escaped as though you’d been punched in the diaphragm. “Fawn!”

You blinked, unable to form the words that would accurately depict the sight before you.

James was smiling — the very same one that made his eyes crinkle at the sides. The tight, navy blue, rounded collar shirt clung to his chest and shoulders, while black dress pants hugged his thighs.

It was true, you had seen him numerous times via your video calls and once in person, but nothing came close to preparing you for how he would be in the comfort of his own home; how his voice was just as deep, if not deeper, and trickled down your spine with the same heat as molten lava.

Oh, fuck, you thought.

Aloud, you said, “Mr. Barnes!”

James grinned and shook his head. “Fawn, sweetheart—please call me Bucky.” He neared you, his presence overwhelmingly close, and he leaned in for a hug that you nervously returned — all the while praying the hammering beat of your heart couldn’t be heard or felt against his muscled chest. “It’s good to see you again,” he rumbled, pulling away to look you up and down, and his eyes landed on your bag. “I’ll take that for you.”

“Th– Thanks,” you stuttered; the proximity allowed you to stare into his grey-blue eyes, a mix of colours you wished to capture and keep.

Bucky’s hand brushed against yours when he grabbed your bag, but he kept that same, priceless smile on his lips. “We started the princess marathon early, if you couldn’t tell,” he added, looking down at the ball of energy that was his daughter.

You grinned down at the little girl. “I can’t wait—I found so many things we can do, Starlet, and they all involve princesses.”

Starlet took off like a shot towards the front doors and into the house, her screech of glee loud enough to wake the neighbours — Bucky stood next to you wincing, while you rubbed your ear that was closest to the front door. The ringing only died down slightly.

“Oh, boy,” you muttered, “Someone’s a bit excited.”

Bucky laughed. The sound rich and something you terribly needed to hear again.

You looked at him, taking in his profile while he still stared towards the doorway of his home. The hair that looked almost black on the phone, was a deep, deep brown — where the sun bled through the surrounding trees, it shone a beautiful hazelnut. It was loose down his neck, and his beard was neatly trimmed with only a few grey patches to be seen.

The sign of his age made him all the more attractive — allowing a sense of maturity and allure to his already swoon worthy appearance.

“So,” you hastily started, willing the heat that started to build in your stomach to simmer instead of boil. “You’re off for a full day in the office?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” Bucky replied, and he put a hand on the small of your back to guide you up to his home. “I’ve got back-to-back meetings that I can’t put off any longer, given my associates and their… inability to manifest a sense of patience. And I don’t like taking Starlet if I can help it—she’s such an active girl and she hates sitting in the corner.”

“That’s fair.” The stairs beneath your feet exhumed luxury you felt you couldn’t even stand in the presence of. “Have you been looking for a babysitter for long–?”

Bucky looked at you from the corner of his eyes. “Curious one, aren’t you, Fawn?”

“I–”

“I’m just messing with you, honey,” he said, barely holding back a laugh. “And to answer you, yeah, I have. They all either were too uptight or couldn’t handle how hyperactive Starlet is—‘cause as you may have noticed, she’s a lot–”

“She is not!” You frowned and looked towards the inside of the house where Starlet was no doubt impatiently waiting for your presence. “She’s beautiful and sweet—creative and passionate, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Thanks, honey,” he said softly, earnestly. The smile he gave you made butterflies erupt where there were flames only seconds ago.

Bucky walked you through the threshold of the front door, and you gasped loudly at the interior — it was a brightly lit, open spaced home with only counters and half walls to divide up the rooms, and there were numerous hallways that lead off of the main area. A grand staircase led to the upper floors.

“This is beautiful,” you said breathlessly, awestruck by the beauty. On the upper level, you heard the fast footsteps of a little girl running around, to gather things to show her new friend, you assumed, but what you focused on was Bucky’s prideful expression; a man that was happy and proud of the space he built for his family. “Really, really beautiful, Bucky. Wow.”

“You know how to make a fella feel special, Fawn,” he muttered bashfully with an accent you loved more than would ever admit to. A playful sense of amusement grew as you spotted a dusting of pink over his high cheekbones.

The air crackled with tension as Bucky looked up from the floor and into your eyes.

Before you could open your mouth and say something on instinct, Bucky looked towards the kitchen, then back at you. “Come here.”

He led you into the sprawling kitchen — the size of it far too big to comprehend with counter space akin to a working, industrial kitchen. A ringed index finger pointed to the fridge. “Now, before you go getting any ideas of spoiling Starlet rotten…”

There was a teasing tone to his voice, and it was raised to be loud enough for a certain pair of little ears to hear.

You looked to where he was pointing and saw a whiteboard hanging high on the door. Neat, orderly writing on one side; childish scrawl on the other. It had rules listed in bullet form: no extra chocolate, no extra sugar, in bed by eight…

“As you can see,” Bucky said, still in that raised tone. His eyes wandered to the upstairs loft that was above the kitchen, and you didn’t repress the urge to grin at him. “There are rules to follow, and Starlet agreed to them; do not let her convince you otherwise–”

“But daddy,” a petulant voice whined. You only just managed to stifle your laughter. “She didn’t have to know.”

“Starlet Barnes,” Bucky scolded, and the laughter you worked so hard to bite back almost broke free as he put his hands on his cocked hips, staring up at the loft. Your gaze followed his eye line and you saw the aforementioned troublemaker peering down between the railing, a deep pout on her lips. “You promised me you would behave, honey. Now come down here so I can say goodbye—daddy’s gotta go to work or he’ll be late.”

A loud whine followed Bucky’s words, and he shook his head before he looked at you. “Those are the rules, for her, anyway.”

You blinked. “What–”

The same fast footsteps from before now pelted down the stairs, and Starlet launched herself into Bucky’s arms, giggling as he lifted her small body from the floor and into the air with a grunt. “Are you going to behave for Fawn, honey?” he asked, resting Starlet on his side so her legs swung over his front and back. “You promised me you would, remember?”

Your heart swooped and lodged itself in your throat with the display of paternal affection.

“Yeah, I will,” Starlet replied, her small hands grabbing Bucky’s stubbled cheeks. “Daddy, you need to shave.”

No he does not, you thought privately.

“Thanks,” he replied, and he blew a raspberry on her chubby cheek. “Okay, be on your best behaviour; manners, honey, use them.”

“Mhm,” Starlet hummed. Bucky placed her gently down onto the floor, and her little, sparkled flats made a small click click sound as she walked towards you. “I’ll be good, daddy.”

You offered your hand to hold, and she took it eagerly, swinging your arm back and forth while Bucky grabbed his briefcase and bag. “I’ll be back late tonight, so don’t wait up for me,” he said to you. “Feel free to eat whatever or order in, my card is here–” He shoved a black card from his wallet into your free hand before you could protest. “And– Yeah, I’ll be back.”

“Bye, daddy!” Starlet called, pulling you along behind Bucky — who’s broad shoulders and muscled back was unfairly shown off by the cut of his shirt. “Talk to you later–”

“I promise, honey, I’ll call Fawn and say goodnight.” A dark blazer was pulled from its coat rack, and Bucky shrugged it on before he smoothed the wrinkles in the fabric, quicker than you could offer as you so desperately wanted to. “And in bed by eight, no later, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” You saluted, and the look Bucky shot you made you gulp — pure heat blazed in his eyes, and the flames that licked up your spine you dampened before reignited with a roar. “We– We’ll be good,” you stammered, praying to anyone that would listen above that you could survive the night with that visual at the forefront of your mind.

Bucky smiled and walked back to kiss his daughter on the cheek. Then, to your absolute mix of horror and surprise, he kissed your forehead, too. “My good girls,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on yours. “I’ll talk to you later.”

And the door closed with a finality that left you reeling.

“Can we go colour?” Starlet asked innocently, her bright eyes blinking up at you. “Daddy said he left me the best pencils and you brought pens?”

“Uh– Yeah, yeah—sure, we can go colour, sweetheart,” you said. Focus, you reminded yourself inwardly.

For hours, you spent your time between the set of plush couches in the expansive living room and marathoning movies that ranged from cartoons to the most ridiculous animations, to a small child’s table — colouring with the closest thing you would ever come to spending time with royalty.

Starlet certainly took it in her stride to act like a princess.

“But daddy said I could–”

“Go look at the fridge,” you said, smirking — you knew for a fact that she was attempting to pull the wool over your eyes. A deceptive, little lamb. “Daddy put the rules up there and he said, before he left, that you agreed to them—didn’t you, Starlet?”

Small, pink lips pouted heartily, and she stomped off towards the fridge, her shoes thudding over the floor. “Ugh.”

“Ugh, indeed.”

The night began to wind down a few hours later, and after colouring the whole duration, you decided a movie would be the best course of action to break up the monotony and brewing tantrum in the wriggling girl opposite you.

As a treat, you allowed Starlet to play a movie while she ate — only after she swore to you that she wouldn’t tell Bucky. The ploy worked, for as well as any child loved the idea of a secret, she fell head over heels into the sworn secrecy and happily tucked into her dinner while the princesses on the TV screen sang another rendition of the chorus.

You couldn’t help but watch her from the kitchen counter, where you were tidying away the dishes. It was with curiosity you admired the similarities between Starlet and her father, what you found and discerned during the short time of knowing the pair of them.

Starlet had the same bright eyes, the colour of her irises as beautiful as her father’s with the addition of an irreplaceable hint of childish awe and wonder. Her hair fell in waves; shades of what you could only describe as beautiful in the strands that prominently populated her temples to crown.

A sudden sense of contentment flooded you while you continued to gaze at her. Being invited and accepted into such a space was rewarding.

It was evident that Starlet’s birth mother was no longer in the picture, and you never planned to ask or know more than what you were told, but still, you wondered how Bucky was not snatched up. He was a charming, sweet man that adored his daughter — you would be lying if you didn’t take to heart the imagined scenarios that played over and over in your mind, of what it would be like just to be part of such domestic bliss.

The loud chime of your phone startled you from your thoughts, and you exhaled sharply just as Starlet’s head peered up and over the back of the couch. “Is that daddy?”

You looked down at your phone’s screen, smiling, and said, “Yeah, hang on, I’ll come sit with you and we can talk to him.” The screen flashed with colour as you swiped to accept his video call, and you were greeted with his bright smile.

“Hey, Fawn,” Bucky said happily, though he looked exhausted — the furrow between his brow had deepened in his absence from home. “How are my girls, huh? Behaving, I hope.”

“We’re here, we just finished having dinner,” you said, angling the phone to show a distracted Starlet, sans her plate (that of which had hastily been placed on the coffee table in front of the couch), and then back to you. “Starlet jumped up on the couch with me to say hello.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Is that so? Alright, where’s my little girl?”

Starlet scrambled to sit right beside you, and her happy expression filled the screen while you chuckled. “Daddy!”

“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky cooed, his smile heart-warmingly fond. “Have you had a good day with Fawn?”

“Yeah,” she replied, nodding quickly. “We coloured and then watched movies and coloured more and–”

“A lot of princess duties,” you cut in, and Starlet giggled, her chubby cheeks turning pink with a blush. “We are in the presence of royalty, Sir Barnes.”

“Oh, do forgive me, your highness,” he replied with wide eyes. The camera shook as he moved, and you saw his desk top scattered with papers before the phone settled upright, pointing towards Bucky’s office chair. He bowed deeply — either intentionally, or ignorantly allowing his hair to fall over his face. When he looked up to the screen, loose tendrils of hair covered his forehead and danced over his eyes.

The last reserves of your self-preservation and dignity vanished as you tried to force your heart to not burst free from its new home in your throat — the way his eyes appeared through the slicked strands was an image you would never let escape.

“I humbly request an audience with the Princess.” Bucky neared the camera again, smirking — the bastard knew, you panicked.

Before you could spiral, beside you, Starlet said fiercely, “Of course, Sir Daddy.” She shifted to better look at the screen. “The Princess always has time for uh–”

“King, or knight,” you whispered into her ear.

“Knight!”

“How generous.” Bucky laughed heartily. He sat back in his chair and steepled his hands, showing off the glint of his rings and the generous muscle exposed on his forearms from his rolled-up sleeves. “Ah, my girls,” he sighed, looking into the camera. “I shouldn’t be too much longer—Uncle Stevie is being a punk–”

“Uncle Steeb!” Starlet squealed.

“Yes, uncle Steeb,” he echoed, and he looked off camera. “Get over here, she wants to see you.”

“Is that my favourite niece?” A second voice called, the volume increasing as they neared the desk. Starlet was positively vibrating out of her seat with excitement.

“Well, well, well,” they said, and suddenly, another handsome face came into view. He had blond hair that was slicked back, and his beard was neatly trimmed — deep, blue eyes glanced between you and Starlet with interest. “It is—hey, Bug!”

“Uncle Steeb! Uncle Steeb!” Starlet launched herself at the phone to hug the device to her chest and toppled it from your grip. “Oh– I sorry–”

“Don’t you worry, honey,” you soothed, and you ruffled her hair. “Just be careful, okay? Hang on, let’s pick this up–” The phone had thankfully been undamaged in the fall, and you smiled at the two men staring up at you with concern.

“You two okay?” Bucky asked — he was poised as though to run at a seconds notice.

“Yeah, all is good,” you replied, settling back on the couch. “Here you are, sweetie.”

Starlet held the phone as though it was a priceless jewel, and she spoke to her father and apparent uncle with such vigour it was as though she hadn’t seen them in weeks, rather than just a day. The topics broached what the princesses in the movie did, to what she coloured — it was an endless tirade of excitement that only made you smile as you watched on.

Soon enough, she started to yawn, though she tried to minimise and hide them. A father’s keen eye was not to be underestimated, however. “Baby, I think you better get to bed—it is close to eight,” Bucky said softly.

You glanced at the top of your phone’s screen to check the time for yourself, and you blinked — it was only seven when he first called.

“I’ll be home soon, and I will come and kiss you goodnight, okay? Fawn can put you to bed; she’s pretty good at bedtime stories, I hear.”

She looked up at you through glazed eyes. “You are?”

“I am,” you confirmed with a proud nod. “Why don’t you say goodnight to daddy now and we can get you set up and comfy in bed?”

“‘Kay,” Starlet mumbled sleepily. “G’night, daddy. I love you.”

Bucky smiled. “I love you, too, baby. I’ll come give you a kiss when I get home, I promise.”

You ended the call with a promise to do your best impression of the characters for Bucky, and beside you, Starlet sighed happily. “I love daddy; I love uncle Steeb.”

“I see that,” you chuckled quietly. “Now, c’mon, up you get—bedtime for her highness.”

It turned out to be a smooth, tantrum-free process, readying Starlet for sleep — she followed your guidance to a tee and had the independence to fit her title when it came time to pick out her favourite pyjamas.

She settled into the cocoon of blankets and plush toys that took up more room than her own small self on her bed, and you smiled down at her as you sat on the edge. Her small hand in yours made your heart leap.

There was a strange glint in her eye when she uttered your name sleepily. You raised a brow in curiosity. “Yes, honey?”

“Are you daddy’s friend?”

“Yes,” you said honestly, smiling. “Your daddy is a kind, thoughtful man. I am happy to be his friend—why do you ask, sweetheart?”

“I–” She swallowed and furrowed her small brows. “He told me one time that there are special friends, and I– I–”

“Oh, Starlet– No, no honey,” you rushed, desperately smothering the rising panic in your chest at her implementation — the curious nature of a child was never to be scolded, but you did not think you could stomach this conversation, not on the first damned night of being under his employment. “I work for your daddy, and my job is to look after you when he can’t, okay? That doesn’t mean I am, uh– A special friend of your daddy’s.”

As much as I wish to be, you whined internally — though saying that aloud would be catastrophic, you had no doubt about that. Focus.

“Oh.” That same thoughtful gleam returned in her eyes, and you braced for another round of interrogation — as intimidating as a child’s questions could be. “Well, I think you would be a nice special friend for daddy. He smiles a lot when he sees you.”

It was your turn to be absolutely dumbfounded. Words failed and escaped you; scattering to the winds, never to be seen again, while Starlet did nothing but stare up at you innocently, a soft smile pulling at her lips.

“Uh– Ha, well.” You coughed and leaned back a little, willing your mind to connect back with an acceptable train of thought. “Um– Thank you, thank you for that, sweetheart. That’s very sweet of you.”

Starlet beamed, brighter than the stars above. “You’re welcome.”

When she finally dozed off to sleep after your indulgent tale of Rapunzel, you padded ever so quietly from her bedroom and carefully closed the door with a soft click behind you.

You only made it a few steps towards the staircase before you had to stop and think — the dull thump of your back and shoulders hitting the wall made you grimace and look to Starlet’s door, though she did not rouse.

“Oh my fucking god,” you rasped, rubbing your face with your hands, distorting the sound of your distress. “Goddammit all, ugh.”

Desperation and pure want clawed at your insides, savaging your attempts to control your impulses; the need for Bucky’s attention blew out of proportion tenfold with the words from his daughter.

Carefully, you tiptoed down the stairs, one by one, until you stood in the kitchen.

“He smiles—he smiles when he talks about me,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. The quiet sound of your feet padding over the tile grew in volume while you paced back and forth. “Bucky smiles—oh fucking hell.”

A war raged in your mind, split equal sides by morality and need; one side dead set on preventing you from making a fool of yourself, the other hell bent on allowing you in the indulgence of recklessness.

The possibility of it all not backfiring upon you was slim at best, but something nagged– No, pulled at your thoughts: what if Bucky felt the same?

“No, no,” you said aloud, grimacing. “That’s not possible—I can’t– He can’t, he’s older, successful–”

Your tirade was interrupted by a sudden beep from the security panel by the front door. “Front gate opened.”

“Shit.” You rushed to the front door and peered through the frosted glass. The fancy SUV that was parked next to your car before pulled into the driveway, headlights on and engine purring.

A heavy exhale of relief fell from your lips, and you resolutely decided to push the dilemma of his affection to the side; a project for the back burner that was your ever running mind.

The SUV parked and fell silent, the headlights and taillights dimming, and you turned back around towards the kitchen to heat up two plates of dinner in the oven — silently thanking your decision to make extra.

Footsteps sounded by the front door, and it swung open, not even creaking. “Fawn?” Bucky called quietly, his voice lowered so as to not awake Starlet upstairs. “Honey, where are you?”

“Kitchen—getting dinner for us.”

Soft footfalls came from the entryway and towards the kitchen, when Bucky rounded the corner. You smiled at him, which he returned tiredly. “Hey, how was Starlet? You okay?”

“She was great, we had fun, and she was sweet. I learned that Rapunzel is far superior over Sleeping Beauty, but nothing, of course, beats her ultimate favourite.” The oven behind you beeped, and you turned to open it and fetch the dish of food, but Bucky put a hand on your elbow and gestured for you to continue with your tale as he grabbed the oven mitts. “And she tried to worm more chocolate out of me, naturally.”

Bucky’s laugh sounded rich and deep, a sound you wished you could hear over and over. “I knew she would.” The dish in his hands was placed onto the countertop, and you set to cutting portions to eat; surreptitiously making sure Bucky had more than his fair share.

“Do you want to watch–”

“Why don’t we sit on the–”

The two of you stared at one another, eyes wide and smiles playing at the corners of your lips. “You first,” Bucky offered, chuckling quietly.

“I, uh– Do you want to sit on the couch–?”

“Sure, honey,” he replied, and he picked up your plate with his free hand. “Grab us a drink?”

You took a deep breath when Bucky turned his back to you. You’ve got this, you intoned.

Dinner was a quiet affair, and you were grateful for it — while it was your job and your pleasure to look after Bucky’s daughter, the little girl sure had boundless amounts of energy, and it was hard work keeping up with her.

After clearing your plate, you set it down onto the coffee table. Bucky was still going, so you settled into the plush cushions and watched the plain, mindless show without taking it in.

“Fawn, sweetheart?” Bucky whispered suddenly; voice close enough that you could feel the exhale of breath with his words.

You startled and blinked rapidly — the room was dark, the TV off and the lights dimmed.

“There you are,” Bucky cooed. He was sitting right next to you, his hand on your knee as he half faced you. “You fell asleep, honey—you feeling okay?”

“Oh– I, uh– Shit, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, sitting up. The blackened screen of the TV reflected the clock in the kitchen to show that it was only nine at night. “I better go—you no doubt want to go to sleep soon after such a big day–”

“Fawn, hey– Stop, it’s okay,” Bucky soothed, and he put a hand on your shoulder — the heat from his palm made your mind whirr with possibilities. “It’s okay. I let you sleep; you looked dead on your feet. I only woke you up because I thought you’d want to go home to your partner.”

Heat bloomed over your chest and up your neck, the way Bucky was staring at you made something stir that you would much rather stay dormant. “I, uh– Don’t have a partner, Mr. Barnes,” you whispered.

The silence could have engulfed you whole — tension billowed in the air, and you fidgeted, stubbornly refusing to meet his gaze.

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Bucky said eventually, and you shivered at the sound of his voice; lowered an octave and raspy with what you guessed was shock. “I’m sorry, darling, I shouldn’t have assumed. But let’s get you home, okay?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, getting to your feet.

Bucky handed you your bag, all neatly packed and organised, and walked you to the front door and down the front steps. “I don’t mean to presume, but can I ask you back again to watch Starlet–?” he asked, looking at you.

“Of course,” you blurted, and you meant it. “She was a fun bundle of energy, and you know how to contact me if you need me again.”

You tried, wholeheartedly, to fight the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as Bucky opened your car door, and then took your bag to place it in the trunk. In a roundabout way, you wished he would be insufferable, even arrogant in his disposition — it would have made it easier to banish the swelling crescendo of want that started to consume you.

“Will you message me when you get home?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, nodding. “I– I will. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Bucky brought you close in an embrace you returned, and you savoured the warmth of his body; the feel of his arms around you as he held you tight.

Though it had to end.

You pulled away, out of his hold, and moved to sit in the driver’s seat of your car.

“Get home safe, Fawn.” Bucky closed the door after you tucked your feet into the well, and he leaned against the side of your car.

“I will.” You smiled up at him, and then you turned the keys in the ignition.

The car spluttered and clunked back to silence. Bucky was looking towards the hood of your car with concern. “Oh, it’s just temperamental,” you said to reassure him, and yourself.

You tried again; you tried a third time, but there was only a piteous groan from the engine before it gave in, falling silent each time. “Great, just great,” you muttered angrily, cursing your luck that carried on from when the car first showed signs of kicking the bucket. “Fuck.”

“Pop the bonnet,” Bucky said, adjusting his sleeves. “I’ll take a look.”

Oh, boy, you groaned internally at the sight of his forearms flexing again, but you complied.

The metal creaked and groaned its protest of movement when Bucky pulled the hood up, locking it in place with one hand while the other dug into the engine bay. A determined frown pulled his pretty lips at the corner. “The old girl is on her last legs,” he gritted out through clenched teeth while he fiddled and yanked at parts of the engine. “The mounts are close to giving out and it looks like the battery is… well, fucked.”

You sighed, the sound hitching on a frustrated sob. “Can you– Can you call me a cab? I’ll get someone to come tow it in the morning, or something–”

“Fawn,” Bucky said fiercely, and he looked at you while he closed the hood of your traitorous car. “Do you think I’m going to send you home with some stranger when you’re clearly and rightfully upset?”

“But–”

“But fucking nothing, sweetheart,” he insisted, his tone somehow soft — like he cared. “Please, I have a spare bedroom—fuck, I have several, and you are welcome to any one of them until we can get you home tomorrow.”

The use of a curse drove his point home, so did the earnest glare in his eyes.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat, and you gestured at yourself. “But I haven’t brought clothes– What about Starlet in the morning? She doesn’t know–” She will get the wrong idea; Bucky doesn’t know what she’s said, you silently fretted, but there was no way to give voice to your worries, not in your distress.

“Honey, please, you can use some of my old clothes—they’ll be comfortable, and you’ll be modest. Just let me help you,” Bucky implored. He held a hand out, an offering to guide you back inside. “We can work it all out in the morning. I’m off tomorrow, and hell, Starlet would love having a friend over for breakfast—it’s pancakes and bacon.”

“That does sound pretty good,” you murmured, wringing your hands. The nagging feeling of imposing upon his hospitality would not dissipate, though. “Are you sure? I–”

Bucky shook his head, an exasperated smile on his lips. “C’mere, Fawn,” he said, and he slung his arm over your shoulder. You attempted to clamp your jaw shut around the shocked sound in your throat. “I’m sure. I can’t leave my Fawn high and dry; not when I can help.”

“Okay,” you squeaked, and you allowed Bucky to lead you back into the house and up the stairs towards the bedrooms.

Without a word, he paused at the top of the stairs and retracted his arm, hanging it by his side as he walked towards a larger, single door — you moved to follow him, but he placed his index finger over his lips, before he disappeared behind it. The house was silent in the absence of Starlet’s giggles and rambling rants of royalty, and you found yourself fidgeting in place while you waited for that door to open again.

As though he heard you, Bucky opened the door and walked towards you, offering a worn, soft, black henley, and a pair of dark sweats. “Back in my twenties,” he began, smiling down at the offered clothes, “I was twice the size—fucking obsessed with vanity. But these will be comfortable.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, taking the offered clothes. The movement made your fingers brush against his, and something changed — the air grew thick with crackling energy that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. “I– I will, uh, talk to you in the morning?”

Bucky nodded and stepped back; you tried not to whine from the loss of his proximity — luck was not on your side. Something must have shown of your inward pleading in your expression.

“Fawn?” he asked quietly, tilting his head. “You okay, sweetheart? You look–” He licked his lips, the action drawing your whole attention. “You look lost.”

“I’m fine,” you replied weakly, and you nodded once as though it would make it reality. Truthfully, you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole — the late hour naturally stripped you of your inhibitions, and God…

You cursed temptation to the high heavens.

“You sure?” Bucky asked, and he stepped closer again, his presence looming near enough to make your heart thunder against the confines of your throat.

“Mhm.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, and stepped forward again — you stepped back, forcing yourself not to melt onto the floor with how your knees shook. “Sweetheart… There’s something you’re not tellin’ me.”

The sudden dryness in your throat made you cough, and your eyes watered with the reflex. Bucky stepped closer and you backtracked until your heels hit the skirting board, your shoulders and back following close behind. “I– Ja– I mean, Bucky–”

His hands moved to either side of your head, effectively trapping you in place. “Yeah?”

Your mouth parted in shock, but nothing came to mind to defend yourself, or any urge to push him away.

Bucky hummed, tilting his head. “Fawn, you know if this isn’t okay you are more than welcome to knee me where the sun doesn’t shine—but look at you.” The breathy quality of Bucky’s voice made your stomach knot with arousal.

This was wrong, your mind screamed; this is what you want, your heart shouted.

“You’re desperately fighting against something, I see it; it's in your pretty eyes, baby,” he purred. “Talk to me—tell me what’s wrong, why are you fightin’?”

Bucky’s face loomed closer to yours, his lips parted only slightly, and you prayed for strength as you fisted his shirt, to pull or push him away, you couldn’t decipher — he was so, so close, if only you just reached out–

“What are you fightin’, my little Doe?”

“Oh– Bucky, please–” Thoughts swirled and escaped your grasp, faster than you could claim the words and the will to do the right damned thing. “Please, I– Hmph!”

His lips claimed yours, the softness of them insistent, desperate, and you moaned into his mouth from the rush of adrenaline. “Yes,” you breathed against his lips, and you threw your arms around his neck, forgoing your hold on his clothes.

The sweetness of Bucky’s lips made you chase them when he tried to pull back; you were starved for more, and he obliged your hunger by pushing you harder into the wall, his hands moving down your shoulders, your sides, to settle on your hips with a bruising grip.

Bucky’s tongue brushed along your bottom lip, and you moaned again, letting your tongue dance with his; the relief of finally allowing yourself to give into the urge you’d been constraining against was liberating in every manner, even if it were risky, you were determined to make the best of it.

It was only when he pulled back for breath did you realise he had been pawing at your hip and ass, the fabric bunched in his fists while he panted for air. “Fuck,” he murmured, and he started to laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest through the gasps for air. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, that,” you agreed breathlessly. “Fuck.”

The two of you stood in silence, catching your breaths, and you waited for the fall out of it all; the implosion that lurked around the corner.

“Fawn,” Bucky said quietly, and his index finger brushed along the underside of your chin; grey, inky eyes met yours with such intensity you almost collapsed under the heat of them. “I want you, baby—I wouldn’t have gambled my chances if I didn’t even have a hunch of what was going on in that pretty head of yours.”

“How did–”

“Never you mind, sweetheart. I’ve had my fair few rodeos with this; I can read you like a book.” The soft press of his lips against your forehead made your heart flutter. “Why don’t you get some sleep, hmm? We can talk in the morning—bright eyed and bushy tailed.” His quiet chuckle made your lips quirk up in a smile. “There’s my girl.”

You were unable to form the words to express the inner turmoil that brewed — that had been the best kiss of your life, Bucky liked you back, you hadn’t lost your job as you thought you would, and you were standing in Bucky’s home with an assortment of his clothes to wear while you slept.

“Fawn, baby,” Bucky teased, and he pulled you away from the wall. His hands rubbed down your arms before he knelt and picked up his discarded clothes, handing them to you with a smile. “Go to bed—you look like you’ve seen a ghost and been given the best news all at once. Get some sleep.”

The bedroom he guided you towards was spacious and just as luxurious as what you had seen of the rest of his home. Light colours filled the room; pastels and darker pops of paint made it contrast in a tasteful way, while the linen and pillows looked divine. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed across his chest and a smile on his swollen lips. “If you need anything, sweetheart, I’m just down there,” he said, pointing down the hall, back towards the room with the larger door. “Sleep well and I’ll see you in the morning.”

You looked at him, blinked, then smiled. “Yeah– Yeah, goodnight, Bucky.”

Relief, elation, fear all flooded you at once as you sidled up the mattress and under the covers. They drowned you beneath the waves of overwhelming thoughts of what would happen now; fear for what your future held.

Would it include Bucky? What would Starlet think?

It all amounted to the sheer relief that while you hadn’t initiated the risk, it happened, and your courage bound and leaped with joy for it.

And if you did a little squeal of joy and grinned wide enough to make your cheeks hurt as you tucked yourself into the plush blankets to sleep, it was nobody's business but your own.

the next part is already written. 😉🤭

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #dilf bucky barnes #rookthorne's works #babb2023 #alternate juneiverse #SweetSpicyHearts

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amazzwon · 4 months

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my go-to ENHYPEN (hyung line) fics

°˖➴ Fiancé for Hire

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°˖➴ Cherry II

°˖➴ Cherry III

°˖➴ Cherry Epilogue

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°˖➴ Carmesi

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playboy! sunghoon x fem reader, exes to lovers, fake dating, mutual pining, fluff, angst, 9.5k

°˖➴ will you let me

smut MDNI, angst

°˖➴ overtime

office au, fluff, 0.3k

°˖➴ Sparks

angst, 1.8k

°˖➴ BED

fiance!sunghoon x fem!reader, 7.8k

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ Headcanons

Enha when their idol!partner has a wardrobe malfunction

Enha when their actress partner films with a hot actor

music bank hosts: idol!enha x idol! reader

the moments that make everyone think you’re dating (all eyes on you)

Enha hyung line reaction to you being bratty

Reaction to you asking them Ass or Tits

JAY tattoos the hickeys you leave

JAY spitting in your mouth

enhypen falling in love with you during hybe game caterers

their "oh" moment (the moment they realise they're in love)

when you play with their hair

when you call them ‘babe’

calling them “husband” trend.

texting them "please don't leave me"

782 notes · View notes

eddiesghxst · 11 months

Text

summer vacation

me writing a full eddie fic? who would've thunk fr

lmaoo here's a little something I randomly typed up, yes it is older neighbor!eddie and no, this trope will never get old (TO ME! TO. ME.)

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: older neighbor!eddie x college fem!reader

summary: You're back from college for the summer and your parent's new neighbor, Mr. Munson is hot

contains: age-difference (reader is 23, Eddie is like late 30's or sum idk...older), slight forbidden-relationship trope, car sex, making out, tiny mention of oral, fingering, slight praise kink, p in v (unprotected - don't be stupid), creampie, and eddie being a slutty flirt <3

word count: 4.6k

-masterlist-

okay, I think that's everything so...enjoy!

Coming home for summer was, for the most part, decent. You don’t have to worry about buying food and toiletries; you can spend your days doing nothing without feeling like shit about it, and apart from seeing a few familiar faces you aren’t quite fond of, you also get to see childhood friends you’d missed over the semester.

Your parents moved into a bigger house after your mom finally persuaded your dad to buy her the home of her dreams. White picket fence, green grass to match with a wrap-around porch, and a lovely pool in the backyard. It was beautiful, no doubt. And the neighborhood was nice, apart from the obnoxious kids that play rounds of ding dong ditch every now and then, along with your neighbor that blares his heavy metal music all day. You’re forced to listen to mixes of Dio, Megadeath, and Ozzy on a day-to-day basis, but you can’t find it in yourself to be mad, considering the man blaring said music is a sight for sore eyes. You’ve only seen him in passing, in the morning when he’s moving the trash for pick-up day or when he’s just getting home from work.

His name is Mr. Munson; your mother told you one day. “He’s quite friendly, actually. He hasn’t said much since we moved in, but he’s nice for the most part."

And you can admit when someone is attractive, and Mr. Munson is attractive. But he’s your parent's neighbor, so there’s not much you can do in that realm except admire from afar whenever you get the chance.

You end up booking yourself a babysitting gig for a family friend halfway into the summer: two kids, Lily and David, a set of six-year-old twins. For the most part, they’re easy to manage, David is quieter and more reserved than Lily’s extroverted nature, but they balance each other out enough for you to tolerate them.

It’s Friday night, and you have them until the morning because their parents are having a date night. Your parents have been on a cruise the past week, so apart from Lily and David, you’ve got the house to yourself. You let the twins choose what they wanted for dinner, and they picked pizza hut, something about them wanting to try cheese stuffed crust. You allow them to have one can of soda each as long as they promised not to tell their parents, and they swore on Lily’s stuffed animal, Oreo, that they wouldn’t share your secret.

It’s nearly ten o’clock when you settle into the couch to watch a movie. You’re under the impression that the twins are asleep until you hear the soft patter of little feet behind you. You turn around to see a sleepy Lily rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Hey, bud, what’s up?” You question, watching as she rounds the corner to stand before you. “I can’t sleep. The music is too loud.” Lilly complains. You frown, “There’s no music playing, buddy.”

Lily shakes her head and points towards the living room window, and you immediately know what he’s talking about. You can see the garage light from Mr. Munson’s house, indicating that he’s most likely working on something in there. You nod and get up, “Okay. I’ll take care of it; just wait here.”

Lily watches as you put on some shoes before slipping out the front door. You can see her watching through the window as you walk across the lawn toward Mr. Munson’s garage, and you laugh to yourself.

You’re slightly nervous to ask him to turn the music down, but you’re sure Lily isn’t the only annoyed person in the neighborhood, so you take it that you’re doing everyone a favor.

He’s leaned over the open hood of his car, elbow-deep in grease, as he tugs at a few parts. You don’t want to startle him, so you clear your throat, but it’s drowned out by King Diamond singing ‘Curse of the Pharaohs.’ You’re not entirely familiar with the band Mercyful Fate, but you’ve heard Mr. Munson play them quite a few times, enough to be able to name a few of their songs.

His garage is nice, mostly clean apart from cluttered shelves and cabinets. Three electric guitars hang on the wall, equally spaced from each other to form a pristine presentation. Around the instruments, the wall is filled with posters of different metal bands, a few of them you recognize but for the most part, you just think they add a nice touch.

You step further into the garage and lightly tap his bare shoulder. The man glances over at you, and you catch a glimpse of a cigarette hanging from his lip before he returns to his task. “Can I help you?” He mutters over the music.

Your mother’s words toss around in your head; He’s quite friendly, actually... he’s nice for the most part. Some friendly introduction that was.

You clear your throat before you speak, “Yeah, I…I live next door, um, I’m babysitting tonight, and so I was just wondering if you could turn down the music.”

He doesn’t respond, and for a moment, you think he didn’t hear you, but then he’s taking in a breath and standing up straight as he steps away from the car, grabbing the towel in his back pocket to wipe his greased hands as he turns around and eyes you for a moment.

You take in the full sight of him, dressed in ripped jeans and a shitty loose white tank top. His hair is tied back into a bun, messy bangs dusting the tops of his eyelashes as he blinks at you. He takes a drag of his cigarette before he speaks, “How can I help you?”

So, he didn’t hear you. You take in a breath as you rock on the heels of your feet; you speak louder this time, practically yelling over the music, “I’m babysitting right now, and uh, your music is a little loud.” He studies you, slightly narrowing his eyes before he speaks again.

“Don’t like my music, princess?”

Your lips part in surprise before quickly shaking your head, “No! No, I don’t mind, really. I’m not exactly the one with the request.” You gesture towards your house, and he glances over at where you had pointed to catch a glimpse of the little kid watching from the window. Mr. Munson lets out a small laugh, and you smile as he turns back to you, placing a hand against his chest and bowing his head, “My apologies.”

You watch as he turns around and walks over to the shelf where his stereo sits, reaching up for the volume and turning it down to an acceptable level. You take the time to admire the stretch of his arms and the few tattoos on display beneath the garage light.

He’s taking another drag of his cigarette when he turns around and walks over to you. “Better?” It’s a lighthearted tone he uses, straying away from what many would think to be condescending. You nod and breathe, muttering a small thank you before turning on your heel to walk back home. But for some reason, something compels you to turn around. You have to force yourself to ignore that he has still been watching you from where he stands, leaning against the side of his car.

“I really like your car, by the way.” You sound breathless, like you’d been holding the compliment in, and it suddenly burst from your lips. Mr. Munson glances down at the car and smiles. It’s a vintage 1968 Ford Mustang fastback, one you’ve seen many times on those car-themed calendars they sell at the gas station register. It’s black with nicely tinted windows and a top coat so shiny that you believe it’s freshly painted. It fits him perfectly; they complement each other in a seamless way that you admire.

“Why thank you, princess.” He’s walking up to you, and you hold your breath. He stands next to you and turns to join you as you admire the car from afar. He takes one last drag of his cigarette before dropping it and crushing it beneath his shoe. “You like vintage cars?” White clouds escape his lips as he talks, and you like how the smoke burns your lungs.

You glance towards him and nod with a smile, “Yeah. I’m a big fan of Mustangs. I wanted one in high school, but my dad said no— too fast for a 16-year-old, I guess.” You softly laugh, and he smiles, gazing over at you. “Remind me one of these days, and I’ll let you take her for a spin.”

Your head snaps towards him, and you glance up at him with a look of surprise. “I—... Seriously? I don’t know if I trust myself not to crash it.” You nervously laugh. He laughs with you and pats your shoulder, softly squeezing as he responds, “I’ve got faith in you,” You shiver when he leans forward a bit, “Don’t tell your dad; it’ll be our secret.” Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest when he sneaks in a quick wink, squeezing your shoulder once before walking back towards the garage.

“Um… Okay, Goodnight, Mr. Munson.” You internally cringe from your high-pitched voice, and you swear you can hear a smile when he responds, facing you as he gets back to work beneath the hood, “Night, sweetheart.”

You’re halfway down his driveway when he adds, “Oh, and uh… Just call me Eddie…” You turn around to see him sifting through his toolbox, glancing your way, and flashing a small smile. “No need for formalities. I’m not eighty years old.” He waves a dismissive hand, and you nod. “Okay… Eddie.” You tell him your name, and he smiles before returning to his task.

You practically sprint back to your house, slamming the door behind you with a deep exhale as you replay the entire conversation.

You spend the rest of your night thinking about your neighbor, Eddie Munson.

————

Over the next few weeks, you conclude that Eddie Munson was not flirting with you.

There’s no possible way he could’ve been flirting with you. For starters, he’s a grown man; he most likely wants nothing to do with a 23-year-old woman struggling to make her way through college. Secondly, you probably had just mistaken him being nice for whatever flirtatious fantasy you’d made up. And lastly, what puts the final nail in the coffin, is when you catch a glimpse of him walking into his home at two in the morning with a woman, one you’d never seen, but someone of his fancy considering the way she’d dragged him inside to do…god knows what.

So, no. Eddie Munson was not flirting with you, and he does not want you. As much as it crushed your ridiculous Lana Del Rey-inspired fantasies, you accepted that the older man had only seen you as a neighbor— a possible friend at most.

The two of you speak here and there whenever you cross paths when he’s leaving for work, taking the trash out, or when he’s working on his car, and you’re watering your mother’s flower bed—a friendly wave with a soft smile. You force yourself to ignore the little things he says that can be mistaken for advances because, in reality, he’s just being nice, and you have a crush.

It’s a hot Saturday afternoon when you see him again, three weeks after your first late-night conversation. You’re standing on the lawn, one hand holding a water hose to spray the flowers and the other hand busy holding a popsicle. Eddie is busy replacing a part in his car, something about a failed transmission he mentioned to you some days ago.

You’re busy listening to your summer playlist as you devour the sweet treat and water the plants, so focused that you don’t even hear Eddie call your name. Through the blaring volume of your headphones, you can catch the sound of a car horn, pulling you from your task-induced trance. You look over to Eddie’s driveway to see he’s pulled the car out of the garage and is now standing outside, leaning against the open car door.

You remove a single earbud and turn off the water hose. You can’t see Eddie's eyes behind the dark-tinted sunglasses he’s wearing, but you can tell he’s looking at you. “You still up for that drive I promised you?”

You think how quickly your heart begins to race inside your chest is stupid. “Uh— now?”

He shrugs, and you take a silent sharp breath, “I mean, unless if you’re doing something better—” “No!” You feel embarrassed at your evident enthusiasm, “No, I mean… yeah, okay, just…let me get my shoes.”

You don’t stay long enough to see Eddie smile, but you hear him chuckle to himself as you drop the hose and jog into your house. You curse as you rummage through your closet for the shoes you had in mind, hastily slipping them on once you find them and throwing away the rest of your popsicle. On your way out, your mother asks where you're headed, and you spin a quick lie about going to the gas station for a drink.

Eddie is patiently waiting outside his car when you walk up to him, a nervous smile plastered across your face. “Um… So, where are we going?”

He’s casually chewing a piece of gum as he lazily smiles; you can see the reflection of yourself in his glasses, and your heart races in anticipation. “You ever been to the drop-off?”

You shake your head no, and you’re becoming a little concerned with the rate your heart is beating as you watch the smirk on Eddie’s lips spread into a full smile. “Well, you’re in for a treat, princess.”

————

The ‘drop-off’ is a cliff.

A beautiful one, full of wildlife and trees, with a tiny stream at the bottom. You’d question Eddie's motives for bringing you here if you didn't know better. For all you know, Eddie could be a killer that’s coaxed you into his car, driven you out to this cliff, and intends to toss you over the edge to face your inevitable doom.

However, you don’t think that’s his intention, especially not with how he’s licking into your mouth with a lustful hunger, moaning against your lips when you climb over the console to straddle him and grind against the obvious tent in his jeans.

You’re not 100% sure how you ended up here, making out with your much-much older neighbor, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop and think about it because he’s kissing you in a way that makes you want to do unspeakable things.

“For a second there, I thought you wanted to kill me,” Stupid, such a stupid thing to say in the middle of making out, but you say it anyway. To your delight, Eddie breathlessly laughs as he looks up at you, licking his lips whilst his hands slip beneath your skirt to squeeze at your hips.

There’s music softly playing in the back, Mercyful Fate again; Eddie had told you he stumbled across a few of their old CDs while cleaning out his storage and has since been going through one of those phases where he can’t seem to listen to anything else.

You want to kiss Eddie again, but suddenly he’s clearing his throat and giving your thighs a soft pat in indication to move back to your seat. “I should get you home now; it’s late.”

The frown on your face isn’t hard to miss, but Eddie doesn’t see it either way, too preoccupied with avoiding your gaze. “What?” “It’s late.”

You gaze down at him silently for a few seconds before returning to the passenger seat. You don't understand. You don’t understand Eddie Munson. All this time you spent convincing yourself that he wasn’t into you has gone to waste now that he’s just stuck his tongue down your throat, but now he can’t even look you in the eye.

He takes a slow breath, twisting one of the many rings wrapped around his fingers. “Look…I know how this seems, and you probably think I’m an asshole, but… we can’t.” Eddie can feel you glaring at the side of his head, and he braves through it to glance at you. You look confused and upset, much like he’s feeling right now, unbeknownst to you. “Why not?” “Because I—” He looks at you again and pauses before shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

You let it sit for a few moments before you speak up and say his name, waiting until he looks at you to speak, “I wanted to come here… and I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here and… I want you to fuck me.”

You’re not exactly sure where the sudden boldness came from, but you feel so fucking good having it off your chest. You want Eddie to fuck you. You’ve been wanting Eddie to fuck you; hell, it’s practically all you’ve been thinking about since you came home for summer and saw him. So many fantasies of Eddie fucking you in various places; your house, his house, on the hood of his car, in your backyard near the pool. You want it all, and you’re bored of using just your hands and imagination.

“I don’t think you understand what you’re really asking for here, sweetheart.” There’s a warning glint in his eyes, an offer to back out and forget this ever happened, but you don’t want that— you want him.

“But I’m not asking. I want you to fuck me, Eddie. And I know you want it too; otherwise, we wouldn’t still be here.”

Eddie looks at you with a gaze good enough to have you clenching your thighs beneath your skirt. He looks away with a breathless laugh, “You don’t give up, do you?”

You try to hide the smile tugging at your lips but fail as you shake your head. “Shit… Okay… Okay, fine, uh— get in the back.”

You try to be as coy as possible and not show your excitement as you climb into the backseat of Eddie’s car. You watch him sift through his glove box, cursing to himself when he can’t find what he’s looking for. “I’m on the pill,” You suddenly say, growing shy when Eddie looks back at you. “...Just thought I’d let you know.”

Eddie nods and shuts the glovebox, “I guess that solves that problem, then.”

Eddie’s then climbing to the backseat to join you, groaning in protest at the cramped space and his tight back. His lips meet yours in a hasty kiss when you advance, hungry to feel him in any way you can. He curses under his breath as he finally settles in, pulling you closer to sit on his lap. “You sure your parents aren’t gonna be wondering where you went?” He mutters against your lips, moaning when you reach down to palm him over his jeans. You nod, breathless, as you respond with a mischievous smile, “Told them I was going to get a drink.”

You’re back to kissing, rutting against one another like you’re getting paid to do it, and Eddie makes a comment about feeling like he’s back in high school fucking in some empty parking lot, and you laugh. Your laugh falls into a moan when Eddie sneaks a hand beneath your skirt to pet over your clothed center, humming at the obvious evidence of your arousal. You try your best to keep kissing Eddie, but you lose focus when he pushes your panties aside and drags a finger through your wet heat. Your hips twitch against his hold, and you mewl, dropping your head into the space between his neck and shoulder. “Need it, Eddie, please.” You beg, and Eddie hums, rubbing your clit and causing your thighs to twitch, “What, princess? What do you need, hm?” “Need you to fuck me.”

He chuckles, and you whine in annoyance at his teasing when he rubs your clit, “Gotta get you ready for me first, pretty girl. That okay?” He can feel you hastily nodding against his neck, hips squirming for more when he finally gives it to you, slowly sinking a single digit into you. Eddie’s sporting a short scuff these days, too lazy to shave, and the sensation of the coarse hair scratching against you sends shivers down your spine as you nuzzle against his neck, begging for more, more, more.

His other hand smooths up the expanse of your thigh and around your hips to squeeze the fat of your ass, groaning lowly when you whimper and push against his hand. “M-more, Eddie.“

Eddie could come just from hearing your broken voice beg for his fingers, “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me, princess.” He sinks in another finger, slowly fucking them in and out of your wet cunt until you’re a whiney mess atop of him, begging for more.

You reach a hand out to hold onto the seat behind him, nails digging into the vintage leather as you rock against his fingers. The wet sound of Eddie’s fingers thrusting into you fills out the space, falling into a filthy harmony with his radio. Eddie will, without a doubt, be thinking about this moment for the coming weeks. He’s sure of it.

Eddie makes you come twice before laying you across his leather seats, once with just his fingers and again with his fingers, pulling down your tiny tank top to suck and lick at your tits, leaving little red and purple blotches across your soft skin.

The space is tight in the back of his car, but neither of you cares enough to mention it. You’re starry-eyed and blissed out as you watch Eddie sit up to unbuckle his jeans and push them to rest below his ass. Your mouth waters at the sight of him; he’s long and thick, not the thickest you’ve had but definitely the longest. As you watch Eddie languidly stroke himself, you want to wrap your lips around him and taste the small amounts of precum he smears across his tip. Eddie glances at you and smirks when he sees your hungry gaze; he knows what you want and wants to give it to you.

He leans over you and smears his sticky thumb across your bottom lip, begging for entrance which you gladly grant him. You wrap your lips around his thumb and suck as if it was his cock, swirling your tongue around the pad of his finger and humming at the burst of flavor against your tongue, the taste of Eddie Munson. You love it, and you want more, but Eddie has different plans.

He removes his thumb from your mouth and brings it down to slicken the slide of his cock as he strokes himself a few more times. He runs the tip of his cock from your entrance to your clit, slapping it against you a few times to pull pathetic moans from deep within your chest. He smiles, kissing you as he does it again, “Fuck, you’re so wet, Jesus Christ.” He moans against your lips, and you softly laugh, squirming to feel more of him. The sounds you’re making are obscene, both your moans and the wet sloshing between your legs each time Eddie taps himself against you.

“Eddie, please. Please fuck me, I want it so bad—” He cuts you off with another kiss before he pulls away to adjust your position. He lifts one of your legs to drape over his shoulder as he pins the other leg to the seat. “There we go, keep them open, baby. Just like that,” He hums in approval, and your chest flutters at the notion. The initial push of Eddie’s cock within your walls is what you’d imagine heaven to feel like in the form of a sensation.

He was big, that much you could tell from looking, but actually feeling it is almost otherworldly. You can feel every vein rubbing against your walls with each inch he sinks further into you. By the time he bottoms out, balls pressed against the thick of your ass and pelvis deliciously kissing your clit, you’re at a loss for words.

You can hear Eddie praising you for how well you’re taking him, but through your lust-clouded mind, you don’t comprehend much, too absorbed in the feeling of Eddie slamming into you repeatedly.

Eddie’s hand is pressed into the seat right next to your head, holding him up as he fucks you for all your worth, and you find yourself wrapping a hand around his wrist, nails digging into the tattooed skin. He hisses in pleasure, moaning when you clench around him. “You feel so fucking good, princess. Taking me so well, fuck.”

You let your head fall to the side, lips pressing against Eddie's wrist in a gentle kiss, and it seems to flip something in Eddie’s brain because he gives you a particularly rough thrust, humming when you let out a high-pitched moan. “Oh my god—- shit, you’re so fucking wet. This is all for me, hm?”

You’re pathetically nodding and moaning in response, grinding your hips to meet his hasty thrusts.

With your two previous orgasms, you find yourself teetering on the edge of overstimulation, thighs twitching to close around Eddie’s frame, but he’s quick to deny you the right. “Keep them open, princess. Need to see the way this pretty pussy swallows my dick.”

Eddie’s now sitting back on his knees, head tilted down to avoid hitting the roof of the car, allowing him to gaze down at the sight of your wet cunt taking every inch of him. He’s got tunnel vision as he coasts his hands from your hips to your cunt, slowing down his thrusts to spread your sticky lips apart slowly. You pulse beneath his gaze, and you feel him twitch within you. “Look at this pretty flower,” he hums, leaning down to let a dribble of spit drip onto your awaiting sex. You moan his name, and he smiles, dragging a thumb through the spit to spread it against your clit.

He begins thrusting again, caught between the sight of his cock drilling in and out of your pussy, the bounce of your tits with each thrust, and the way your face twists with pleasure whenever he hits that one spot.

It’s unexpected when you come; you’re practically speechless as Eddie fucks every thought out of your head. He groans at the feeling of you clenched around him, the view of you squirming beneath him and clawing at his seat. If it were anyone else, he would’ve bitched about that, but you look so fucking good.

“Holy fuck, I’m gonna come,” Eddie pants, and you moan in eagerness when he says it, eyes fluttering open to watch as he starts to succumb to the feeling. ”Fuck, where do you want it, princess?” “Inside, please. Want it inside, Ed’s.”

Ed’s, that’s what does it for him. He’s immediately tipping over the edge, pressing his entire length into you and filling you to the fucking brim. You can feel some of it leak out of you, dripping down your ass and onto the seats below you. You watch in awe as his jaw drops, eyes fluttering shut, and head tipping back in ecstasy. You want to take a picture and have this view for the rest of your life.

When Eddie pulls out, you’re sensitive and cry out in protest, but he kisses your jaw gently and tells you how good you did. He can’t help it when he leans back and looks at the sight below him, ringed fingers gently massaging your sore inner thighs, “You look so fucking pretty filled with me, sweetheart… I’m going to be addicted to you.”

You laugh, and he smiles before proceeding to help you get appropriately dressed again. Once you’re both dressed and cleaned to the best of your ability, with the help of a few leftover fast food napkins in Eddie’s glove box, you make your way to the front seats again.

Eddie glances over at you and smiles when you shy away. He reaches for his box of Marlboro's on the dashboard, and you watch as he lights up. He takes a slow breath, letting the smoke properly settle into his lungs before turning to you with a smirk.

“Let’s go get you that drink.”

1K notes · View notes

queenshelby · 11 months

Text

Pool Party (One Shot)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: SMUT with a lack of plot, huge age gap

Words: 3,656

Notes: In this fic, Ruby is 19 years old. Tommy is in his mid-forties and married to Lizzie which, of course, does not prevent him from having some fun here and there.

It was a sunny afternoon and, just like most weekends these days, you spent the day with your best friend Ruby Shelby.

Unlike you, Ruby was rather wealthy after becoming involved in her father’s company, Shelby Company Limited, and, even though she was working only on the legitimate side of the business, everyone in the Birmingham area knew that Shelby Company Limited had, in the past, been funded through drug money and pay-offs.

In the past, these pay offs and drug deals were facilitated by the Peaky Blinders, a gang involved in organised crime and run by no other than Thomas Shelby, being Ruby’s father himself.

He was a bad man and even though you knew about his criminal past, you somehow felt attracted to him. He was handsome and rather intimidating which was something that, in itself, turned you on quite a lot.

He was the kind of man you knew you could never have and, of course, being attracted to your friend’s father was somewhat taboo and forbidden, making it even more interesting for you.

You knew that you wanted to have him, just that once. You wanted him to take you and make you his and it was this very same Sunday afternoon that you took a shot at this very famous Birmingham gangster when making your way into his office unannounced.

His wife Elizabeth was around and so were most of the maids, which meant that you had to be quiet.

Ruby was busy by the pool with some other friends and you excused yourself, pretending that you needed a rest.

Ten minutes later…

When you walked into Tommy’s office a few minutes after leaving the pool, you were surprised to find it empty. The door had been unlocked but there was no sight of the man you had hoped to see.

He had disappeared and, after taking a quick look at the golden clock sticking out from above the door, you decided to wait.

You waited for ten minutes at least until, suddenly, you were startled by a bang.

The door opened and then shut again loudly, causing you to jump and turn around.

“Mr Shelby” you gasped but he did not appear to be amused.

“Can I help you or have you found what you were looking for?” was what he asked, thinking that you were spying on him or looking for something that could hurt him and his family.

“Uhm, I have actually” you stammered before approaching him slowly but he still seemed to be on guard.

“And what may that be, eh?” he asked before reaching for your wrist, trying to see what you were holding on to.

“You” you responded quickly while opening your hand, revealing the red velvet lipstick you had taken from Ruby’s room and put on for him.

“Me?” your friend’s father then asked while the lipstick dropped to the floor. “And what do you want from me?” Tommy then went on to ask while letting go of your wrist.

“Just you” you stammered again and, even though you were wearing a shiny silk bikini that was clearly gaining his attention by now, you did not feel confident enough to tell him that, ideally, you wanted him to bend you over his desk and fuck you. He was just too intimidating for you to say such a thing.

“You need to be a bit more specific Love” Tommy chuckled, causing you to nod nervously while still avoiding the question.

“What is it that you want me to do for you?” he then asked again, this time more impatiently than before and it was obvious to you that, by this point, he was getting rather frustrated with the lack response you gave him.

“I…uhm…” you thus stammered before, suddenly, blurting it out. “I want you to fuck me, Mr Shelby” you told him while turning rather red in the face and blushing heavily with embarrassment.

“You want me to fuck you?” Tommy asked after his chin had dropped and, whilst you being in his office in a bathing suit should have been an obvious indication for him, the fact that you were his daughter’s friend alleviated that assumption.

“Yes” you confirmed and, just as you did, a thousand thoughts went through Tommy’s mind, most of which were logical reasons as to why he should not be engaging in sex with you. And yet, the more he looked at you in this silken bikini, the more those logical thoughts took a back seat to the desire rising within him.

“How old are you?” he nonetheless ought to clarify and your reaction to his question surprised you.

“Old enough” you told him firmly, causing him to cock an eyebrow.

“Twenty” you then told him, seeing that, again, he was getting a little frustrated while yet, unbeknownst to you, his cock was rock-hard and throbbing, begging for release.

“Twenty, eh?” Tommy smirked before turning around and, just when you thought that he would leave you standing there like a fool, right in the middle of his office, wearing nothing but your bathers, he locked the door.

“What are you doing?” you asked, smiling and Tommy smirked again, this time more sarcastically than before.

“Locking the door” he responded bluntly but with a half-smile on his face.

“Why?” you queried again nervously while Tommy finally approached you.

“Because we don’t want my wife or daughter to walk in on us while we fuck, do we?” Tommy responded before cornered you and traced one of his hands across your cheek.

“No, we do not” you confirmed with a gasp in your voice as his fingers moved back along your cheekbone, and tangled sharply into your hair.

You hissed air through your teeth, as the pain prickled your scalp and your chest lifted toward his body, presenting itself submissively under his grasp.

Tommy then guided you closer towards his desk and his firm grasp on your hair directed you up on to your toes, where he then pulled you even closer, and kissed you firmly. His tongue parted your lips, and took your mouth captive. The mixture of surrender and desire swirling through your body gave the kiss an intoxicating effect, and you had to place your hands against his chest to balance.

His grasp on your hair released, and he stroked the place he had previously held, as your kiss broke free.

“This needs to stay between us Love. Understood?” Tommy then said and you nodded eagerly while Tommy guided his thumb over your chin seductively before taking off his cufflinks and rolling up his sleeves, leaving his arms exposed.

“I understand Mr Shelby. Now tell, what do you want me to do for you? I am yours” you said while watching him and, again, he smirked.

“I want you to get onto your knees. Can you do that for me, Love?” he teased and, of course, you nodded again and complied with his request.

“Yes Mr Shelby” you then confirmed while starring at his manhood pushing firmly against the fabric of his pants.

‘Very good” Tommy cooed. “Now take out my cock and let me watch those velvety lips wrap around it” Tommy then said with a deep growl which was reverberating through your needy body and making your belly flutter hotly. He was so sure of himself and this aroused you even more.

‘It would be my pleasure” you told him as you reached for his crotch with shaking hands before unclasping his belt and undoing the zipper of his black pants nervously.

‘Common Love, we don’t have all day, eh” he then chuckled, seeing how nervous you were and, with that, you finally managed to undo what needed to be undone and pushed down his pants and briefs in one go.

At his height, his cock hovered just above your waiting lips and your eyes traced longingly over the veins coiling down his thick shaft to the neat tuft of dark hair around the base.

Your hand went immediately to Tommy’s length, stroking it gently and, just after a groan escaped his lips, he again gave you the hurry up.

‘Open your mouth Love and show me your tongue’ he said and you nervously complied with his request.

"Yes Mr Shelby" you gasped again, your voice a breathless whine.

“Good, now run it over my cock and then wrap your lips around it” Tommy instructed and you bucked up on your knees, getting into position with your parted lips hovering just above his waiting cock. Your eyes stayed low, fixed on his crotch and, just as you starred into his pelvis, you gently licked his head, tasting the salty precum that had already pooled in his slit.

You then wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, the musky smell of his manhood filling your nostrils and sending heat flooding through your heaving chest.

Tommy groaned as soon as your lips made contact with his throbbing shaft but then you made your first mistake. You reached up with one trembling hand to hold his cock by the base, meaning to steady his shaft as you worked your lips deeper. Your tentative fingers wrapped around him, feeling the delightful stiffness in your submissive grasp, the throbbing heat of him, pulsing with desire for your warm lips and soft tongue.

You then started to lean forward, meaning to take more of his length inside your mouth, but Tommy stopped you.

"No Love. Do it properly, eh. Keep those hands behind your back and just use your mouth" Tommy snapped and your disobedient hand was flying behind you to clasp the other there in the small of your back, clasping your wrists firmly.

“Good. Now open up wide and take my cock into your throat” Tommy instructed before you resumed to use your mouth to hold his cock without using your hands, cradling the head between your soft lips. Craning up, you started to slide yourself down, taking a little more of him each time. His stiff cock pressed down on your waiting tongue, stretching your lips wider as you worked your way deeper.

“You are doing well” Tommy said as your pussy ached with desire at the taste of his skin, the warmth and hardness of him filling your mind and drowning you in the sensation of his manly organ pressed inside your waiting mouth.

"Use your tongue" he then growled and you shivered before curling your tongue up, letting the soft muscle tease around the tip of his cock, just gently brushing over what you know is achingly sensitive skin where the spongy head meets the shaft. Your reward moments later was a low groan of pleasure in Tommy’s deep voice.

“This feels good. Keep going” Tommy told you as his muscled legs tensed on either side of you. Your tongue darted back around, flickering over the small, stretched sliver of skin where his foreskin met the head of his erection. He groaned again, and you could feel the pulsing throb of his shaft against your lips as his cock responded to your attention. Your skin tingled with longing anticipation, knowing you are managing to please him.

"Now take me deeper” Tommy then demanded and, before you had time to think, he took hold of the back of your head and forced you down his cock. You whimpered as he made you lean forward, your stretched lips sliding almost halfway down his length before he allowed you to draw back, then repeating again. The third time, you pressed your lips deeper, taking almost his entire length until you felt the hard tip of his cock pressing painfully against the entrance to your throat. A small discomfort, easily ignored in your need to obey.

“Good girl. Fuck. Keep going” Tommy purred as you held him there for a few moments, feeling a slight ache in your chest as your lungs protested. Then, finally he let go of you and you leaned up again, leaving his pulsing shaft glistening with saliva as your stretched lips glid back along his length until only the head rested against your fluttering tongue.

“You look absolutely delightful like this Sweetheart” Tommy smirked as you snatched a breath through your nose, the scent of him filling the very air you breathe. Then, it began again and he forced you to lean forward and his cock pressed inside your mouth once more.

Quickly enough, you relaxed into the rhythm of what Tommy made you do and you let your body and your need to please take over. The slow count from one to three settled into an easy habit, and you found yourself considering just how you felt right now. But you considered Tommy’s responses too, the way his breath hitched when you licked at that one particular spot near the head of his cock, the tenseness in his legs when you took his shaft deeper that told you just how much he enjoyed every moment.

"I am close” Tommy then murmured, his voice echoing your unspoken thoughts. "Look at me" he ordered and you paused at that, your tongue still delicately resting on the tip of Tommy’s erection.

You complied with his orders and a pair of blue eyes starred back at you, dulled with hooded pleasure as your tongue continued playing over the tip of his cock. You sucked on his shaft and he moaned again, his lips trembling. Your heart soared at the obvious pleasure on his handsome face, knowing that you were the cause of all of it.

"Good Girl. Keep going and make me cum in your mouth” Tommy went on to say while his warm hand landed on your head and he guided your movements once more. With a harsh grip on your hair, he made you lean forward and you almost choked on his shaft as the thick head of his cock slammed into the entrance to your throat. Your tongue moved like a serpent, writhing in your mouth, and sliding across every inch of his skin that you could reach, while your lips wrap around his shaft as you sucked lushly, the wet, sloppy sounds of your eager blowjob filling the room.

Tommy then groaned again and you could feel his cock swell in your mouth and his balls tightening against your chin. His breath caught, and just like that, you felt his hot cum spattering across your throat. His hips jerked back as he orgasmed, some of his bitter sweet seed spraying over your tongue instead, filling your mouth with the taste of his semen. His cock popped free of your lips, the last few pearly drops spattering across your lips and chin. You kneeled there, frozen in place, your eyes still fixed on his face as he gasped and panted for breath. Your own pussy ached and throbbed with needy heat, but the distraction of your own fierce arousal was easily ignored...for now at least.

"Hold it in your mouth” Tommy then said and you held as much of his thick load as you could in your mouth, the taste and smell of his cum filling your senses. "Now look up at me..." he ordered and you complied with his request while your cheeks puffed out to keep as much of the cum inside as you could until he said the unthinkable. "Now swallow it, every drop” he told you and after nodding reluctantly, your throat tensed as you gulp down the load, the slick cum sliding easily down into your waiting belly. The taste of it still lingered on your tongue, and you could feel the heat of it.

“Was this to your satisfaction Mr Shelby?” you then asked with a needy look on your face.

“It was” Tommy confirmed before pulling you to your feet.

“You did well Love” he then said before pressing his lips on to yours in a haste, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he had just cum in your mouth and, just as you were expected you gave into the kiss.

Just as Tommy was kissing you, his hand came in between your thighs and he ran his fingers through your wetness.

“You are so fucking wet for me, eh” Tommy said with great satisfaction after he pulled his mouth away from your lips and placed his fingers onto them, making you taste your own wetness.

“Of course I am Mr Shelby” you told him and, again Tommy smirked.

“Good” he told you before giving you some further instructions. “Now come over here and lean over my desk. I want to fuck you from behind and, when I do, I expect you not to make a sound. Is that understood?” Tommy then said and, of course, you nodded once more and complied with his request.

You leaned across his large cedar desk and looked back at him expectantly and, just as you did, he pushed down your bikini bottoms to reveal your naked ass and pussy.

“Your pussy looks rather inviting Love. So wet and tight” Tommy said just as you saw that his cock was hard and ready again but, when he walked behind you and aligned himself with your wetness, you began to tremble.

“Has anyone ever fucked you like this? From behind over a fucking desk?” he then asked and you shook your head.

“No Mr Shelby” you confirmed and a smile formed across his face.

“Well, Love, this may be a little uncomfortable at first then, but you will learn to enjoy it” Tommy then told you as his hands began roaming over your back and ass, squeezing at your flesh.

You moaned, especially when his hands came around to your front and began squeezing your breasts which you lifted off the desk just as his hands demanded. Looking down you could see his hands kneading the tender mounds, playing with your nipples.

Then, without any warning whatsoever, Tommy pressed into you from behind, his cock rubbing along the length of your wet pussy, making you yearn for him to turn you over and spread your thighs open for him.

But this was not what he had planned and, instead, Tommy pulled one of his hands away from your breasts in order to line himself up with your pussy, and he began to push into you from behind. You gasped with this novel sensation as Tommy’s cock rubbed the insides of your pussy in a completely new way. He pushed into you all the way in one stroke until his groin met up with your ass cheeks and you could feel your flesh pressing against his body. The sensation made you moan and wiggle as you luxuriated in this new self-indulgence.

Then he pulled out and slammed in again, taking your breath away and rocking your body.

“Oh god” you moaned as you felt him all the way in your stomach. It was painful but also incredibly erotic.

Tommy’s hands moved around and started kneading your breasts again, making you moan as you pushed back against him.

With every thrust, you could feel your elbows buckling a little, and your wrists were starting to hurt as you grasped the cedar and you did not like how that distracted you from the pleasure you were feeling. With that, you lowered yourself to your elbows, which had the pleasant effect of lifting your ass into a better position.

Liking your new position, Tommy slid back and put his hands on your hips so that he could admire the way his cock looked split open your pink pussy. He liked seeing you like this, taking him from behind and you moaned over and over again as you were impaled by his powerful thrusts.

Wetting his finger in his mouth, Tommy then pushed it against your yet still unexplored opening and was pleased to see that your body easily opened up and accepted it.

You were shocked and confused by what he was doing and, yet, your groans of pleasure got louder as he added a second finger.

“Oh god I feel so full” you moaned as you gave into the pleasure without thinking about how wrong it was and, after a little while, Tommy pulled his fingers from that tempting hole and used both his hands on your hips to pump you from behind even more powerfully, glorying in your cries of pleasure as he claimed you as his.

Soon, Tommy’s thrusts were coming harder and faster, and even though you were more stable on your elbows, you could feel him pushing you forward.

Reaching underneath your body, Tommy sought out your clit with his fingers, and you let out a cry of rapture as he began rubbing the engorged nub of pleasure. Your legs and arms trembled with the effort of holding yourself up as ecstasy threatened to overcome your senses, and Tommy continued to pound at you from the rear. As his fingers continued to rub, you could feel the heady tingling rush of your orgasm overtaking you, and you collapsed before him... he followed you down, his cock thrusting hard into your pussy and impaling you as you almost collapsed on the desk before him.

You could feel him growing bigger inside of you as you writhed with elated gratification, and your orgasm grew as, finally, you felt a strange but extremely pleasant sensation inside of you as Tommy was filling you with his seed.

It felt sensational and, whilst you were incredibly sore, you enjoyed the feeling of him inside of you like this and, after you finally came down from your high, you felt like your body was made of jelly. You felt so drained and shaky and then you moaned a little as Tommy’s lips and tongue pressed against your back, making your body jerk.

‘You did well Sweetheart. I quite enjoyed that’ he cooed before pulling his softening cock out of you and guiding you onto your feet, allowing you to turn around and catch your breath.

‘Oh god so did I” you barely managed to say and, just as you spoke, Tommy kissed you once more.

‘I have work to do now, but we should do this again sometime soon” he announced and you knew that this wasn’t going to be just a one-off encounter.

“I would like that Mr Shelby” you thus confirmed before retrieving your panties from the floor and putting them back on just before his cum could drip out of your well used hole.

“Good. Now clean yourself before you go back into the pool, eh” he smirked and you gave him a quick wink before you disappeared into the hallway.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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pedgito · 3 months

Text

MILLER'S GIRL ✎ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Three: Forbidden Fruit

Chapter Summary: Mr. Miller receives your assignment in it's full detailed exposé and despite his reaction, doesn't seem as pleased as you anticipated. It leads to a tense interaction that lands you in his office with more questions and confusion. [4k]

[student/teacher relationship, age gap, no outbreak, power dynamic]

Chapter Warnings: fem!reader, professor!joel miller (his teacher persona is v different from outside of the classroom, so if he seems slightly ooc....close your eyes), dom!joel, sub!reader, reader is a little obsessed with joel (and delusional), background tess x joel, inappropriate relationships/actions, masturbation (m), confrontations, joel manhandling reader (kinda roughly), panty ripping, one (1) forbidden kiss

— AO3 | PLAYLIST | PINTEREST

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec

Joel takes the plunge into the assignments the following night—it was a small class so he knew it wouldn’t take a large chunk of time, a couple hours at the end of his day and he’d have it out of the way and grades posted before the following morning. It was always easier to do things this way, hidden away in his office to force his focus and block out the rest of what was going on.

He flies through the assignments with a detailed precision, giving proper and full notes on things he thinks the students could work on or tweak, give some personal thoughts on creativity, and allow some encouragement where it was needed.

But, your name sits in the bottom of his inbox, bold lettered and unread—he saved it for last.

He could lie and say he didn’t do it on purpose, but he’s come to thoroughly enjoy your writing, so he pushes it off until it’s the final thing he has to grade that night. He knows Tess should be arriving home soon, so despite his want to give you his full, undivided attention—he intends to give it a quick skim.

Joel knows there’s no real notes he can give you. You always had a clear idea on your work, so meticulously planned out that it reminded him of himself in a way.

He takes a sip of the quickly dissipating bourbon in the cup sitting on his desk, ice clinking against the glass as he clicks on your essay and watches it expand onto the screen.

He likes to jot down his thoughts on paper as he goes, making it easier to format and type as he replies—he grips the pencil tight, reading the title of your essay.

ill-suited innocence

In a crowd she finds herself searching, looking for him. Days and days of tense glances and inappropriate thoughts—he must share them too? While she can’t be bothered by the fantasy of mythical creatures and things that only made sense in fiction, she did believe in the fantasy of wanting what she couldn’t have. Him.

Much older, wiser—grim around the eyes and a deep sorrow that burrowed its way into his chest and made home. He couldn’t fix himself, but she could. At least, she thinks she could.

Joel straightened his back, leaning into the screen to assure himself he wasn’t misreading. It was…an interesting take on the assignment he gave you, but he’ll bite. He’s used to your stuff being a little more unorthodox.

Something along the lines of forbidden fantasy? A tale of love? It wasn’t his particular choice of fiction but he wasn’t opposed to it. He squints, reading more.

He drops the pencil for a moment

Their lives mundane and unassuming, they traverse through life with little enjoyment. Two sides of the same coin and he was too oblivious to realize. He offered smiles and kind words, guidance that seemed from a good place but only allowed her to feel more misdirection. He was an enigma, difficult to decipher and she craved him.

And though he tries to fight whatever attraction he may feel, she can see it in his tense gaze. The lingering touches he leaves on her body. Secret meetings, talks that allowed themselves to be more deep than should be allowed. He was allowing her in little by little but she needed more.

She just had to ask, so she did.

Joel feels a tightening deep in his gut that wasn’t there before, reading between the lines of text and allowing faint glimpses of memories with you to match themselves with the words—his brow furrowing under the guise of…anger? No, frustration. He shouldn’t be equating his perfectly…appropriate relationship with you to this. In fact, it shouldn’t cross his mind. But, it does.

All of this from a dream? He could lie and say he wasn't intrigued, but that wasn't the case.

Joel doesn’t expect the full 180 turn as he glances down at the chunk of text that follows.

“You’re my student,” He whispers to her, “I can’t allow this.”

She bites at her lip, noticing the subtle click of his heels as they hit the floor, back them against his desk as she takes a seat, plastic cup full of pencils falling to the floor but neither of their eyes leaving each other.

“You can,” She encourages, “I’m hardly a student anymore. I’m a friend. We’re friends, right?”

And given his ability to let her in so easily, he also considered her a friend. Naively. He’s gotten himself into this position and he can’t find a reason to not give her what she wants—what he wants.

He captures her lips in a searing kiss, much less polite than a friend would, her fingers quickly undoing his belt—

Joel feels his cock hardening under the confines of his slacks, clearing his throat slightly. He should stop reading—he knows he should. The glaringly obvious lines being crossed are blurred for a moment. He shouldn’t have led you on like this, allowed you to cook up some depraved illusion of what you thought things could be.

Because they couldn’t. That wasn’t what this was. Joel had told himself over and over—he was helping. He didn’t think you’d take advantage of the scenario like this. Still, he finds himself loosening the buckle of his belt as well, unzipping his pants enough that he can stuff his hand into the tight space between his bare cock and briefs, palming himself impatiently.

And he skims—words sticking and fading in his mind. It starts of with a slow, sensual make out and a messily described handjob that has his cocking throbbing with every tight stroke he pulls at his shaft, eventually tired of fighting the tight space he’s allowed with his slacks making it impossible to move, he leans back and pulls his cock out far enough that he has free, unrestrained range. The bourbon glass leaves a sweat ring on the oak of his desk but Joel can’t be bothered, he scrolls down further, taking in the last few scenes that allowed him a full idea of just what exactly you thought was going on between the both of you. Or, what you wanted to happen.

He allows himself a moment to slip out of his headspace and imagine, selfishly.

Bent over the desk, items scattered to the floor he pulled at her skirt, something she wore necessarily—easy access, she whispered against his lips before he bent her fully over the desk, chest pressed against the solid wood.

Joel imagines it vividly, his breath quickening as he tugs at his cock in rough, fast strokes and pictures it—you, bent over his desk and your ass presented to him like a prize and how good it would feel to squeeze the flesh between his hands. He knows your sounds would be sweet, divine, and it drives him wild.

He’s thought about you before like this, hand wrapped around his cock, but never in full detail as you’d written out.

And then he slips his cock inside of her, a small gasp of, “Just like that, professor.” falling from her lips and it only spurs Joel deeper into his despair, tugging himself until he feels his orgasm creeping up on him, a churning in his gut that feels too good to quit and he reads out the last few lines, as he comes deep inside of, recklessly and without much decision making.

He thought you were smarter than this. Expected more out of you.

There’s a creak of a floorboard down the hall that sends his world crashing down on him, dampening his orgasm almost immediately as he scrambles to shove himself back inside of his slacks, buttoning and buckling his belt hastily as he clicks out of his browsers and feigns exhaustion, Tess’s fingers curling around the doorknob as she peeks her head in, watching as Joel’s fingers circled the glass of liquor.

God, he hates her.

Not you. Tess.

He figured his reasoning was valid, but truthfully—he just couldn’t stand her any longer. He's been battling the decision to go through with his divorce, but this seemed like as big a sign as ever. It's the unbridled rage he was tired of harboring around her, trying to act like things were fine.

Nothing was fine and his life was imploding.

He was lusting after a student and worse, he know you were after him—actively, clear in the boldness you showed through your assignment.

He thinks back briefly on the video call that he shouldn’t have allowed, your question that seemed…vague but unassuming. Had you planned this the entire time?

Was he just that stupid to not see it?

“Coming to bed tonight?” Tess asks hesitantly.

Joel offers a clear and concise, “No.”

He wasn’t sure if he could even sleep, contemplating over how to handle this…situation.

He couldn’t allow it to stray further.

It would damage his career and ruin his life.

But truthfully, he felt like he’d already reached that point, so what did he have to lose?

You wake up on Monday with a deep pit in your chest, knowing that grades were posted that morning. You knew it was a risk, being so open with him—but he couldn’t fail you. You followed the parameters of the assignment and made sure to clear the few questions you had with him.

Part of you is expecting another email from his private account, wondering his thoughts beyond what he would address appropriately. But, the moment your eyes drag along the screen, still blurry from sleep, you feel your heart stop.

0/100. A complete failure.

No comment besides—Rewrite and resend immediately. No extension. Due by the end of the day.

Your jaw clenches in frustration.

Oh, you were not being ignored that easily.

You storm into his room later that day during your free hour for lunch, knowing he’d be saddled up at his desk eating his own lunch.

You couldn’t even think about eating, full of anger and annoyance that kept you full and ready to strike. He can hear your footsteps before you approach and is wiping at his mouth with a napkin when you stop at his desk.

He holds a hand up, face steely and emotionless.

For a moment, you think he might break. Crack a smile and say it was an excuse to get you here.

Instead, he has your essay printed out and ready to shove at you, your fingers curling around the stack and crinkling the edges.

“You can’t fail me,” You start tensely, “I did your stupid assignment and I followed the steps you asked for.”

“I expect a new one by the end of the day. Appropriate to the topic. End of discussion.”

You scoff, not daring to look at the glaring zero he drew out on the paper just to prove a point. It lands in the trash as you throw it down, “No.”

Joel’s chair squeaks as he rises and it startles you slightly, and suddenly he’s invading your space, the muscles in his neck tightening as he pointed an accusatory finger at the trashed papers.

“In what situation did you think any of that was appropriate to write and send to your professor?” Joel asks, noting the way you blink quickly, backing away slightly.

He almost…feels bad? No. He quickly wipes the thought away as more anger crosses your face, eyes dilating in rage.

You lean in slightly, thankful that the halls were quiet around this time of day and that you had closed the door behind you.

“You started this,” You argue, “You crossed that line when you messaged me on a private email. Telling me that you liked the time we spent together. I’m your student—maybe you should’ve taken that into account first.”

His fist clenched at his side, almost to restrain himself, knowing he’d rather shove that finger into your chest and blame you. But, you were both to blame. And he even more so. Still, he doubles down.

“Rewrite it or I’ll fail you for the entire semester.”

Your mouth gapes open, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“That’s…completely unfair.” You settle, voice softer as you drop the act. “I just—”

“Rewrite it.” Joel responds firmly.

“Mr. Miller—” You begin, trying to find a feasible way to get him to listen.

“Or I fail you.” He says with finality. “You’re lucky I don’t take this to the board.”

Which, he never would. He’s just as much at fault. But, he’s taking his frustration out on you. An easy target, slim pickings.

You weren’t playing into that though, not now.

“You won’t,” You challenge him, “because if you do—I can assure you, you won’t appreciate the results.”

It was a threat. Cold and plain.

“Rewrite it,” He reiterates again, his voice softer now. “I have to submit these assignments at the end of the semester and if—that cannot be in there. I need a real essay. Real. Not some fucking delusion.”

It’s the first time he’s talked so…out of term. It feels like him, the real Mr. Miller.

Fine—you’ll write the goddamn essay as he intended. You roll your eyes and Joel relaxes slightly, seeing your defeat as you settle your shoulders back.

“I want it on my desk by the end of day.”

Sure, you could manage that.

If anything, it gave you more of an excuse to drag out his torture a little longer.

You spend the entirety of his class working out a new essay, bullshitting your way through an hour of class and typing up something feasible enough to get you a decent grade, knowing that his views of you were already tainted. But, that didn’t matter.

You had plans.

When evening rolls around and classes are finally done for the day, you make the long trek across campus to his class, finding it empty but spotting the light in his private office is still on, a low and muted orange that shined through the window. You approach slowly and knock on the door, hearing his muffled greeting on the other side.

You peek inside, noting his position as he rests with his fist pressed against the side of his face, seemingly nursing a headache as he rubs the fingers of his free hand over his forehead and sighs, closing his laptop as you hold out the small stack of papers for him to grab. He does, skimming through it briefly. You toss your bag off your shoulder and rest it in a nearby chair, standing quietly.

“Something bothering you?” You ask politely, hands crossed over your front as fiddled idly with your fingers, “Mr. Miller?”

He looks up tensely, eyes darkened and foreboding.

“What did you mean earlier?” He asks suddenly, reading your essay with a careful eye. Scribbling something down before he pushes it away, fingers clasped together under his chin as he gives you his full attention. “That I wouldn’t…appreciate the results?”

“Oh, that was—”

A threat. He knows it. You know it.

And he voices it.

“It was a threat, wasn’t it?” He asks coarsely, his voice sounding rough.

He seemed worse for wear, with good reason.

The dignified squeak of his chair is like deja-vu but you don’t back away this time, turning to him as he rounds his desk—his tie is gone, starch pressed shirt unbuttoned to a dangerous degree and his belt is missing, your eyes tracking it in a nearby corner where it’s slung over an empty chair.

He allowed you in here, the small glimpse of his relaxed state. He wasn’t shutting you out necessarily, which was good. But, you still felt unwanted. It was almost like he was dangling a myriad of fruit in front of you, ripe for the taking, but riddled with poison. Forbidden.

“No—”

He grabs your wrist suddenly, tight and gasp-inducing as he pulls it up until it’s level between you both, right at chest level and you’re waiting for him to let go, but he doesn’t.

“Tell. The. Truth.” He says pointedly, a small jerk of your arm with every syllable as he pulls you undoubtedly closer, “I want to hear it.”

Instead of admitting that you did openly threaten him, you switch gears.

“What? That I want you to fuck me?” You ask innocently, pulling your wrist away harshly. “Joel, come on—don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”

His name is like a gut-punch, a reminder that he gave you that information under the idea that you would keep it safe, but now you were using it against him.

“Don’t—” He warns and your hands press into his crisp button-up, scrunching the fabric in an effort to wrinkle it, feeling the solid press of muscle under your hands that makes your mouth water, eyes widening slightly at the touch and for a split second, he allows it.

He had to escape the situation before he acted on something he would regret.

“Get out.” Joel responds through gritted teeth, shoving your hands away harshly and in turn, forcing you back a few steps with the urgency of it. “Now.”

Still, you step closer, chest against chest as you can feel the distinct bulge in his slacks against your front, tongue clicking in your mouth as you cocked your head to the side mockingly, a finger tracing along the buttons of his shirt until you can curl the tip of it around the hem of his pants.

“You can do it, you know,” You offer, “You could fuck me right now and I wouldn’t tell a soul, not even your wife—or…ex-wife? I’m not sure since you never wear your ring.”

Fuck this and her smart ass mouth, Joel thinks.

Joel’s nostrils flare and he snaps, backing you into the wall by his hand pressed against your chest, the bookshelf beside you shaking with the force. His hands creep up your neck, pressing rigid against the skin and he keeps you there, trapped.

“I can feel it,” You tease through strained vocal cords, his finger squeezing against your neck–not quite cutting off air flow, but the pressure is there and you feel it. It makes your head swim, squirming against his hold as he shifts closer, body pressed against your own firmly, “is that why you asked me to turn the paper in by the end of the day? You wanted me here, didn’t you? I guess my essay did strike a nerve after all.”

The laugh that follows is sickening, a grin appearing under his sneer. His fingers move up a few inches to grip your face. Hard. Squeezing until he feels the solid press of your cheekbones under his thumb and he speaks, so quietly into the space you can barely hear him, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Your eyes drift to his, his head tilting up slightly away from your ear that he had whispered into and there’s glint in your eye. It’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted to burrow yourself under his skin so he couldn't get rid of you.

He feels your fingers continue to trace along the seam of his shirt, tracing over the bumps of the material until you meet his slacks, pressing your palm flat over his cock, hardened under the material and straining–and he can’t help the way his breath intakes sharply, the full body restraint it takes to not rut into your hand. He knows he has the upper hand here, but with the small amount of effort it takes to break his revere for himself, he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep this up.

“I would,” You nod slowly, eyebrows furrowing as he tightens his grip with your admittance and in turn, you squeeze him just a little harder. He hisses and leans in, letting go of your face to return to your neck–he isn’t squeezing this time, but his hand is a solid presence. You move, he moves. And if he doesn’t like how you move, you would end up exactly where he wants you to, “Come on, Joel. You read all about it. I can do so much more than whatever your wife is doing—isn’t that why you reached out to me?”

“Don’t—stop saying my name.” He warns, trying to keep what little line of professionalism he had between you there, unblurred. “I reached out to help. As your mentor.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s a few things you could teach me.” You say sweetly, the deft sound of his zipper being undone by your hand, popping the button on his pants, “Joel, please.”

He stops your hand in it’s decent, fingers tracing along the hem of his underwear before he’s gripping your arm and turning you with little resistance on your end, front pressed harshly against the stucco wall, a sharp gasp emitting from your throat as he crowds you in again, whispering harshly into your ear, “Mr. Miller. Not Joel. You don’t get that privilege. And stop talking about my fucking wife.”

You moan brokenly at the feeling of his cock pressed against your ass, skirt riding up your thighs and you were sure—positive that Joel could see the fabric of your underwear clinging to your hips from how high up and mused your skirt was now, but he can’t take his eyes of your face, anger emitting from his own and suffocating you like a blanket.

You were pressing his buttons just right and he hated it.

“So, no marital troubles then?” You pester him and he shuts you up immediately, palm covering your mouth tightly as his free hand grips at the hem of your underwear at your hip and tugs—yep, he saw them. Some soft color, all lacy, meant to be attention-grabbing. And if Joel couldn’t have you the way he truly desires, he’d make you wish you could have it even worse than he wanted it. “You—huh, you can’t even wear your wedding ring, Mr. Miller—don’t lie to me.”

He pulls at the material of your panties until they’re riding up your ass slightly, pulled tighter against your cunt and the drag of the material against your clit is almost unexpected. He’s pointedly avoiding touching you so intimately, teetering on the edge of not enough and too much.

“You thought it would be that easy?” Joel asks testingly, jerking your head slightly when you don’t answer. You figured it was redundant but clearly not. You mumble against his hand, overwhelmed by his touch that all you can do is nod, forehead pressed against the wall as he breathes down your neck. “You’re mistaken.”

There’s a distinct rip of fabric as he removes his hand from your mouth quickly using his hands to grip your panties in tight fists, tearing it apart as it falls from your body and you think he might just do it—shove his slacks just far enough down his thighs and slip inside of you, bring an end to all of your suffering.

And his own.

Instead his fingers tighten around your forearm, spinning you in his hold and shoving the ripped fabric into your hand, leaving you bare under your skirt and exposed and Joel doesn’t mistake the wetness on the material. His fingers linger over your palm and you scoff, adjusting your skirt and slightly skewed shirt.

“Keep them,” You challenge, shoving the material into his chest before he allows them to drop to the floor, eyes trailing your departing figure as you reach for your discarded bag, “a gift for your wife—you know, the one who you avoided to spend time with me. Right?”

You want the words to linger and sting, bag slung lazily around your shoulder as you depart for the door, ignoring the quickly approaching footsteps. Joel, unbeknownst to you, had already pocketed your panties, torn to shreds in the pocket of his slacks. But, the words cut deep and he can’t leave things like this and allow you the final word.

Joel yanks the strap of your bag and backs you against the office door, the wood rattling against your conjoined weight as his lips press against yours in haste, messy and uncoordinated but your brain quickly assess what’s happening and joins, your lips parting to allow his eager tongue into your mouth. His kiss is biting and furious, mean and full of nothing but tense emotion. It’s months of suffocated lust pouring into you, out of him, and you swallow it down eagerly. His hand holds your chin forcefully, sloppy exchanges of spit and forceful bites, a battle for dominance that Joel quickly won out on.

And you think that maybe that comment was the final straw, that he might just give you what you want, but your delicate moan that slips into his mouth as chase him, his head pulling back slightly at the noise—it had him falling back to reality, right on his ass.

There wasn’t any line left to cross anymore. He’d obliterated it.

“Don’t threaten me again,” He warns, “ever.”

There’s one solid shove against the door as your head hits the surface gently, his touch quickly dissipating and his disheveled appearance a tell-tale sign in your mind. He was fighting his own battle and losing terribly.

“Of course,” You agree sardonically, “Mr. Miller.”

The silent click of the door is deafening and Joel retreats to his desk, punching a fist into the solid wood, the papers of your assignment flying to the floor. He can't be bothered to pick them up or even allow them the proper glance they deserve.

Because you—in his mind, don't deserve it.

And he's not going to give you that satisfaction.

It's unprofessional, but he'll allow it this once. It only takes a few quick clicks and he's adjusting the assignment out for your new one.

Poof. Gone. Like it never existed.

But, the grade is unchanging and he knows that will make things tremendously worse, but he can't be bothered to care anymore.

You'd be back and that's exactly what he wants.

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