#and if i want another job i have to go through the whole fucking job hunt again which SUCKS
Note
lene we need some 80s slasher JB!!!
ohh shure! he gives creepy summer camp counselor vibes - 80s!slasher!john b
₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, blood, violence, death, threats, slapping, spitting, obsessed!john b - ₊˚⊹
you'd gotten the most perfect job for the summer as a camp counselor at a sleep-away summer camp. after meeting everyone at the orientation you've become close to another counselor who will be working with you, john b.
he was in charge of the boy's cabin and you the girls, and your groups would meet up for activities, bonfires, smores, and lunch. he'd honestly grown really attached to you since you were always doing things together, whenever he'd see you chatting with another guy he'd feel possessive and you weren't even dating! yet john b would also embarrassingly get hard watching you slide down your shorts, staring at how tight your bikini bottoms fit around your ass. he'd spend that night in his cabin jerking off, picturing your pretty body bouncing on top of him, wishing he could grab fistfuls of your ass. he'd finish in his fist all sweaty and out of breath.
you sat at your group's table in the mess hall facing john b's table, both of you making eye contact every few seconds.
when the dessert was ready, each table was called to go pick up their plate of cherry pie with vanilla ice cream. john b's eyes followed your figure as you walked up to the counter, waiting until all the little girls got their slices. one of the guys that was working inside the kitchen, clearly flirting with you, asks if you want some. you decline with a smile but the young man insists, saying he made it himself, he lifts up the fork with a piece of the warm pie and dripping ice cream to your lips. you indulge him by opening your mouth and closing it around the fork, swallowing the desert you widen your eyes and nod. "it's really good!" you smile, the guy's hand reaching out to swipe the little bit of ice cream that stayed on the edge of your lip.
watching this, john b was furious, letting that fucking feed you, touch your lips....
that night, the little girls knock on your cabin door, right next to theirs. they complain that they heard someone scream coming from the mess hall and are too scared to sleep. you tell them it's probably nothing and to go back to sleep, that you'll check it out.
the girls do as they're told and you walk over to the mess hall and walk inside the dark space to see what could have been the noise, hearing some sort of noise coming from inside the kitchen you figure it could be an animal that got inside, you press your ear to the swinging door honestly too scared to actually look inside.
the door then swings open, causing you to stumble back and meet eyes with john b, with blood on his shirt, hands, and on the knife in his hands. you stand there confused...'did he cut himself?' you think, then you see it, through the open door is the pie guy dead on the floor with his blood pooling around his body. john b's hand is quick to cover your mouth before you can scream, "shshsh, you don't need to do that bub, you're fine." he whispers, maintaining eye contact with you.
you nod your head slowly, chest heaving.
"i'm gonna let go now okay? need you to be quite f'me, can you do that?" he raises his eyebrows and you nod again, he takes his hand off our mouth. "m'gonna need to take your clothes off...got blood on them..." he tells you rather than asks you, he raises the knife and cuts your top up the middle.
"john b? what's going on..." you whisper, clearly scared.
"i can't wait anymore, you drive me crazy, i need to do this." he rambles while tugging off your shorts rather roughly.
"john b did you stab the kitchen b-" he cuts you off with a rough kiss to keep you quiet. he manhandles you over one of the tables and lifts you on top, facing him.
you whine as he brings the knife up to your face.
"don't scream, don't want to whole camp to hear you, n'i don't want to hurt you pup"
you nod, tears spilling down your cheeks as he cuts your panties to get access to your hot messy pussy.
"awww she's so pretty..." he coos, his big rough fingers slowly rubbing your clit, making you mewl.
"jombee...i don't wanna...you killed someone!" you shake your head, almost hyperventilating crying.
"hey, nuh uh, stop that." he pats your face to get you to listen to him. you watch as he pulls off his bloody shirt and unzips his shorts and pulls himself out, your eyes widening at the size. "he's not the only one i killed." he looks back into your eyes and you swear your heartbeat sped up and so did the pulsing of your cunt.
"you're a murderer johnbee," you whisper but then gasp when you feel him start to push in, stretching your pussy.
"i know, m'really mean, huh puppy?" he pouts mockingly and pinches one of your nipples making you squeal.
"don't like being mean to you, but when you walk around acting like an angel, when i know you're a little tease...kinda have'ta put you in your place," he grunts, pounding into hard now, you can see the little bulge in your tummy.
"i wasn't! i didn't mean to be! i didn't do anything!" you sob, one hand grabbing onto the table and the other hand gripping his bicep. blood sorta covering both of you from where he had touched you, he grabs your face with his hand and forces you to look at him.
"wish you could be my good girl right now n'just take. it." he thrusts harder with his last two words. you wish you could scream at how scared you are of him but also at how good it feels.
"open." he grunts, squeezing your jaw a little. you shake your head no as best you can, causing him to let go of your jaw and slap you, making your drooly cunt clench around him. "m'not asking again." he grabs your jaw again, and you open your mouth, and he spits into it making you whine in disgust. "swallow." you do as your told and swallow tears continuing to fall.
"that's how a dumb little doggy gets treated, they get spit on." he grins and pulls out of you, manhandles you off the table, and bends you over, tits and face pressed against the wood.
"nooo...no.." you drool onto the table.
he bends down a bit to be right in front of your ass and spits on your other tight little hole, watching as his spit drips down to your pussy. you squeeze your eyes shut at the feeling and sob a little louder.
he stands up straight again and reaches around to pat your sloppy little cunt now covered in his spit, and slides his cock back in.
"s-so gross..." you mewl, making him laugh quietly, bringing the back of his bloody hand up to your face.
"cum around me or i'll smear this on your face, you want that? hmm? some guy's blood on your face?" he threatens. "c'mon..." he bends down to press icky wet kisses to your cheek that instantly cum on on him, pulsing and squeezing him as your mind goes dumb. his big hand covering your mouth as you moan.
"there she is, good girl...yeaaah" he praises, thrusting into you more sloppily until he's pumping you full, flooding your poor little pussy.
after a few seconds, he pulls out and uses his tip to smear yours and his cum around your pussy lips.
"here." he hands you his bloody shirt for you to put on knowing it'll cover you enough to get back to your cabin decent, you pull his shirt over your head and make sure it covers your ass.
"we'll talk more tomorrow, okay sweetie? gotta go...clean that up." he tilts his head toward the body. "goodnight kiss?" he bits his lip, squinting his eyes, taunting you. you stand there lifting your head, he leans down to give you one last kiss on your lips, a string of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away. ᥫ᭡
#gardengirl'sobx!⋆₊ ⊹#lenepilar'sobx!⋆₊ ⊹#cw blood#cw spit#cw blo0d#80s!slasher!john b#john b prompt#john b blurb#john b outer banks#john b smut#john b#john b x reader#john b routledge#outer banks smut#dark!john b#80s!slasher!au#80s!john b#outerbanks imagine#outerbanks x reader#jj maybank x reader#rafe cameron x reader#obx smut#jj maybank smut
138 notes
·
View notes
Text
This Week in BL - Lesbians WIN & I'm excited about a Thai BL again!
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
April 2024 Wk 4
Ongoing Series - Thai
My Stand-In (Thai Fri iQIYI) ep 1 of 12 eps - Adaptation of Chinese novel Professional Body Double by Shui Qiang Cheng. Stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please) directed by the same team as KP (not a recommendation IMHO - my biggest criticism of KP was the clashing directing styles). The MDL description made it sound complicated af but actually it's not so bad. In fact it's GOOD.
Stuntman Joe dies on the job and wakes up in the body of another Joe who has an entirely different life. But our Joe just gets his new body right back into his old existence, full of friends, enemies, and one troublesome ex. Poom is absolutely killing it in the lead. Mek is perfectly cast as the Actor du Jerk. I’m not sold on Up’s bratty brokenhearted rich kid... yet. The show though, I like it. I like a one (two) night stand starting things off and I like a lot of morally gray characters. Fun fun!
Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 8fin - The lesbian moms are the cutest thing in the world and my favorite thing this week. Bar none.
Summation:
It's about a host club and all the gay boys in it and some stuff that's not important because... PEOPLE OF EARTH WE HAVE A HONEST REP OF POLY IN A BL. Stand up and raise your hands in prayer to the Thai BL gods because sure as shit no one else was ever going to give this to us. For that alone this show gets 8/10 from me. Bonus Lesbian moms and great kisses.
Two Worlds (Thurs iQIYI) ep 7 of 10 - Say what you want about MaxNat all these years that they've been paired makes them great onscreen boyfriends. And you know me, I'm a total sucker for linguistic negotiation. Makes my heart go all mushy. That said, now that the leads are together, I’m really uninterested in all the drama around the ex-boyfriend/triangle. I'm glad this is only 10 eps.
1000 Years Old (Thurs iQIYI) ep 11 of 12 - They gave me the tiniest teaser for the kinky vampire BL that I have wanted my whole life. And now I'm just fucking annoyed with the rest of the show.
We Are (Weds iQIYI) ep 3-4 of 16 - Q & Toey are the only interesting thing going on. I actually didn’t like this pair in My School President, but I’m enjoying them here. The others are all fine but these two have my heart. I have questions like: did Phum ever get his shopping bags back? And why is Phum driving a different colored car half way through the ep?
Only Boo! (Sun YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - The quality is good (it’s GMMTV) but the acting is... not. Still I loved that Moo just made the confession for both of them. Very in character. Does this plot remind anyone else of Footloose? Just me? Side couple was cute but now a bit too stalker for me.
Ongoing Series - Not Thai
Unknown (Taiwan Tues YouTube & Viki) ep 10 of 12 - It’s fantastic. Such a great show. We are so lucky. This is basically Taiwan’s The Eights Sense. I didn’t know they had it in them, but I’m really glad that they did.
Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - As JBL’s go this is way more my speed (than Alaska). It’s just so sweet and awkward but charming about it. The confession was so earnest.
Blue Boys (Korea YouTube) 2 of ? No MDL link - It’s very sexy this one. Not sure what Korea thinks it's doing, but I’m not mad about it.
Gray Shelter (Korea Thurs iQIYI) ep 5fin - summation: About a slacker nursing a crush on the (brief) older stepbrother who abandoned him. Upon finding him again he moves in with him, upends the mans lost suffering life. A dark gritty piece with confusing subs making it too chewy to really grok. It's trying to do too much for its length. The tension is real and the acting is good, it's just everything else stymied clean execution of the core concept. Frankly I spent this show expecting (and wanting them) to just fall into bed together - in a kind of desperate fight sex. It didn’t happen, and I’m disappointed by the non-ending we got. (Whether it’s going to have more in the series or not.) 7/10 I'm open to changing the rank if a part two fixes this one's flaws.
Boys Be Brave AKA Roommates (Korea Thurs Viki) ep 1-2 of 8 - Oh dear. Terrible hair. Jock nerd pairing. OCD baby cakes. Cohabitation trope. Killer side couple. Def unhinged.
At 25:00 in Alaska AKA 25 Ji Akasaka de (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 2 of 10 - I’m still genuinely not sure about this one. It’s just a little too awkward for me in the wrong way. I expect all Japanese BL to have a certain aura of awkwardness so I don’t know what it is about this one turnign me off. I do enjoy that we’re getting both stories, the one between the actors, and a little bit of the roles that they’re playing on screen but... yeah
Love is like a Cat (Korea Mon Viki) eps 7-8 of 12 - The leads finally had a moment but there is negative chemistry. Why am I watching this?
It's airing but...
Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.
Memory in the Letter (Thai WeTV) - 6 eps, when it's done, tell me if I should bother?
In case you missed it
Kiseki Chapter 2 (Sun iQIYI) 6 eps - finished its run but I won't be finishing it. Stays dropped.
GMMTV announced the second half of their 2024 line up. I got excited and picked my favorites, details + trailers here. Basically my ranking is:
The Heart Killers
ThamePo
Revamp
Sweet Tooth
Perfect 10 Liners
The Ex-Morning
Ossan’s Love Thailand
Next Week Looks Like This:
IMG
What happened?
Knock-Knock Boys (Thai WeTV) - 4 college friends conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. Familiar faces like Seng (yes, Billy's previous pairing) and Best, news here. But will it actually air this month?
Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENT
I have adopted him. He is MINE. I love him, your honor. (The Stand In)
I love the SO MUCH. (Deep Night)
(Last week)
Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire
If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.
#this week in BL#BL updates#Two Worlds#Deep Night review#Unknown the series#My Stand-In#Gray Shelter review#Living With Him#Kare no Iru Seikatsu#1000 Years Old#At 25:00 in Alaska#Love Is like a Cat#Boys Be Brave#BL series review#upcoming BL#BL news#BL reviews#BL gossip#Thai BL#Japanese BL#live action yaoi#Taiwanese BL#Koren BL#BL starting soon#BL coming soon#Blue Boys
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
#ACLA24#ACLA24Leaders#youtube#youtube video#climate leaders#climate solutions#climate action#climate and environment#climate#climate change#climate and health#climate blog#climate justice#climate news#weather and climate#environmental news#environment#environmental awareness#environment and health#environmental#environmental issues#environmental justice#environment protection#environmental health#Youtube
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
Helpless part 40, It is very often nothing but our own vanity that deceives us
"Neeks, you awake?"
"What time is it?" The Hades child mumbled, pushing his hair out of his face.
"11:24."
"How the fuck am I still tired?"
"Because you still need to catch up on sleep and you're off drugs medical and others after a while so you're still adjusting."
"I'll be honest I didn't process half of that." Will rolled his eyes teasingly, walking over to mess up his hair more than it already was. Will started to look through some files he'd brought in with himself as Nico started to get ready,
"Can I braid your hair?"
"You know how to braid?"
"Not very well, but Kayla made me learn a few years ago before she had to let Aussi cut her hair on a dare."
"I can imagine how well that went, but sure." Will sat next to him, brushing out and parting his hair before starting to do a french braid. "Do you have the second volume of Heartstopper?" Will laughed, quickly kissing Nico on the cheek.
"I can't believe I thought you were straight but yes, I have all the books."
"I can't believe I thought you were straight."
"Think you were the only one Neeks."
"Oh shut up Solace."
"Don't think I will di Angelo."
"Gods save me."
"What do you want to eat?"
"Nothing." He answered almost instantly,
"Not an option."
"I'm not hungry." He promptly ignored him and pulled out three ceral bars from his pocket,
"Pick one."
"Leave me alone."
"Do you feel sick?"
"I- I- just... can't, drop it William."
"I'll leave them here, just eat when you can, alright?" He said, half hugging him.
"Fine."
"Nico, have you considered talking to someone? Maybe keeping a journal as well?"
"Only if you'll also get help." He couldn't think of something he wanted to do less but Will needed help, desperately.
"It's not your job to worry about me."
"Will, I'm your boyfriend, it really is."
"Are you comfortable with the idea of talking to someone?" He was fine, he knew he was worthless what's the point of lying to himself.
"N-no." Fuck, this wasn't going the way he hoped.
"Nico, you don't need to do anything that you aren't comfortable with, that won't help. Also... I'm sorry about last night.. I- it's- yeah I'm just sorry."
"Will, no one's perfect, you need help, please, just try to."
"Neeks, I'm fine, really. I was just shocked last night and yeah, there have been a lot of people in the infirmary because of the war normally it's just less hectic." Lying through his teeth, he hated himself for it but that's fine, just another thing to add to the endless list. He wasn't Nico's responsibility, he doesn't need anything else on his mind.
"Just, take a break every now and then, I swear you're always working."
"Actually Kayla's ban me from working for the rest of the week soooooo."
"Good, you need it. Wait does that mean I don't get to see you for a week?"
"Nope, you can't get rid of me that easily. Apparently I'm too much of a simp for that, but I have a feeling she's timing it to make sure I don't spend the whole day here."
"I can see that happening, but you need a break so she is completely right."
"I really hate you sometimes di Anglo."
"I know." He whispers, blowing the son of Apollo a kiss.
"Solace, times up!"
"Better go Sunshine, also... I'll try journaling, I don't know if it'll help but I'll try."
"I'm proud of you Neeks," He ruffled his hair before pressing a soft kiss to his lips, he kissed him back, wrapping his hands around his neck."I'll see you soon."
***
#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson fandom#nico di angelo#pjo#fanfic#will solace#solangelo#annabeth chase#fanfiction#percy jackson fanfic#percy jackson fan fiction#percy jackson fic#percy jackson fanfiction#percyjackson#fan fic writing#fan fic#fan fiction#solangelo fic#my fic#fic writing#solangelo fanfic#solangelo fanfiction#gay#leo valdez#reyna avila ramirez arellano#jason grace#piper mclean#frank zhang#hazel levesque
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#i started a new job and i already don’t like the vibes#it starts early and it’s super competitive#i haven’t been gendered correctly once#(despite my pronouns being in my zoom name)#it feels like people are going out of their way to gender me wrong#i started with a black guy whose name is similar to (but different from!!!) a much more common name and so many people mispronounce it#(even tho the spelling is different)#everyone thinks they’re so smart and just fucking condescends to me#(i’m obviously learning from them but the way they fucking talk!!)#im just kind of grappling with the fact that this is what my life will look like for the foreseeable future#and it’s making me fucking sad#i was excited to take this job bc it would leave my evenings free for me to do standup more often#but they lied about both the hours and the amount of physical labor involved and i’m worried i won’t have the time/energy to do that either#and if i want another job i have to go through the whole fucking job hunt again which SUCKS#anyways
1 note
·
View note
Text
one more rant about my layoff in the tags and then i’ll shut up i promise
#my mom is telling me to apply for unemployment and i’m so overwhelmed even thinking abt it#the guy from payroll who so nicely told me about the layoff sent me a link for it like that’s the natural next step#but like i’m not planning on staying unemployed for more than like a week i’m planning on applying for another job in a few days#so i feel like it’s not even worth it but at the same time i do need money bc the timing of this was terrible#BUT idk if i’m even eligible for unemployment bc i have a second job#i’m on demand there so i only work like once every couple months but it’s still a job so i’m not technically unemployed yk#and i was going through the eligibility requirements online and i can’t find anything related to that one way or the other#i want to just say fuck it and not worry about it#but is that stupid bc i currently only have like one job in mind to apply for and i don’t even know if they’re hiring yet#i feel like i’m being dumb and picky bc i’m still in college so it’s not like it’s a career thing i just need a job for now#preferably retail bc that’s what i’ve always done and i’m extremely opposed to the idea of a serving job#anyway it shouldn’t really matter that much bc it’s gonna be temporary#but i’m not the type to change jobs often (i’ve only ever had 2 and they’re the one i got laid off from and the one i’m still on demand at)#so wherever i end up working i’m planning on staying for at least a couple years so i want it to be something i at least somewhat enjoy#it just sucks so much having to go through this whole process#bc i was planning on staying at this last job until i finished school and possibly longer#and now i don’t have that option bc they let me go with no warning and no explanation#and i loved that job so i’ve been extremely depressed ever since i got the call#which just makes the whole unemployment/applying for new jobs thing so much harder#and i wish i could stop whining about it but it’s literally all i can think about i’m just! so unhappy rn!#vent#lj.txt
0 notes
Text
so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.
this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.
somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.
i used betterhelp.
i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.
the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.
they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.
the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.
i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."
i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.
the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.
i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.
in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.
the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.
betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.
i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.
there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.
in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.
i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.
#writeblr#the book....#coming soon#hey so if ur someone who has ever said “you need to write a book”#i wrote the book#it's ... probably the best thing ive ever written#this is maybe too honest lol#okay to reblog thank you for asking i love u i am in love with u our wedding will be in may
10K notes
·
View notes
Text
Brand Spanking New
Description: You unlock a new kink with your boyfriend Eddie: Spanking.
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I will clobber you (and not in a good way), established relationship, sub fem reader x dom Eddie, spanking, hair pulling, p in v unprotected sex, rough but aftercare
A/N: My phone keeps changing the word ‘spanking’ to ‘Spanish’. Don't you know me at all???? Also just trying to break writer's block by slamming out a lil smutty smut. Enjoy!
Reblogs and comments supply the oil that keeps the cogs and springs in my steampunk heart running.
1.2k words
Masterlist
Grinding hot and heavy in his lap, your lips slip against his, sucking at the bottom one to attempt to satiate the need to have something of his inside of you. He’s groaning loud in your mouth, firm hands gripping into the flesh of your bare thighs for dear life, need radiating out of every subtle thrust of his hips.
It's too much for him suddenly, the need spilling out as he taps your leg to silently ask you to lay down. If you feel the slight tap, you don't let it affect you, continuing your harsh grinding motions over his heavy bulge.
His lips lose contact with yours, trailing burning kisses to your neck, as he whispers deeply in your ear.
“Lay down baby girl.”
How can you when it feels this good? When the shape of his dick is rubbing against your panties, the gusset sodden with your slick.
His hand leaves your thigh, but only briefly. The crack of sound happens first, bursting in the air. The pain shoots up your leg moments later. Then, the realisation hits your brain. He hit your thigh. Hell, he spanked you.
And you liked it.
Time seems to stop as you gasp, locking eyes with him.
“You liked that, didn't you?” That age old self satisfied smirk of his tugs at his face muscles as you pull your lips into a tight line, attempting to hide the raw desire that simple gesture had ignited in you.
“What makes you say that?”
Without a further word, his hand cracks down again, your thigh jiggling with the force. A desperate, ragged moan pushes out of your chest.
“That.” He says smugly. “Hands and knees. Now.”
The spell of his words have you acting without thinking, bending to his will with an empty mind and parted knees.
“Just like that, good job baby girl.”
Crack! His large hand lands again, this time on the supple skin of your ass, body nearly falling with the shock of it. Eddie's fingers dig into your hips, forcing you back into position.
Crack! This time on the other cheek, a pornographic moan expelling from your chest so fast it hurts your throat.
“Fuck, you do like that, don't you,” he says as his fingers rub at the wet spot on your panties. Moaning, you arch your back, moving into the touch of his fingertips.
Crack! Again, a stinging blow that rips another groan from you.
“I asked you a question,” his voice is hard, but the faintest sign of amusement clings to it like a gossamer web.
Y-yeah, yes, I do Eddie, please-”
Fresh air hits your cunt as he pulls down your underwear, strings of your arousal refusing to let go of them.
“Fuuuuck,” he says, fingers whispering through your wetness, spreading it around, “didn't know you wanted it like this. Was trying to be all sweet with you.”
The next thing you hear is the jingling of his belt as he slips off his jeans and boxers. Wiggling in anticipation you back up a little, begging to feel the tip of his length.
“Hey, stay still,” he says, using his swollen dick to tap at your clit, “or I'll just cum all over this ass instead. Understood?”
“Yes Sir.”
The sharp intake of breath and the sudden feeling of him crowding your back tell you all you need to know.
“If I'd known all it took to get you obedient was a few spanks I'd have been smacking you around for months… Wait, no, that doesn't sound right.”
You can't help but giggle, but it's swallowed whole by the feel of his member swirling around your entrance, gathering slick. Then, he pushes into you, mutual moans dragged out by the feel of him sliding against your quivering walls.
Rough fingertips hold you steady as he leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.
“You OK baby girl?”
“Uh huh,” you manage, eyebrows knitted with the sheer stretch.
“You know I really care about you, right?”
“Yeah?” You respond, nearly a question as you tilt your head to try and get a look at him over your shoulder.
“Good, ‘cause I'm about to fuck you like I don't.”
There's no further warning, just the harsh grip of blunt fingernails denting into your hips and powerful thrusts forcing you closer to the mattress with each push. Each move makes your eyes roll back and whimpering sounds spill from kiss bitten lips.
“Come on, stay up, atta girl.”
His voice is steady, just a few puffing breaths like he's on some Sunday morning jog and not pounding you into next week. Its punctuated by a fiercer slap to the side of your ass that makes your pussy convulse.
Arms shaking with effort, you try to stay up, but the pounding rhythm is too much. There's just too much Eddie. Eddie, forcing his fingers into you hard enough to bruise, Eddie, grunting meanly with each thrust, Eddie, his cock grinding into your sweet spot so hard it almost hurts. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
You don't even realise that you're chanting his name over and over until you hear him chuckle behind you.
“That's it, keep saying my name. And. Stay. Up.”
Each word is punctuated by a drive forward that ripples through your body in waves, the sound of him gritting his teeth while he says it making you wetter by the second.
“I- I can't, y- you're making me- fuck.”
He laughs mirthlessly, humping into you even harder somehow, and winds his fingers into your hair, pulling it by the root.
“Aww, have I fucked you dumb princess? You gonna come?”
Words are beyond you, not even able to nod your head due to his tight grip. Seconds later you're screaming your release so high and loud you'd be surprised if no one called the police. It certainly felt like a near death experience, your vision darkening and fuzziness expanding through your limbs.
It's not long before Eddie's yanking you upright and groaning into your ear as he looses his load deep in your cunt.
He sits back on his heels, pulling you close so you can perch in his lap. Gone is the dominant, mean side. Your Eddie is back; stroking your hair and making soothing noises as he wipes stray tears you didn't even know had fallen.
“You OK sweetheart?” He asks, voice brimming with concern.
“Hmmmm.” It's nearly a purr, still incapable of speech.
“You just lay down right here, that's it, arms here, lemme grab a cloth.”
Coming back moments later, he cleans you up and offers you some water.
“Sorry if I went overboard princess.” He sounds almost sheepish as he says it, a blossom of embarrassed colouring tattooing his cheeks.
“No, you didn't, honestly. I think I could sleep for a week though.” Giggling, you lace sleepy fingers with his.
“Good, ‘cause there's other stuff I think you'd like.”
You're not even sure you heard him right, eyes drooping already.
“Other stuff?”
“Shhh, sleep baby girl, I don't wanna scare you just yet.” he chuckles, kissing your temple as you drift off to the feeling of his fingers carding through your hair.
Taglist
@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes
#ms gexy writes#eddie munson smut#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie x you#dom!eddie munson#dom eddie#dom eddie x sub reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie x fem reader#eddie my beloved
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
heart aches
🌙 starring. Jeong Jaehyun x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. Your ex finds your sweet spot as easily as ever, as if it hasn’t been two years since his tongue stroked this specific patch of skin and made your whole body tingle with pleasure. You let out a shaky sigh, threading your fingers through his hair and relaxing against the pillows. “Don’t leave me again,” you whisper. “Never again,” he promises.
tw/cw. foreplay, fingering, mutual masturbation, hand job hand fucking, spitting, finger sucking, inklings of oral fixation, praise, dirty talk, pining, reminiscing, breast worship, teasing, Jae being a simp, unprotected sex, handholding while fucking, Jae is pretty vanilla but pent up as hell, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 5.3k
🍭 aus. ex's to lovers, non idol au, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I don't normally do angst, but Idk, this felt right for some reason this month
Prologue:
“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asks, watching you fiddle around the bedroom while he cuddles with your cat on the bed.
Part of you wants to push back your feelings - you’d kind of been hoping to talk to him at the airport in the morning - but you should have known Jaehyun would realize something is up with you. It’s been a nice long weekend having him home with you.
It’s almost been like he never left.
Almost.
With a deep sigh, you go to sit on the foot of your mattress, staring down at your hands. “I can’t do this anymore,” you say quietly.
The room feels achingly silent, and then the comforter ruffles as Jaehyun sits up. “This?” he asks.
“Us.” The word hurts to even say. “The distance… I mean, I knew continuing our relationship while you’re in a different city at a new university doing your graduate program would be rough… but… I just didn’t know I’d ever feel this lonely.”
Tears are welling in your eyes. You don’t want to break up with Jaehyun- he’s had your heart for four years. Starting over with someone new sounds impossible- but at the same time, being away from him hurts more than you could ever have imagined. It hurts when he calls you every night, being the perfect boyfriend, smiling and telling you about his day. It hurts because you thought you’d go through life together- you thought you’d be there to see it all yourself, not hear about it after the fact on the phone.
“Come here,” Jaehyun says softly, moving your cat off his lap so he can open his arms to you.
You allow Jaehyun to pull you into an embrace, his fingers stroking your hair. His heart is thundering in his ribcage, and you can hear it as you cuddle closer.
“I’m sorry that it came to this,” he breathes, “but I understand.”
You can’t help the tears now, and a choked sob escapes you. You grab at the front of his soft hoodie, wanting to crush the emblem of his new school. Part of you wishes he’d never been accepted into the elite business graduate program, but another part knows that Jaehyun deserves to be where he is now.
You love him, more than you’ve ever loved anyone, and that’s what makes this so painful.
Jaehyun needs to focus on his studies, to build a new life for himself across the country- and you need to do the same. You can’t be a ghost anymore, walking through life like a zombie and waiting to hear from him, constantly checking the time zone differences and calculating what he’s doing based on schedules.
“I can still…” you rub at your eyes, swallowing thickly, “I’ll take you to the airport in the morning-”
“It’s okay, baby,” Jaehyun shushes you gently, kissing the crown of your head. “I can get a cab.”
“Are you angry at me?” you ask, pulling away from his chest to look up at his face, worried about what you might find there.
“Of course not,” Jaehyun assures you, immediately stroking a thumb across your cheek to wipe away your tears. “No matter how much I didn’t want to admit it, I knew things had changed when I moved away. I could see that the distance was a problem. You have needs, and I’m proud of you for voicing them, even if it hurts.”
“My heart is breaking,” you whimper.
Jaehyun frowns. “Mine too.”
“You’re really not mad at me?”
“I could never be mad at you,” Jaehyun promises. “I think it will be easier to talk about this with time, if that’s something you’d be interested in. But for now, how do you feel about just laying down, holding each other, and doing our best to enjoy tonight- if it’s going to be our last.”
It might be easier if he was mad at you, if he yelled and swore and tried to make you change your mind- but Jaehyun’s never been an abusive type. Instead, he holds you close, and as you softly cry on his chest, you begin to drift off to sleep.
One
Even in a crowded bar, one distant laugh makes your blood run cold. You grip your drink, heart thundering in your rib cage as you scan your surrounding area.
It’s been two years since you broke up with Jaehyun. Even so, you’d recognize his voice anywhere.
“You good?” your best friend asks, reading your change in expression.
“Yeah, I just thought I heard-” as you’re about to say his name, you spot Jaehyun. He’s leaning against the bar top, chatting with a man whose back is to you.
God, he still looks so good.
Your chest aches, throat going dry. As you watch him, his eyes move to take in the bar. You’re quick to shift your gaze, lifting your drink to your lips to down the rest of it.
“I need to get out of here,” you mutter.
“What? Why?” Your friend reaches for your arm, pulling you closer to check in on you.
“My ex is here.”
“Which one?”
“Which one do you think?” You let out a laugh, but there’s no humor in it.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. Listen, have fun, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You hand her your empty glass, giving her one last look before you turn to head to the entrance of the bar.
You can feel eyes on you as you push through the crowd, but you chalk it up to being paranoid. You slip through the front doors, intent on hailing a taxi. As you make it to the cement sidewalk, you hear your name behind you, and that familiar voice has your blood running cold for a second time tonight.
“Y/N?”
Your whole body freezes, and for a moment, you truly consider running. But you’ve already run from Jaehyun once before, and you don’t have it in yourself to do it again.
With a deep breath, you turn to face your ex, your first love, the man you’ve never recovered from.
“I thought that was you,” Jaehyun mutters quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stares at you.
You don’t even know what to say, so you keep your mouth shut, taking in his pretty face and the broad set of his shoulders.
“Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have followed you,” he admits finally. “It doesn’t look like you want to talk.”
Jaehyun turns to head back inside, and your body reacts on its own accord; you grab at his arm, and it makes him stop. He looks down at your hand, wrapped around his forearm, then up at you.
“We…” you swallow thickly, “we can talk. I just… I don’t know what to say.”
“That makes two of us.”
You drop your hand from his arm when you realize he’s not going anywhere.
“I uh…” Jaehyun clears his throat. “I got back to town a month ago. Meant to message you- but I didn’t know what to say then either.”
“You completed your program?”
“Yup. With flying colors.”
“I guess I always expected you to be a big shot and move to some other city- what are you doing back here?”
“Unfinished business… maybe.” Jaehyun dips his head, looking down at the ground. You watch him absentmindedly kick at an old cigarette butt.
He can’t be talking about you… can he?
“Anyways,” Jaehyun meets your eyes again, “how’ve you been?”
“I’ve been…” you search for the right word, “okay.”
“Yeah? Happy?”
“Sort of. You?”
Jaehyun shrugs, offering you a lopsided smile that makes your heart ache. “Sort of. It was two years of studying. Didn’t have much time for extracurriculars, as you know.”
So your breakup is still a sore spot for him, you can sense it in his words. He’s not outwardly saying it, but… it’s there all the same. There’s something of an apology in his statement, because you do know how hard it was for him to find time for things outside of school- it had been the main reason you’d had to call things off with him.
“How about you?” he presses. “Any uh… any protective boyfriend who’s about to show up and beat my ass?”
You can’t believe he’s asking you outright about this, and the question actually makes you let out a small laugh. You shake your head. “No. No boyfriend.”
“Good. I mean… I hoped you were happy, but uh, you know, it’s nice to hear that, well, you know what I mean.” Jaehyun looks down again, and you can see his ears turning red.
It’s as clear as day that Jaehyun still cares about you. The way he’s acting tells you everything you need to know… well, almost everything.
“So…” you wrap your arms around yourself, “are you planning on leaving again? Do you know how long you’ll be in town?”
“Nothing is set in stone,” Jaehyun admits, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you. “Listen, I’m just going to say it.” He takes a deep breath, meanwhile, you can’t even breathe. “I never got over you. I mean, how could I? You’re everything, and- I understand why we broke up, I really do. But my program is over now, and if you give me another chance, I promise not to go anywhere ever again, at least, not without you right there by my side.”
“Jaehyun-”
“If you need some time to think about it, I totally get that-”
Jaehyun goes to take a step back, and you find yourself grabbing at him once more. Your body simply can’t let him go- not now, not ever again.
Your ex looks down at your hand on his forearm, and as you open your mouth to give him your response, no words come to mind. Your gaze dips to his lips, and before you know what you’re even doing, you’re moving in to kiss him.
Jaehyun is frozen in place at the initial meeting of your lips, but after a moment, you feel his body relax. His hands gently slip to your waist, tugging you closer as he slants his mouth against your own. You feel him release a small groan, and a whimper bubbles in your chest.
How many times have you dreamt of this moment? How many times have you thought about kissing Jaehyun?
Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, and you allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of him-
Someone lets out a whistle, and you roughly pull back from Jaehyun, your eyes finding the two bouncers outside the bar, who are staring at you with wolfish grins.
“Is there somewhere we can go to talk?” Jaehyun asks, resting his forehead against your own.
“Come home with me.”
Two
It feels like deja vu to be walking into your apartment with Jaehyun. You’ve had the same unit for years- and you know it must feel even weirder for your ex to be here again after practically living here with you for half of your time in university together.
As you toss your keys onto the entryway table, you hear a familiar meow. Your cat slinks in from the kitchen, but instead of heading to you, she immediately moves toward Jaehyun’s feet, letting out an obnoxiously loud purr as she begins to rub against him.
“Looks like Mittens hasn’t forgotten me either,” Jaehyun smiles, immediately bending down to pick up the fluffy grey and white kitty. She leans into his touch, purring like an engine as he scratches he cheeks. Her paws begin to make softies on his arm, and it makes your heart ache.
You’ve dated a few guys casually in Jaehyun’s absence, and Mittens has never liked any of them. She always was a daddy’s girl- after all, you’d started dating Jaehyun only a few months after you’d picked her up from the shelter.
You still have pictures of the two of them on your phone, hidden in a secret file- you’d never had the heart to delete them, and as you watch their reunion, you’re glad you never did.
“She missed you,” you admit. “We both did.”
You watch Jaehyun’s Adam’s apple bob with effort, your words clearly invoking emotion. You’re quick to look away.
“Can I get you anything?” you ask, kicking off your shoes. “I had a few drinks at the bar, was planning on making a grilled cheese-”
“You still do that?” Jaehyun asks.
“Yeah.” Your throat feels dry admitting another ghost of your past you still haven’t been able to shake. “I still do that.”
Grilled cheese after a night out had always been your thing, and when you’d started dating Jaehyun, it had become his thing too. You can’t even count how many nights the two of you came home from university parties only to make a grilled cheese and collapse on your bed, giggling and kissing like kids in love.
“A grilled cheese sounds perfect,” Jaehyun says. “Thank you.”
He follows you into the kitchen. As you begin to make the late-night snack, you realize Jaehyun has no intention of putting Mittens down. She basks in his attention, letting out upset chirps any time he tries to stop petting her to help you in small ways.
Jaehyun asks you about your job, and from that, the two of you begin to talk about your lives over the past two years. It feels too natural to slip into this type of conversation. His presence is so calming and familiar- by the time you’re done making the grilled cheese for you to share, it’s almost as if the past two years never happened.
It’s almost as if you never left him.
Almost as if he never left you first.
“Do you want to eat in here?” Jaehyun asks, heading to the small kitchen table.
“We can go to my bedroom,” you say softly. “Unless you wanted to be here.”
“Your bedroom is good.”
He follows you through your apartment, but when you get to your room, he stops in the doorway.
“I can’t get over how little this place has changed,” he muses, looking at the layout of the space.
“Yeah,” you sit down on your bed, lifting your legs onto the mattress and setting the plate by your knee. “I guess I’m used to it like this.”
Jaehyun knows all too well how comfortable you get, how hard it is for you to make changes. You think it must be one of the reasons he never fought the breakup. If you’d gotten to the point of needing an emotional separation to deal with the physical distance, pushing you to change your mind would have only made things worse.
“Can we come sit with you?” Jaehyun asks.
“Of course.” You gesture to the mattress. “Make yourself at home, Jae.”
With a small chuckle, he comes to join you. He’s careful when he sets Mittens down, and she immediately stretches, letting out a massive yawn before coming to investigate the grilled cheese.
Jaehyun reaches for his half of the sandwich. “I missed these.”
“It’s just a grilled cheese,” you laugh.
“Yeah, but there’s something special about the way you make it. I can’t explain it.”
You can only offer him a smile as you both lift the gooey, cheesy, greasy, crispy bread to your lips. The crunch is satisfying, and Jaehyun shifts the food to his right hand so he can pet Mittens with his left.
The two of you eat in silence, but there’s nothing uncomfortable about it. As your meal comes to a quick end, your phone begins to ring, and you stand up to answer it. “Give me a sec,” you tell him, exiting the room while Mittens rushes to follow you.
“Hey girl,” your best friend says. “You okay?”
“I’m good.”
“Seeing your ex must have been pretty hard.”
“Actually, uh…” you look toward your open bedroom door, swallowing thickly then lowering your voice, “he’s at my apartment with me.”
“What!?”
“Yeah, we’re talking things out.”
“Just talking?” You can hear the cheeky grin in her voice.
“Don’t be like that,” you laugh.
“Girl, you and that man were a dream couple. He’s the one that got away, and now he’s in your apartment- he’s probably sitting on your bed, eating grilled cheese-”
“God, stop,” you groan. “Am I that predictable?”
“Nah, it was hashtag just couple things. Okay, look, obviously you’re doing good- I was worried you were somewhere crying and drowning yourself in booze. I’ll leave you be. Say hi to him for me.”
“Will do.” You hang up, looking down at Mittens. She’s circling your feet, and with a sigh, you go to refill her food bowl. You’d given her lunch hours ago, and you feel bad that she just watched you down a grilled cheese with nothing for her own little mittens to get a hold of.
Also… your best friend knows you too well.
Your body is reacting to Jaehyun as if there was never a separation- or maybe, your body is reacting because there was a separation. Your pulse is picking up with each step back to your bedroom, and when you close the door behind you, Jaehyun cocks a brow, finishing his grilled cheese with one last large bite.
“You good?” he asks.
“I’m great,” you tell him, approaching the bed.
“Yeah?” Jaehyun’s gaze moves to the closed door, and he offers you a dimpled grin, mischief flaring on the edges of his expression. “You locked out Mittens.”
Nothing gets past this man. You’ve never loved getting intimate while Mittens is trying to hog Jaehyun’s attention, and you shouldn’t be surprised that he got you figured out the moment you closed the door to your bedroom.
“Don’t even with me, Jae.” You sigh, collapsing onto the mattress next to him while he moves the grilled cheese plate to the side table.
“Look, I don’t want you to feel any pressure just cuz I’m here and we’re sitting on your bed-”
“Does it look like I feel pressure?” you ask, hyper-aware of the way your dress is riding up your thighs.
Jaehyun gives you a slow once-over. “I guess not.”
“You really mean what you said about not going away a second time?” You look down. “Because I don’t think I could take it if we gave this another try and three months down the line you moved cities again.”
Your ex nods. “I promise. If you give me one more chance, I won’t let you down.”
You stare at Jaehyun for a moment, studying the sincerity on his face. “Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You open your arms, resting back against the pillows and spreading your legs. “Now come here.”
Jaehyun practically leaps on top of you. He slots between your thighs like he was made to be there, his mouth pressing to your own while you wrap him in a tight embrace. He kisses you like he’s been starved of your lips.
He retains some of the gentleness that he’d exhibited outside of the club, but there’s a desperation too, you can almost taste it on him… along with the grilled cheese.
The thought makes you smile, and Jaehyun breaks the kiss to look down at you, also grinning. “What?”
“Nothing, just- I’m happy.”
“Me too,” he admits, looking down at your beaming face before he grabs your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, angling your head to the side so he can access your neck. Your ex finds your sweet spot as easily as ever, as if it hasn’t been two years since his tongue stroked this specific patch of skin and made your whole body tingle with pleasure.
You let out a shaky sigh, threading your fingers through his hair and relaxing against the pillows.
“Don’t leave me again,” you whisper.
“Never again,” he promises, voice husky in your ear.
His hand slides down the curve of your body, grasping at your thighs and slowly pushing your dress up. Your hips move, rutting in an attempt to spur him on. When his fingers finally find your core through your panties, you swear you see stars. He begins to rub your clit, circling it as he applies more and more pressure.
His mouth continues on your neck, and you begin to whimper from the stimulus.
You’d nearly forgotten how good it feels to be touched by someone who knows you inside and out- by someone who cares about your pleasure more than he’s ever cared about his own.
“Jae,” you whimper, breathing heavily as he rubs your core.
“Yes, baby?” His lips are gentle along your throat, and the feather-light touch almost teases you more than a rougher one would.
“Can we skip the foreplay? I need you.”
Jaehyun’s fingers stop on your clit, and he pushes himself up on an elbow, looking down at you with a quizzical set to his brow. “Skip the foreplay?” he repeats, letting out a scoff. “Baby, I’ve been thinking about what I’d do to you if you ever gave me a second chance for over two years. We’re not skipping the foreplay.”
“But-”
“Please don’t argue with me. Just let me have this. Just let me enjoy the body I’ve missed so much. I’ve missed your sounds, the way you react to my touch-” his fingers pick up their pace on your clit again, and you let out a whine, pushing toward him again. “See? You’re perfect. No matter how many memories of this I have, nothing compares to the real thing.”
When you’d been dating Jaehyun initially, he was - for lack of a better word - pretty vanilla. This dirty talk is new, and it makes your stomach erupt into butterflies. Your mind goes practically blank, lulled into a lusty trance by the musings of a man who’s clearly bewitched by you, body and soul.
When your gaze dips down to his hand between your thighs, you notice the way his cock is straining in his pants. “Can I…” you swallow thickly, “Can I touch you too?”
“Yeah.” His mouth returns to your throat, and he pushes your panties to the side, dragging his fingers through your soaked folds. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me.”
You mewl at his words, quickly fumbling with the button of his pants so you can push them down just far enough to take his cock out of his briefs. Jaehyun releases a low groan and it makes your pussy flutter as you begin to stroke him.
Your ex reacts by slipping his fingers into your core, two long digits going knuckle deep. He tests your walls, grazing your g-spot when he begins to lazily pump his hand, his palm firmly pressing to your clit.
A whimper of pleasure escapes you, and you can feel Jaehyun grin against your neck. “The prettiest sounds,” he muses. “How did you ever get this pretty?”
It’s a rhetorical question, and it makes you feel cock drunk and dumb, your chest pushing up against his own, looking for stimulus- your nipples are hard in your bralette, but you wish you were naked already, wish you could feel him better-
“Jae?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Can you take my dress off?”
Jaehyun pulls his hand away from your core, bringing his two wet fingers to your lips. He pushes them into your mouth, propping himself up so he can look down at you while you suck his digits clean. “I thought you’d never ask.”
You groan around his fingers, the act of sucking is turning you on more than you’d care to admit, but it ends too quickly as Jaehyun pulls his hand away.
He sits up, taking off his own shirt first. Then he reaches down to grab at the hem of your dress, slowly dragging it up your form. Jaehyun’s eyes take in each strip of newly exposed skin, and you can see the way his pupils have blown with interest.
You lift your shoulders off the bed, making it easier for him to tear the fabric off of you and toss it to the side. This leaves you in your bralette and panties, both of which you’re eager to have join your dress on the floor.
Jaehyun’s hand reaches out to cup your breast, his thumb smoothing over the pebbled nipple that’s pushing through the silky fabric. He squeezes you gently, forcing you to release a moan of pleasure.
A moment later, he’s removing your panties, then your bra, fingers pinching at your newly exposed nipple.
Your hand, meanwhile, returns to his cock- only for Jaehyun to grab at your wrist, pulling you away.
You’re about to ask what’s wrong, but then Jaehyun turns your hand palm up, and he spits into the center of it, bringing it back to his cock.
There’s no way that action should have been as sexy as it was- your core throbbing as you begin to stroke his rock-hard length.
With one last lustful look at your body, Jaehyun settles over top of you again, his mouth seeking out your breasts while you pump his cock. The feeling of his tongue flicking against you has you crying out, pushing your chest toward his mouth. His teeth graze over your sensitive nipple and you respond by applying more pressure to his cock.
Jaehyun groans loudly, rutting his hips into your hand, which stills so you can allow him to fuck your palm. He continues to worship your breasts while his hips do most of the work, and you surrender yourself to the pleasurable scenario you’ve found yourself in.
“You know…” Jaehyun presses another kiss to your nipple, “I was going to ask you to sit on my face, but… it’s hard being this close to your pretty pussy and not just… slipping it in.”
“Yeah?” You guide his cock closer to your core, so that when he ruts his hips, the tip of his cock glides through your soaked folds. “Then just do it.”
“Here I was, saying not to skip the foreplay- but here I am, giving in to you like always.”
Jaehyun releases a laugh, and it makes you giggle along with him, because it’s true. Jaehyun may have this sexy, devil-may-care attitude, but he’s always been a total simp for you.
He was completely wrapped around your finger when you first met, and he’s completely wrapped around your finger now. It’s interesting how so much can change, and so little can change at the same time.
“You just feel so good,” Jaehyun groans, thrusting again, the tip of his pretty pink flushed cock just slipping inside of you-
“Fuck, Jae, please-” you push your chest up toward his face again, pumping his length, trying to guide him deeper-
He brings his mouth to your own, capturing you in a breathtaking kiss as he sheaths himself into your wet core.
You let out a low whine, wrapping your legs around his hips and releasing his cock in favor of grabbing his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.
“Fuck-” Jaehyun moans, staying still inside of you while your walls pulse around his shaft. “Missed this perfect pussy, baby.”
“Missed your perfect cock,” you retort, tangling your fingers in his soft hair and drawing him in for another kiss.
His tongue clashes against your own, his hands finding your hips so he can steady himself as he begins to rut into you.
You love getting lost in him. You can feel your mind slipping away, your body giving into its primal instincts as Jaehyun makes love to you the way he has so many times before.
One of his hands finds your own, taking it from his shoulder and lacing your fingers above you, pressing you into the pillow. He breaks the kiss to look down at you, breathing heavily.
“There’s so much I’ve wanted to say,” Jaehyun admits.
“Then say it,” you urge him, cupping his cheek with your free hand.
He nuzzles against your palm, closing his eyes for a moment while he enjoys your touch. “I’ve missed everything about you. You’ve been on my mind every day for two years.”
Your heart aches.
“It’s more than just the sex, and you know it. I’ve missed holding you,” he squeezes your hand, “missed sleeping next to you. Missed late-night talks and grilled cheese. Missed your laugh and the way your eyes light up when you’re happy. Missed the way you cry at sad parts in movies-”
As he talks, the pace of his thrusts gets faster, and you find it harder and harder not to moan like a whore and interrupt his cute little speech about missing you.
In fact, it’s hard to even keep your eyes open, but your gaze is caught in his own. Jaehyun’s staring into your soul, baring himself to you like a man who’s brought all his walls down.
“I love you,” Jaehyun says gruffly, “I’ve never stopped loving you. Not for one single day. It’s you, and it’s always been you.”
Your stomach muscles clench at his admission, orgasm bubbling to the surface fast from the combination of his movements and his words.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he assures you, licking his lips. “Just rub your clit and let me feel your perfect pussy clench around me as you cum, that will be answer enough.”
With a loud whine, you throw your head back against the pillow, threading your free hand between your bodies. The first touch of your fingers on your clit has you throbbing already, and you release a gasp.
“That’s it, baby,” Jaehyun coos, lips finding your throat. “Just like that.”
“Jae-”
“I know, I know you’re close- must be pent up like me, right? We’re both going to cum way too fast, but that’s okay, we have all the time in the world to enjoy each other- the way I’m going to eat your perfect pussy for breakfast tomorrow morning-”
Your core pulses at the thought, and you rub your clit harder.
“Gonna let go for me, right, baby? I’m so close, want you to cum with me.”
“I’m there-” you tell him, shivering as he licks the sweet spot on your throat. ‘Fuck, Jae-”
“You want me to cum inside right? You’re still on the-”
“Cum inside,” you interrupt him. “God, fuck, please- need you to fill me up-”
Jaehyun groans, squeezing your hand again. His lips move from your neck to your mouth, and your tongues clash in a breathless, moan-filled frenzy, your orgasms just out of reach-
One more whimpered “please” out of you has Jaehyun moaning, his high crashing into him. You can feel him filling you up with his cum, and it triggers your own orgasm. A gasp escapes you, your sensitive nipples pressing against his chiseled chest-
You can feel him everywhere. He’s all-consuming. You completely let go, sounds uninhibited, pussy throbbing harder than it has in the past two years.
Jaehyun fucks you through it, until you’re both sweaty, gasping messes. Then he collapses on top of you, giving your captured hand one last squeeze before adjusting. He rolls off of you just enough to tuck you close to his chest, hand finding your hair and beginning to pet you.
You can hear the racing of his heart as he catches his breath.
As you come down from your high, you feel a welling of emotion bubbling inside of you. You’re shocked when a tear rolls down your cheek, and you’re quick to brush it away. Jaehyun notices the movement and tilts his head to assess you.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you sniffle. “I’m just…. I’m happy, and I missed you a lot.”
“Baby,” Jaehyun’s fingers draw pretty nothings on your back, “I promise I’m not going anywhere ever again.”
☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I've been reading a lot of shorter smut fics recently, and after doing such a big kick-off in January, I wanted to try a shorter piece again, and challenge myself with a little angst :)
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!
🔮 preview. “Listen, I promised myself I wasn't going to cum in or on you tonight - you know, seeing as you’re my wife tomorrow and I don’t want to disrespect you - but since you’re begging for it,” Jaehyun slips the tip of his cock inside of you, only to pull away, “I guess I can settle for cumming on your ass, but only if we shower together after.”
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, creampie, pussy eating champ Jae, pussy worship, fingering, 69, blow job, hand job, deep throating, gentle choking, begging, dirty talk, slight cum kink/mentions of exhibitionism, finger sucking, multiple reader orgasms, etc… I petnames. (hers) baby.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 200
🌙 starring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader
bonus
Since you got back with Jaehyun over a year ago, the two of you haven’t been separated for longer than twelve hours, but tomorrow is the day of your wedding, and there are certain traditions about the bride and groom staying apart- so here you are, cuddled on a couch in your hotel room, missing your fiance.
When your phone rings and Jaehyun’s pretty face shows up as the contact on your screen, you fumble over yourself to pause your movie and answer it. “Jae?”
“Hey, baby. What room are you in again?”
You think about it for a moment. You’d never actually told him where you’re staying in the hotel… “Why do you want to know?”
“Maybe I wanna send my fiance flowers before our wedding tomorrow.”
God, why’s he so charming?
You give him your room number without a second thought, hanging up with an ‘I love you.’
Five minutes later, there’s a knock at the door, and you open it to find Jaehyun standing there with a massive dimpled grin on his face, and a vase of flowers in his hands. “Hi, baby.”
☀️ to read the full fic AND 3.1k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here
👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here
🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list
general taglist
@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling
@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae
@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii
@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven
@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf
@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee
@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy
@mocha000 - @darthlunaa - @just-here-to-read-01 - @shiningnono
@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas - @aaniag
✘ nct taglist
@milkyway-vxm - @nctsawrus - @shiningdery - @freezerandfame
@fairieblog - @fairybr3ad - @peachyjaemin - @chemaistry
@sehunniepot
thank you to those who interacted with the teaser :)
@bobathi - @jeffreysleftdimple - @babieculture - @nominsgirl
@viscade - @axo-l0tl - @icedearlgreytea - @shiningnono
#jaehyun#jaehyun smut#nct#nct smut#nct 127#nct 127 smut#jeong jaehyun#jeong jaehyun smut#jaehyun nct#nct jaehyun#nct jaehyun smut#jaehyun nct smut#jaehyun x reader#jeong jaehyun x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
groupie — 2min
pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader x lee minho
tags: established relationship, polyamory, rock band!au, smut!!!🔞
warnings: swearing, throuple, mxm, sex in a public setting (but they're alone), possessive!minho, he's so jealous, use of “bunny”, “bubs”, "baby," and "babe", they jokingly refer to reader as their groupie many times, talking about putting out to get famous (no one does it ofc), facials, lmk if i forgot
inspo: 2min in the rockstar teaser pics.
notes: i can't not get carried away when it's 2min. this was meant to be just smut but i guess it kinda has a bit of plot and also it was not meant to be this long. it's also filthy as shit.
{ wc: 4126}
You leaned against the old, rusty sink, waiting patiently for your boyfriends to finish whatever they were getting up to.
There was a constant bloop noise, as other than rusty the sink was also leaking despite your attempts to fully shut the stream off.
As soon as they finished their set you rushed towards the most secluded place you could find. There was a toilet at the very edge of the backstage area of the venue with a sign that read “out of order”. The sign itself was so old that the marker used to write the words out was already starting to fade, a light layer of dust turning the white page to an unattractive beige.
Minho texted you just before he walked on stage, saying that he needed you. You told him where you were as soon as you settled.
After a few minutes the door opened slowly, creaking loudly and echoing horribly against the stained walls of the toilets.
“Why here?” Minho asked, planting a small kiss in your hair.
“Having sex in your dressing room stresses me out,” you rolled your eyes, “I can’t have fun when I keep feeling like we’re gonna get caught.”
“So you’d rather have sex in what is clearly a drug den?” He chuckled, wiping his hands against the counter where a few white specks were scattered around.
“No one’s gonna come in here though,” you reasoned.
“Unless you wanna wait until we go home?” Minho asked softly, his eyes sparkling at you.
You shook your head quickly. “When is Seungmin gonna finish, do you think?”
“Probably not for another hour,” Minho clicked his tongue, “some guys came backstage and started kissing his ass.”
You chuckled, “shouldn’t we go save him then?”
“No,” Minho shook his head, “they’re producers.”
You let out a small gasp, eyebrows high. “So why aren’t we there making him look better?”
“Because I’ve been hard through the whole set and I need your help,” he whined, snaking his hands around your waist.
You giggled at him before planting a comforting kiss to his forehead. “You did really well either way, didn’t even notice it.”
It was true, Minho did a wonderful job during their performance and luckily for him, being a drummer meant no one in the audience could see the problem he evidently had.
“I fucking hate him, by the way,” Minho mumbled as he buried his head into your neck. He planted small kisses on your skin, rubbing his palms around your back.
“Let me guess,” you sighed, “he left you high and dry seconds before you guys went on stage?”
“How did you know?”
“He looked especially smug,” you giggled, smiling widely at Minho’s annoyed expression.
“Help me,” Minho whined again.
“Why am I being made to clean his mess?” You exclaimed with a chuckle.
“Because,” he whined. You shook your head, chuckling at his antics.
It’s not that you didn’t want to help him with his problem, it was the only thing you were thinking about as you watched their performance. Minho was incredibly attractive when he played his drums, even more so with his new black hair—long enough to cover his eyes. The black eyeshadow you helped him put on before the show looked beautiful behind his bangs.
Now his eye makeup was slightly smudged from the sweat and the warm bright lights he was under. It made his eyes look darker somehow, more dangerous, even if he was whining at you like the sensitive person he actually is. But only you and Seungmin knew that side of him—everyone else thought he was another asshole wanna be rockstar like so many others were.
Minho leaned in to press his lips against yours softly, rubbing his thumb against your cheek lightly. “You’re staring, bunny.”
“Just admiring how well I did your makeup tonight,” you say, voice too thin to be at all believable.
“You wanna suck my dick so bad,” Minho chuckled, leaning in to kiss you with far more intent than before.
You didn’t answer, because that would mean pulling away from the kiss—and that’s the last thing you wanted. You grabbed onto his oversized shirt, pulling him even closer to you as your tongues clashed noisily.
He squeezed your hips tightly before he backed you up into the counter quickly, the pair of you stumbling as you climbed onto the solid surface with Minho’s blind help.
He didn’t pull away from the kiss once, sucking and nibbling at your bottom lip while his hand buried in your hair.
He didn’t waste any more time, bringing his hand between your bodies to softly rub against your clothed core. You mirrored his actions, rubbing him through his dark jeans.
In pure desperation, the pair of you started moaning loudly at the rush of pleasure.
As soon as you started playing with his zipper Minho pulled away, enough to fish for the condom he shoved into his pocket earlier that day. He asked you to hold onto it as he quickly shoved his jeans down—a small clatter noise following his action as his drumsticks fell out of his back pocket and onto to the floor.
You jumped off the counter, rushing to pull your own pants down. Minho rubbed your hips softly, kissing you quickly before he flipped you around—his dick rubbing against your ass as he pulled your back flat against his chest.
“You don’t need any prep?” He kisses your shoulder.
“Had too much time on my hands in the morning,” you chuckled.
Minho rolled his eyes at you with a soft smile sitting on his fond face. He eagerly grabbed the condom from you, throwing the wrapper to the floor as he quickly rolled it onto his dick.
He didn’t waste any time as soon as you gave him a reassuring nod, sinking all the way inside you.
Although you did use your toy in the morning, enough time has passed since then. Minho was stretching you fully, the sting slightly uncomfortable as he started to move.
He could notice, given the lack of your usual loud moaning, and so he made sure to distract you from it by sucking onto your neck.
The sensation paired with his hands digging into the flesh of your ass was enough to add to the wetness in your core—helping Minho to slide in and out of you with much more ease.
Soon your moans started echoing against the horrible acoustics of the toilets, mixing in with the sound of skin slapping against skin, and the big zippers on either of Minho’s pant leg dragging against the floor.
You gripped onto the counter, hard, relaxing against Minho’s hold as he slammed your bodies together.
“More, Min, please,” you whimpered, as the pleasure started building inside your stomach.
You knew he was needy from his text, and then you knew it again when you watched him play his drums with so much energy. And now, with his thrusts fast and unrelenting–you were sure nothing could make him stop until he was satisfied. And you were happy to be the person to satisfy him.
He held onto your hip bones tightly, using his grip to move you against his body, and so he told you to start rubbing your clit for him.
You brought a hand between your legs, trying your best to concentrate as Minho moved your body around quite roughly.
Then a loud creak made you yelp, the door opening slowly.
You jumped into Minho’s arms–him doing his best to shield you from the unwanted guest. Until the guest said, “sorry, sorry! It’s me!”
You both let out a sigh of relief as Seungmin walked up to the pair of you.
He planted a kiss on Minho’s lips before giving you a kiss as well, smiling softly.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologised, “I honestly didn’t think you’d be at it already.”
“Ran out of patience,” Minho grumbled. Noticing you were still tense around him, he rubbed your stomach softly, waiting until your body relaxed into him again.
“I wonder why,” Seungmin hummed, as if in deep thought.
“Fuck you,” Minho narrowed his eyes at him.
“Would you, hyung?” Seungmin grinned, wrapping his finger around Minho’s necklace before he tugged on it.
Minho stumbled into him, holding onto you with one hand as the other went to Seungmin’s shoulder to keep his balance.
“I’m in the middle of something,” Minho said, voice low. You could still hear him loudly, his voice jumping against the walls harshly.
“Yeah, I can see,” Seungmin laughed, bringing a hand to your hair as he rubbed his fingers against your scalp. “Thought you were my groupie.”
You chuckled at his pout, rolling your eyes at him. “Drummers do it better.”
Minho laughed at that, pushing into your softly. You almost forgot the two of you were still connected, but you supposed his renewed movement was meant to be some sort of reward for your remark. Truthfully, Minho was just waiting for you to feel comfortable again–and being a little shit to Seungmin was your ultimate comfort zone.
“And here I thought being the lead singer of a failing rock band would get me all the groupies I could ever want,” Seungmin sighed longingly.
“Heard you’re not failing anymore,” you patted his shoulder, “why aren’t you jerking off a producer somewhere?”
“Oh god,” Seungmin said, eyes wide, “they were all so hot.”
At that, Minho slammed into you roughly. Seungmin chuckled at your surprised groan before he jumped onto the counter. He grabbed your arms, manoeuvring you to stand right in front of him and lean your hands on his thighs.
He sunk his fingers into your hair again, scratching your scalp lightly. It was a big contrast to Minho’s rough thrusts, and you couldn’t understand which sensation your body was focused on. You let it overwhelm you either way.
“There were three of them,” he explained in a soft voice as Minho kept fucking into you, “they said they’d love to speak to our manager so I panicked and gave them Jeongin’s number. I didn’t want them to think we were massive rookies that don’t even have a manager.”
“But… you don’t,” you said, breathlessly.
“Sure, but I didn’t want Mr. Chan to think that. I also think he was flirting with me,” Seungmin rambled on. He wasn’t usually one to talk so much, the only exception being the few hours after they came off stage. The adrenaline always made him chatty, which neither of you minded usually.
But Minho was a jealous person.
“Oh, flirting with you, was he?” He said through clenched teeth.
“I think so,” Seungmin simply nodded, “and one of the other ones kept asking about you. Think he has a thing for drummers, too.”
He meant that last part at you, and you chuckled softly.
“So I think it can be a group effort,” he suggested, bringing his thumb to your cheek in a soft caress, “I’ll take that Chan guy, Minho can take the chatty one, and you can have the third one. His muscles looked amazing.”
“Wait, what?” You asked, hoping Minho didn’t notice you clenching. You didn’t know what these guys looked like, nor did you really care to partake in what Seungmin was talking about–but the way he said it so casually caused something to light up in your stomach.
“You know,” Seungmin gestured to the air, “fucking producers to get famous? It’s in all the rockstar handbooks.”
You laughed, but Minho stayed silent. In fact, he stopped moving entirely. He tapped your back slightly, an unconscious act he always did before he pulled out. So you knew to expect it, but it still surprised you when it happened.
You quickly turned around to face him, watching as he pulled the condom off and got dressed. Confused about what was going on, you did the same. You leaned against Seungmin’s knees, finding comfort in the way he instantly opened his legs and let you stand between them as the pair of you looked at Minho, silently.
“Hyung?”
Minho clenched his jaw, blinking rapidly as he looked anywhere but at the pair of you. You waited silently, as you knew to do with Minho. Sometimes he just needed a moment or two.
“You’re mine,” he mumbled, before looking back up at the pair of you, “both of you are mine.”
“Yes, hyung, of co–”
“--it turned her on, you know,” he said, sending an angry look your way. You brought your hands around your stomach, embarrassed that he did in fact notice.
“Yeah, well, just because Y/N’s a slut doesn’t mean I meant it like that,” Seungmin explained.
“Hey!” You tried to defend yourself, slapping Seungmin’s knee in protest. It didn’t help that you were still soaking wet–and him calling you names so casually wasn’t going to help you calm down.
“Mine,” Minho said again, far more determined this time. “Neither one of you is touching anyone else. I’m not letting anyone near you two.”
He closed the gap between you, trapping you in between his arms and Seungmin as he placed his hands flat on the younger’s thighs. You noticed his slid his fingers underneath the ripped out holes in Seungmin’s jeans, slowly raking his nails against the smooth skin of his thighs. You could hear Seungmin breathing louder.
“It’ll be for a good cause though,” Seungmin said, unable to stop teasing.
“I don’t give a shit about that,” Minho grumbled, “you’re mine.”
Seungmin tapped your waist lightly, slowly, as if he didn’t want Minho to see–which made you understand he definitely didn’t. He was giving you a hint, urging you to join him in provoking Minho even more.
“Don’t you wanna be famous, Min? I think Seung will have to fuck some producers to make that happen.”
“Mine,” Minho repeated, louder, “Kim Seungmin isn’t fucking anyone. And neither are you.”
“But, hyung,” Seungmin started, snaking his arms around your waist and reaching out for the loops on Minho’s jeans. He pulled him even closer to you–his still hard dick rubbing against your body lightly. “Do you wanna keep playing gigs at shitty venues?”
“Yeah,” Minho shrugged.
“And having to work two jobs for a month just to get one hour of studio time?” He added.
“Who cares,” Minho rolled his eyes, before looking right at you. He was daring you to say something else, you knew it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it when his brown eyes were staring right at you like that. “There isn’t anything in this world that would make me share you two.”
“And if I wanted it for my birthday?” Seungmin asked with a toothy grin.
“Kim Seungmin,” Minho grumbled, grabbing onto the collar of Seungmin’s white blazer, “you’re such a fucking brat.”
“And you’re a jealous idiot,” he smirked back.
At that Minho grabbed the back of Seungmin’s neck, surging forward above your shoulder as he kissed him. The pair of them moaned into each other’s mouths, and you angled yourself as best you could to enjoy the view of them.
Minho always got so intense when he was even a little bit jealous, and considering how red his ears currently were it was safe to assume he was extremely jealous right now. Even though the scenario you were talking about was hypothetical at best, it didn’t stop Minho from letting his possessiveness take over him.
As the pair kept kissing, Seungmin brought a hand between your legs, tracing your wetness with his fingers. You quickly reacted, escalating things further as you grabbed Minho’s oversized white shirt from the collar, pulling it down to suck on the space right below his collarbone. It was his favourite spot, almost always already marked–but this time it wasn’t. You and Seungmin were surely lacking, but you’d quickly correct that.
With your mouth occupied with marking Minho’s beautiful skin, you opened the button on his jeans, shoving your hand into his boxers to start pumping his dick.
Minho pulled away from Seungmin’s lips at that, eyes fluttering shut as he threw his head back, enjoying your actions deeply–if the loud moans he let slip past his lips were anything to go by.
Seungmin, ever impatient, was eager for more kisses, and so he grabbed your chin and turned your face towards him. He instantly sucked on your bottom lip, groaning into your mouth.
As you kissed him, eager to taste him, he brought his hand into your underwear, slipping two fingers inside you with ease.
“Fuck,” he pulled away, watching as he shut his eyes tightly.
You then noticed Minho’s hand was down Seungmin’s boxers, too.
“Bubs, you’re so wet,” he moaned.
“You’d hope so if my dick was inside her like five minutes ago,” Minho grumbled. You squeezed his length lightly, prompting another loud moan to leave him, proving an effective way to shut him up.
“Can I be inside you?” Seungmin asked lowly, his breath shuddering as Minho started moving his hand quicker.
“Please,” you nodded eagerly.
You watched as Minho quickly dragged Seungmin off the counter. You watched as he tugged off Seungmin’s ripped jeans, getting another condom out of his pocket and rolling it on Seungmin’s length.
You waited as he secured it in place before Seungmin pushed down your pants. Just like Minho, he grabbed your ass firmly before slowly sliding into your core.
This time, you had Minho in front of you, and you could easily fall into his chest as Seungmin started thrusting into you. Minho held onto your back as Seungmin held your hips–and the sound of all three of you moaning was so incredibly loud in the old out of order toilets.
You hoped and prayed the rest of the crew were still loading Hyunjin’s van with the equipment and wouldn’t hear everything that was going on.
As much as you didn’t want to get caught (again, technically) you also really really couldn’t care enough to stop, nor be quiet about it.
Seungmin’s cock felt so good inside you, hitting the soft spot deep inside your body repeatedly as Minho kissed along your neck. He was rubbing himself against your stomach, moaning into your skin.
Minho peppered kisses along your jaw until he reached your cheek, placing soft and tender kisses on your skin.
“Mine, baby,” he reminded you softly. You nodded eagerly, moaning pathetically as your legs started to shake.
Seungmin was panting against your shoulder, his moans too broken to even make a sound at this point.
“Minho,” you moaned, willing your eyes to focus on his intense glare and not roll to the back of your head. He nodded at you, choking back a moan as you wrapped your hand around his length, rubbing your thumb against the tip lightly.
“Want both of you to cum inside me,” you groaned.
At that, Seungmin started to move faster–more desperate as he slid a hand underneath your shirt and grabbed your tits.
“Can’t get our groupie pregnant,” Minho smirked at you, “not good for the reputation.”
You let your head fall on Seungmin’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as he tugged on your nipples harshly. The pain mixed with the pleasure in the best way imaginable, and all you could do in response was pump Minho’s cock faster.
“Then cum on my tits, please, Min,” you begged, pushing your shirt up. You looked down at your chest, the sight of Seungmin’s big hands enveloping your chest caused you to clench around him tightly. “‘M close,”
“Where’d your bra go?” Minho tsked at you, “threw it on stage?”
You chuckled lightly, arching your back further into Seungmin’s chest.
“Seung, seung, don’t stop,” you started chanting, moans pitching higher and higher as Seungmin reached around to rub your clit in quick circles.
You grabbed onto Minho’s arms, grounding yourself as he pulled you into a messy kiss. You could barely concentrate on it, spit running down the corner of your mouth as you felt your high approaching you in seconds.
Before you could warn them you pulled away from Minho, your whole body shaking around Seungmin as he wrapped an arm around your stomach, holding you up as your knees threatened to give way. Minho sucked a spot on your neck as Seungmin fucked you through your orgasm–the pair of them surrounding you completely.
Soon after, as your walls were still fluttering in the aftershock, Seungmin came too–moaning your name loudly. You were both spent, but it didn’t stop you from pumping Minho together, Seungmin grabbing the base while you rubbed his tip.
“I’m close,” he warned, groaning as the pair of you started moving faster.
“Ask him again,” Seungmin whispered in your ear.
“Min, cum on me,” you said quickly.
“Go on, hyung,” Seungmin encouraged, “mark your territory.”
“Then I.. should, fuck, should cum on you, too,” Minho panted.
Seungmin smirked at you, that wicked smirk of his, before he pushed you onto your knees. He went down with you, joining you on the floor as he simply–with the most innocent puppy eyes he could master–stuck his tongue out. You quickly followed his lead, sticking your tongue out, too.
In a matter of seconds you felt warmth dropping onto your cheeks, and you watched in awe as Minho aimed the rest of his cum onto Seungmin’s tongue.
You pouted up at him, complaining loudly that he completely missed your tongue.
“Come here then,” Seungmin growled, pulling you into a kiss. It was salty and messy and bitter and you whimpered into the kiss.
You pulled away, desperate for some oxygen, and Seungmin took the opportunity to clean your cheeks from Minho’s cum–scooping it off your skin before he shoved his fingers in your mouth.
He chuckled at you, watched as you sucked his fingers clean before letting out hushed praises.
You felt Minho rub your head lightly, scratching at your hair as you looked up at him. “Let’s clean up, bunny.”
Seungmin helped you stand up as the three of you cleaned each other up, soft kisses exchanged between you. Once you were dressed again, and Seungmin spent a good few minutes trying to make your hair look normal again, Minho’s phone rang.
“It’s Felix, they said they took all the equipment back and they’re at a bar now. Wanna go join them?”
“Would it be lame if I said I wanna go sleep now?” Seungmin grumbled, making a point of plopping his chin on your shoulder.
Minho rolled his eyes, waiting for your answer as well. “I’m not a rockstar, so I definitely want to go to sleep now.”
“Let’s go home then,” Minho decided, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he guided the pair of you out of the old, crumbling toilets.
Seungmin grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together as the three of you walked in silence towards the parking lot.
That was until Minho decided to announce, “that was actually the worst place we’ve done it in. Hands down.”
“Hyung, nothing screams rockstar more than a quickie in a gross toilet with your number one groupie,” Seungmin reasoned.
“Number one?” You gasped, “you have another groupie?”
“Yes,” Seungmin smirked, “but he’s actually also the drummer in my band so I don’t know if it counts.”
“It doesn’t,” Minho huffed, “because the lead singer of my band is gonna disappear mysteriously tonight.”
The two of you laughed, watching fondly as Minho did his best to hold back his smile.
That night, the three of you climbed into bed–letting Minho take the middle so as to let his possessive streak from before calm down slightly. You were sure he wasn’t actually too insecure about it, but if being sandwiched between the two of you was what he needed you’d allow him that. Even if you did prefer the middle.
As the three of you snuggled closer to each other, Seungmin went into more concrete details about the producers he met. How they offered to record one of the songs they performed that night, how they always wanted to work with a rock band before–even though they were primarily into rap genres.
“Babe, did you tell the others about this?” Minho gasped, blinking rapidly.
“No, I went straight to you guys,” Seungmin shrugged.
“Well, this is huge for the band, Seungminnie. We have to tell them in the morning.” Seungmin nodded.
You moved closer into Minho’s chest, smiling proudly at your boyfriends.
“I can come to the studio, right? I have to see it happening,” you smiled.
“Obviously,” Seungmin grinned, “I mean, we still need to take one producer each, you know.”
You slapped Seungmin from across Minho’s torso, tsking at his apparently uncontrollable need to tease his boyfriend.
“Do you wanna go again, Kim Seungmin?” Minho grumbled at him, jaw clenching.
“Oh, baby,” Seungmin swooned dramatically, “thought you’d never ask.”
#2min x reader#all.works#skz x you#skz x reader#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#lee know x you#seungmin x you#lee know x reader#lee know smut#lee know imagines#seungmin x reader#seungmin smut#kim seungmin x reader#kim seungmin smut#stray kids fanfic#kim seungmin x you#lee minho x reader#lee minho x you#lee minho smut#kpop smut#kpop x reader#kpop imagines#2min smut#2mints
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
If I Should Stay
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
He’s staring at him.
Steve Harrington is staring at Eddie Munson.
The thing is, people don’t just stare at Eddie. Not for any reason that means anything good for Eddie. So when, completely unprompted, the fucking King of Hawkins High walks up to Eddie and says, “I need to talk to you,” Eddie thinks he’s entirely justified in the squeak he lets out.
“You? Talk? To me?” Wow. Great job, brain.
“Please,” Harrington whispers, and Eddie thinks desperately this must be some kind of joke, except he’s good at reading people, and he knows the desperation in Harrington’s eyes.
“Okay,” he says, stammers. “Um. There- there’s, behind the school, a, uh-”
“Table,” Harrington nods. “That works. Just…” he sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Leave the lunchbox at home.”
Eddie’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Then what the fuck do you want with me, dude?”
“I can’t explain. Not here, not now. Just. Please. After school, okay?”
Eddie looks at him. Really looks, studies his face, understands the lines by his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. His heart thumps as he realizes. He’s scared. “Okay,” he says, and means it.
Eddie’s a man of his word, so after school he makes his way to the table, pausing when it comes into view. Harrington’s already there, sitting with his head in his hands. Eddie calls out from a couple of paces away. “You sure you don’t want anything from the lunchbox?”
Harrington jumps, hands up, eyes round. Relaxes a little when he sees Eddie. “No. I- I’m good. I can’t, actually.”
Eddie frowns. “What, like, a sports thing? No one’s gotta know, dude, I’ve never been busted, I can keep a secret.”
Steve gives him a half-smile. “No. It’s- it’s not a sports thing. Just… sit down? And promise to listen?”
“Okay,” Eddie says, because he knows how comforting it can be to just have someone there, and he’s not a dick; clearly Harrington’s going through something. Though why he approached Eddie, of all people, he doesn’t know.
“Okay,” Harrington repeats back, taking a breath before starting. “If I were to tell you I’m from the future, a future in which we know each other, how would you ask me to prove it?”
Eddie blinks. He was ready for a lot of things, but not time travel. “Um. I dunno, man, I haven’t really thought about it.”
He takes another deep breath. “Can I try?”
“To- to prove you’re from the future?”
“Yeah.”
Eddie laughs, a little hysterically. “Man, where the fuck do I get the strain you’re on?”
He blinks. “What?”
Eddie gestures at him. “Come on, man, you have to admit you’re not really making sense here.”
Harrington sighs. Takes another breath. Says, “You live with your uncle Wayne. Your father taught you to hot wire cars when you were nine. You listen to Dio and Metallica and Ozzy Osbourne but your favorite song is I Will Always Love You, by Dolly Parton, because it was your mom’s favorite. The guitar pick you wear around your neck was hers. She taught you guitar. You love The Hobbit. Stop me when I’ve said enough.”
Eddie’s never been more scared in his life. “Listen, man, I dunno where you heard all that-”
“Eddie,” he says, implores, and digs something out of his pocket. Opens his hand to reveal a ring.
A ring Eddie already has on his finger.
“What the fuck,” Eddie whispers. Grabs for the ring before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea. Examines it, sees the dent from where his finger had gotten smashed in a door.
His hands start shaking.
“I’m from 1987,” Steve Harrington says, sure as anything. “And I’m trying to stop something terrible.”
“And what would that be?” Eddie asks, feeling strangely detached from the whole thing.
“Your death,” Steve Harrington says, still sure as anything.
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect
#if I should stay#do I need to be starting another wip?#no#do I need help?#yes. probably#will I get any?#hahahahaha no.#probably not#anyways I don’t know why Steve went back in time. we’re gonna figure it out as we go along#or we won’t#this is my excuse to write Steddie#and to write Eddie into the script earlier than he actually was#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#starambles
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
HONNE, TATAMAE & THE OTHER ONE
male reader x shin yuna
9k words
Yuna shuffles into your office with the same sneaky smile, the same easy slouch, and she settles into one of the chairs across the table. There is, apparently, more to talk about.
It's a matter of image, of perception, is what she knows.
You know every good lie starts with the truth.
So you swallow. You pause. Some other part of you understands Yuna can't ignore who she really is, and you’re not sure you can either.
-
Look - Shin Yuna is the kind of woman that turns heads, even with the best of intentions. A long, lithe silhouette; an easy, rosy sort of youthfulness clinging to the swell of her cheekbones, the curve of her waist. Take a dress that's cut to show a little thigh, or a hairstyle pushed back on one side - earrings, or heels, or just the subtle swipe of red over her lip - it doesn't take much for men (or anyone else) to figure that out. A girl who, more times than not, really ought to have a boy's hand planted on her ass, in possession.
So the opportunity to capture such a form perfected - all toned and graceful and flush for curves, her legs never seeming to end, the slithering fit of the dresses - these were the things they wanted. Package it, put a logo on it - better yet, a ribbon or a bow - and ship it straight to the consumer.
Somebody everyone wants, somebody no one can ever have.
“So,” Yuna asks from the other side of your desk, lips slanting halfway coy. “Are you going to treat me like an adult?"
Her fingers play idly with the hem of her skirt, and she lets a long, slender leg slowly slide out from beneath her.
“In what way,” you answer, half paying attention.
"The photos." She doesn't have the slightest qualms about lifting it higher. The soft creak of leather, and a deepening smile. "Am I not allowed to be a little racy?"
"That's certainly... one way of looking at it."
You glance away from where her stockings wrap around the soft curve of her thighs to flip back through the photos in your lap, one after the other, each a little different from the last. The beach, the sun, a flimsy white slip of a bikini top that hides exactly nothing, her muscles wet and glistening and perfect. Beyond suggestive, it's considerably inappropriate.
But then to a lot of people, Yuna is a lot of things.
She’s more clever than anyone gives her credit for. And she’s fucking gorgeous, sure. That’s definitely not up for debate, but god is she young - she's barely twenty. And here’s some rather uninteresting food for thought: you couldn't even technically take her for a drink without faking an ID or breaking some law or another, like a real one. So go ahead, chew that down. Girls her age are typically studying, or working a retail job and getting wasted on the weekends. And they aren't typically making six, seven figures turning their head to the camera and asking how much more skin?
You have some thoughts.
Prudently, you’re her publicist, and it’s your job to make sure that the public gets a good look at her and sees exactly what you want them to see. It's unfair. She wields sex like a weapon. She's got the face, the body; it's an easy sell, commodified and commercialized down to the finest detail, the softest curve, the slightest arch of her brow. The idea's to not let anyone look too long, should they catch something you haven't approved yet, or the fact that she's quite possibly a real person with a real life and real feelings, which could easily fuck up her brand, so unfortunately, that's a bit of a no-go.
Sign of the times maybe, no ethical consumption under another something, yadda yadda - it's a shitty business, really, and the whole thing usually leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
(And just to be upfront, as an important disclosure: you are fucking her brains out on the side, which is a different kind of ethical dilemma, with a different kind of flavor to it.
You’re supposed to be something of a role model - and she’s gone and fucked up bad by falling for you. From her perspective, it probably makes sense. Girl gets boy, bespoke song, credits roll and it's fine. No sin to atone, no 'after'.
It was supposed to be a one time thing. It’s metastasizing into something you’re not even going to attempt to put into words. It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen, you know that. And you know the girl has daddy issues, but then you've never had a problem whatsoever playing into it. The possessiveness, the control - she gets off on it. You're pretty sure that she'd do just about anything if you asked her, and you'll admit that the thought alone makes your stomach stir, your mouth run dry.)
Yuna taps her knuckles on the wood of your desk. “What’s the verdict?”
"Well, professionally," you say, caveat in hand, and you give the photos one last flip through. "I'd say they're fine.”
"Oh?" Yuna cocks her head to the side. Her long, blonde hair curtains over her shoulder, and the smile that shadows in at the corner of her mouth is almost wicked. She leans forward, chin propped on a palm, and you see that her expression is bright, glittering with interest. "And unprofessionally?"
Sure. It's a fair question.
Though she's wearing her stage face, the one that looks all big eyes and doe lashes, a hint of a pout on her plush bottom lip, and she's staring at you expectantly, the way she might look at a man she's just asked for the time.
You've seen her look a million other ways. You've seen her with her knees spread, her cheeks flushed, on all fours, straddling your lap, face pressed into the sliding glass door of your shower, her eyes screwed shut as she chokes out your name. And god, doesn’t she look good in all of them.
Your fingers tap against the photos.
“Unprofessionally," you tell her, and the smile on your face is tight - unknowable. "I think they’re a little… gaudy."
Yuna frowns, and it's just a flash before her expression is carefully blank again, the stage face back in full swing. She's been doing this since she was a teenager, so the mask is impeccable, but you know her, and you know that she's thinking: about the photo shoot, the way the photographer was looking at her, and the way you had looked at her later, too.
She knows what you've seen. She's wondering if that's why.
"Really," she asks, a note of disappointment in her voice.
"Really," you confirm with a small sigh, though you're still smiling. It's a small, private sort of smile, like you're remembering a joke. You don't miss the way she glances down at your mouth either. "Let me be clear, you have a shot at real success. I mean, you have a chance at a career. A real, sustainable career.”
She's sitting there with her legs crossed, her foot tapping restlessly, and when she's silent for a moment too long, the way her eyes narrow just a smidge, her head tipped slightly, you realize how it sounds. Patronizing.
"Look," you amend. You're not the best at apologies, but you try. "I just mean - I think that you could be doing something that you actually enjoy."
"Who says I don't enjoy this," she says, and there's a bite in her tone, a challenge. She's leaning back in her seat now, arms crossed.
"What, taking your clothes off for the camera?" You laugh, a quick bark. Isn’t that a cruel question, and you can see it in the way her eyes flash. "You could do a lot more than that, I'm just saying."
"Right," she says, and she doesn't blink, doesn't even move. Her gaze is fixed, unwavering. "Because I'm not pretty enough."
You open your mouth. Close it.
It's not a question. It's a statement.
"That's not what I'm saying-"
"Do you know what makes me different from the IT-girl-of-the-month? The Jang Wonyoungs, the Bae Irenes, the Kim Jisoos of the world?" Yuna cuts in.
"Yuna, this isn't-"
"You should know. " She laughs. "It's your job, knowing things, isn't it?"
The silence stretches thin between you. She's not wrong. There’s the quintessential beauty, the timeless classic, the fantasy-wrapped-up-as-a-daydream - oh, it's all sexual, but the product there is palatable (read: marketable). An idea the general public wants to take home to their mother, not take to bed. A beauty so docile and innocent, you feel guilty harboring those untoward thoughts it makes you have.
Yuna is somewhere possibly, someway probably the opposite. You’ve sold her as such, as fantasy in sheep's clothing. She's neither afraid to put the images to words, nor speak her desires aloud. It's her own brand of sensuality, and it's what the public wants - has always truly wanted, since the dawn of man and of popstars fucking their publicists - what the public wants but turns itself in knots just to pretend they don't. The only way it’ll end up in anyones’ parents' home is under the guise that it will be smuggled upstairs and held down into the springs of a mattress. Hand over her mouth, or maybe around her throat, just so she'll shut up.
She's not a nice girl, or the girl-next-door, a bride-in-a-box, but you'd known that before. The line between fact and fiction is fine indeed.
"You're different," you tell her, finally.
"When I first came in here, you had no qualms, no issue to raise, and now all of a sudden, everything is too much," she says, and she's not smiling, her tone flat. "If it was a problem from the jump, you would've said so."
“I just think a little subtlety would be a nice change of pace. It could go a long way, I mean, I could show you the data- "
"So you're going soft on me, is that it?"
You blink, and the realization hits.
"Just where was this noble version of you when we first started out? You had no problem then, remember? Put a sixteen-year-old in front of a camera, in this industry, and all of a sudden-"
"Don't."
“And suddenly it's all 'oh no, that's a little too much, we need to dial it back'." She sighs, a single sharp burst. "Why is that? Is it because you think that now you own me? I fuck you, swallow your cum and call you daddy, and now these are your decisions? Is that it?"
She’s standing now, her chair shoved back so fast it nearly clatters to the floor. There's a storm on her face, almost a rage. This now become a familiar story. The one where the girl's too pretty for her own good. Too much, too soon.
"I'm not a child," she tells you, her tone measured, a sharp contrast to the fire in her eyes. "I know what I want. I know how to get it. You're not telling me anything I don't already know. I'm different. You're right."
She's different, but the girl's clever, too. And she's stubborn. It's a dangerous combination.
You breathe slow. "Then why don’t you act like it."
“If they’re going to call me a slut,” she hisses, and she's walking forward. Her palms land on your desk, hard, and you glance down at her clenched fists, at her neatly kept nails, "you know, after we leak them all those steamy photos online-"
Your mind clicks. You reach to slam the cover of the photo book shut. She's caught your hand, though, in hers, holding it firmly to the desk.
Yuna glances at the photos over again, at the tight fit of the swimwear, or how the ties slip in an invisible breeze. And she's biting her lip, trying not to smile, you can tell. "You know it might be worth it for once," she says, slipping a finger between the buttons of her shirt.
There's a long, tense moment, and before you can register it, Yuna has rounded your desk; she’s closing the distance, fast.
And she’s lowering her eyes. Putting her lips on yours.
It knocks the wind from your sail, for just the instant. You're speechless.
Because her fingers. Her mouth. Her hair. Yuna's everywhere, and she's warm. It's utterly selfish, you understand: you want her to be yours. You want her to be yours and no one else's.
She’s realizing she might be.
You feel her grabbing for more of you. Wanting. She tilts her head, her breath hot, and you kiss her back, her mouth slick against your own, and the kiss is a fast, deliberate kind of messy. Your teeth catch her bottom lip, and her tongue slips past yours, licking into your mouth, her hands clutching at the collar of your shirt. It's not like it is when you're fucking, which is slow and hot, and she's on her back, legs around your waist, her nails biting into your skin, or when she's bent over the arm of the sofa, her ass in the air and her back arched, her breathless moans a chorus of yes, yes, please. This kiss is more battle, more heat, less gentle and less finesse. It's the kind of kiss that's just short of an argument.
"You're an asshole," she breathes into your mouth, and it's not a compliment.
You smile against her.
"So are you," you murmur, and her lips are parted, her eyelids fluttering shut, her breath coming quick and hot.
"Then maybe you should just fuck me," she says. She's not asking.
“Yeah.” You press your words right into her neck, her collarbone. “Maybe I should.”
Your hands are on her hips faster than you can realize what it is they’re doing, palms pressing into her, and then you're walking her backwards, shuffling a few steps until the small of her back collides with the edge of your desk, and you're lifting her up onto the surface, the photographs falling to the floor, scattering.
"I thought we weren't supposed to do this here," she murmurs, pulling away for just a moment, her mouth swollen and wet, her eyes dark. She knows exactly what it does to you: the goading, the taunting - the looks of faux-innocence later over a bare shoulder, her ass in the air. How it can get you to fuck her within an inch of her life. What it’ll get her, the return on investment.
"And I thought we agreed to longer skirts."
Her thighs are smooth, silky, and they part, the lace of her underwear stark against her skin. You slide a hand beneath the elastic band, sinking down, and down, until she inhales sharply.
"The fuck do you end up doing going up the stairs?" you add, and your fingers are tracing the swell of her hip, and you can feel the goosebumps on her skin.
She bites her lip. You sink down to press a kiss to her thigh, and then the other.
"Nothing," she tells you, and her eyes are wide. "I guess it all just hangs out."
She simply smirks right back into you, throws her arms over your shoulders. You’re snared, caught - she’ll always be able to fuck what she wants right out of you.
"Jesus, Yuna." Your hand curls around her wrist, thumb pressed to her pulse, and her shoulders roll back.
You push her down, and she's sprawled across the desk, legs stretching wide, her head tilted back and her chest heaving. “God, you’re so fucking wet, and I've barely touched you. That turns you on? Being a brat?"
She sucks air past her teeth, and you can measure each rise and fall of her chest. The lace under her hips is soaked, her pussy swollen and pink. Like if she doesn’t get your hot, open mouth on her clit this instant, you’re both going to have a problem.
You slip two fingers into her instead, and Yuna keens.
"I know it does," you say, and your voice comes out lower, drier than you expect. She's hot, so wet around you, her pussy fluttering. "It fucking turns me on, too."
"Please," and “god,” is what all you receive back in half whispers, while her legs are spread, her heels now really dug into the square of your back, and she's got a fistful of your hair like she owns it. Her voice is high, her eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t be such a fucking tease."
You're not going to make it easy. She's not going to make this quick.
"What, and you aren’t?"
You curl your fingers inside her, and the noise that leaves her is positively obscene. She's grinding against your palm, her hips bucking, and her lips are parted, her eyelashes dark and thick, fanning her cheeks. She's panting, her thighs trembling.
"No," she breathes. If she’s shaking her head, you can’t tell. "I'm exactly what you tell them I am."
Your hand stills, and it takes a moment for her to realize that the pressure inside her is gone. Her eyes snap open, her mouth twisted.
"Fuck you," she spits. "Put them back."
You're already sinking down to your knees, and you've got her skirt shoved up, the lace panties pulled aside, her hips canted, her pussy glistening. The stockings can stay, fuck, the heels, too. She's so fucking hot, her legs spread apart and her lips red. Her palm shoved into her brow, and her breath just barely more than a ragged huff of air. You can feel her body wound tight and ready, her eyes on the ceiling.
You put your tongue against her, flat and slow. Inaccurate, indiscriminate, licking up her wet cunt. And her whole body arches off the desk, a cry leaving her mouth with her head thrown back. Her thighs are shaking, and her heel presses into your shoulder, and god, she tastes incredible.
"Please." It comes like music, really, a song of desperation. You can hear it. She's singing it for you now. "Oh god, please, fuck-"
So you do her one better. You put your whole mouth over her, and she fucking shivers. You don’t even try to ease into it - you're devouring, ravishing her, working your lips and tongue all over her pussy, lapping the length of her in broad, hot strokes, and she's almost shrieking, her body going taut. You suck on her lips, pressing your tongue into her clit, and when you pull off her, your hand takes over the place where your tongue can't quite reach, her wetness slick around your fingers. Yuna's close - you can see that she is, you can hear that she is, and it's her gasp that lets you know.
"I'm -" she says, her voice reaching higher, her nails digging into the flesh of your shoulders, the wood of your desk. The sound she makes is wretched and beautiful. "God, I'm cumming, I'm cumming - fuck!"
The licking, the lapping, the fucking fingering. You can feel her slicked cunt pulse and throb in a satisfied, anticipatory kind of way. Even if she wasn’t audibly wet around your knuckles, you’d read Yuna like a map.
Your thumb taps across her clit, once - twice, thrice, and it’s just that.
She arches off your desk, thighs trembling as your tongue works her over, This hard, hungry kiss, and she tastes as sweet as she looks - as filthy as she acts, too. Her pussy is slick, her hips rolling, her body trembling, and she's making soft, little ah, ah, ah, sounds into the wet seal of your mouth. She's trying to keep it quiet, because she knows as well as you, everyone in the damn office does, probably - it's one thing to play at being a slut. A complete other to really fuck like one.
Your finger slips in and out of her pussy, and then another. They fill her up. The knuckles bending and pushing deeper. Yuna's fucking ruined - your desk is ruined.
But then there you are, complicit, and perhaps a little evil: licking and licking and licking right into her, making her grip twist in your hair and her thighs clench around your face. You can feel it in how her breathing is coming fast, faster, her whole body growing taut, and it was never going to take long, you figure, the way her hips were rolling the moment you got your hands on her. You can tell. She's close, and she's so pretty, all flushed and writhing, her skirt hiked up, her ass perched on the edge of your desk, and when her mouth falls open and her breath catches in her throat, you pull yourself up to watch her, the heel of your hand pressed against her clit, and she's shaking.
"Look at me,” you tell her, a kiss trailing unsatisfyingly into the crease of her thigh, your voice running coarse.
She does, her gaze glassy, and the sound that leaves her mouth is a sob. That’s all it really takes.
“Show me. What face you make when you cum on my fingers sweetheart, show me what a slut you actually are-"
You can watch it all in real time, the panting, the heaving. The sculpted lines of her pretty face screw up, real tight, and she lets out another moan, breathier this time, her mouth hanging open. She does it again when you press down. And Yuna fucking shakes, her hands balled, white-knuckling, and the desk rattling beneath her.
It's all a matter of slight degradation, you’ve learned, the barest humiliation. Like the paradoxical freedom she knows she can find in a hand clenched tight around her throat or her hair pulled and twisted into a fist or the sharp sting of a smack across her ass. Her pretty face. She likes a little something that burns. Something sinewy, visceral, raw: you call her a whore, a filthy fucking cumslut and it makes her body curl like she has hot metal pressing into her skin. Makes her breathless, like she wants you to own her.
Sometimes it's better than being fucked.
(Sometimes.)
Because just look at her: she’s in the middle of coming apart, mouth fallen slack, brow furrowed - and she gets real quiet when she cums, the absolute opposite of the journey she’d taken to get there, all those loud little, uh-uh-ah, fucking please god, her moans, her whimpers - her orgasm ripping right through the middle of her, the hourglass of her entire body stiffening on borrowed time as it washes across her features.
You let out a loud sigh, something she can moor herself to that isn’t your fingers, the desk, or your hair at the roots. Yuna can be every bit as uncomplicated as she can be complex, but god, you love her most like this: an unrehearsed, beautiful mess.
"Baby," you tell her, because it's easier to just call her that, and because you don't know how else to end the statement, because you know if you ask, she'll let you - hell, she'll beg for more, and that’s got your brain feeling rather mushily incoherent at present.
"Daddy," she responds - because of course she fucking does; she’s gasping, and her cheeks are still so pink, her body sated, and your heart leaps into your throat.
It's a problem; you've been trying to work it out for a good few months now, and by this, you mean the little moment you have right after you're done, where your eyes meet, and you smile at her. A problem, too, her lips. A problem, because she kisses you, soft, and slow, and easy. A problem, because her heart's probably already yours.
If anyone were to ask, you would have said there's no greater pleasure than knowing a girl that's almost died to take your cock, but maybe that's the point: it's just supposed to feel a bit better if you're a little head over heels, a little stupid about it too.
"I'm going to use this perfect pussy now," you warn her - just simple formality - because you're already rolling her down onto her back, your cock hard and aching against your trousers.
You've got your hands on her stockings, tugging them down to her ankles, the lace of her panties around her thighs, the neat garter of her garter belt wrapped around her hips, her cunt bare beneath it. You unzip, too slow. You tug yourself out.
“I’ll be good,” she says to you, a promise.
“Yeah,” you return to her, “I know.”
And you slip your cock into her cunt, just barely - maybe an inch, maybe more - and you hear a little noise leave her throat, low. Broken.
“Fuck,” she murmurs, and god, you just can't help it, it's easy; you sink deeper, nice, slow, everything smooth inside her, until another broken sort of gasp spills off her lips.
And then another: "oh my fucking god."
You snap your hips back in, bottoming out this time in the wet heat of her perfect cunt, and she just fucking collapses. Yuna looks like an absolute dream in this state of half-dress, half-distress: black suede around the ankles, stilettos, with just the perfect heel. There are worse things, you can imagine, and she looks perfect sprawled out against your notes and portfolios, all this hot, aching want. As gorgeous as she is fucked. You tear into her stockings, a little. You’ll tear more.
You already know you're going to hell. Or at least that’s where you should already be, but you hips crash into hers again, fucking her legs wider apart, spreading her open across your desk for you, getting her slick all over the photos, her career - it’s all so perfectly unfair.
"You have no idea, the things I want to do to you right now," you breathe, your tone hushed, and you're talking again, like you often do. There goes your mouth - but your hips drag back, and then again, her pussy clenching, vice tight and impossibly wet.
It's a long, torturous, lazy sort of a pull, that draws these pretty thin moans from the very center of her.
And the way that feels, your cock buried deep in her cunt: better than good - heaven, if you care enough about labels for it, or the names of things. You haven’t any real way to tell; the gates haven't opened or anything, so all you're working from here is an educated guess. From the fact that Yuna’s eyes have slid closed, her lips parted, and her whole body starting now to tremble gently with it.
"Jesus, this perfect, tight pussy grips me so good, god - such a good girl, always so fucking wet for me," and your mouth is pressed to the arch of her ear, whispering every last thing you know will make her cum again, like a dream.
And she is, she does.
She's twisting up to grip at your hips, her head falling to one side. When you drag your cock through her cunt, slowly, you watch her lips purse and the way the flush moves all the way down the column of her neck, past her collarbone, her shirt half undone and her tits heaving against the white, sheer fabric. You fuck her for a little, and then you roll your hips slow, so slow.
Until your pace is fucking punishing, deep, and so hard. You can’t help it.
Because it's unbelievable - she's so perfect, so tight around you. Fit snug like a glove, like she was made to take your cock, to whimper and mewl at your mercy. Her lips part further and she keens, her brows twisting in similar disbelief as you pound your length into her. The heat pooled in your belly, the way she looks under your desk: fuck, she's so beautiful like this, properly fucked.
You'd let her ruin you for life - it's that simple.
"Yuna, you - fuck," you barely say, and you sound more than slightly stunned, so she’s filling in the gaps, elaborating in the spaces you cannot - that she loves it, that you’re so good for her, and so is that, and that, and that - the way it hits, right there, keep fucking her just like that, because right there, right there, right there, right there - the way she props herself up on her elbows to tell you, "you're fucking me so deep, oh my god - yes, oh my god, fuck."
By the time Yuna shudders through another orgasm, a silent ghost of a wail leaving her pretty frozen mouth, her lashes are batting against her cheeks, and she's biting her lip, so hard you're certain she's going to break the skin, her back strung like a bow. It's the look on her face, that soft sort of reverence, and how her lips are swollen and spit-slick, the pretty hollow of her throat. Your thrusts become faster, shorter - your own moan thick in your throat, your jaw hanging slack.
“Here,” you say, and she’s just putty between your fingers, on your cock.
You’re flipping her around, onto a different angle. You know she likes it, the way her tits are pressed against your desk, and it's hot the way her ass tilts right into your hips, arched. Proffering. "Be good for me, and spread yourself open."
She's already so meek when she complies. "Anything, sir. Stretch me out; I want you to make me yours."
God, she's practically purring when she talks like this. She knows exactly what that fucking does to you. Knows that when her eyes draw back, big and watery and full, you're a goner - if your cock wasn't deep in her pussy, fucking her open and raw, the view would nearly be enough. And all of this, the pretense, the pantomime, she knows how to bend the line of your body to her own, because when she turns, and presses her red mouth to the crest of her shoulder, you are hers.
You could probably cum, right now, deep down into the molten hot of her cunt: if your hips keep up their ruthless pace, if her ass was sticking up the slightest bit more - the sound that would come from her.
"Take that perfect cock - and fuck my pussy up," Yuna mewls, her voice saccharine and slurring, a touch whiny. She rolls her hips. Your cock grinds, still, though it stutters now - shallow and quick.
"All this pussy, for daddy's cock," and you're sure that the entire office can hear her now, the moans that escape from her mouth - but you can't even find it in you to care. You're caught, all of her a net you've willingly been ensnared by, and here you figure that's the slightest bit appropriate; you're so fucked, and it's funny, too. Funny enough to laugh about, later. "Nobody fucks this tight little pussy the way you do, sir."
It's a smile she hears in your voice when you say, "is that right? Go on then, let’s hear all the things you'd have me do to your slutty little cunt."
The line's crossed again, in some indecipherable direction. Where, again, exactly, does it matter? There are lines and lines, and none of them quite mark the beginning, the end, the periphery. This time you don't pull back; you dig deep, and it makes Yuna cry out like you’re killing her. Which, in a way - you already have.
So your hips stutter forward again, once more, and you lean into the slant, so fucking deep it's practically impaled. There’s nothing quite like holding this girl’s hips and pounding her from behind. Her pussy alone is fucking incredible. And the sound her ass makes against the flat of your stomach, the crease of your thighs - it's unimaginable, the way Yuna makes these little squeaks of a noise, like half-broken moans, when you fuck deep, deep, deeper into her. The way her arms splay wide and search frantic across your desk. And as you grab her slim, dainty wrist, pin it back and pull her tight - fixing her upright until you have her head lolling back against your chest - you simply fucking pound away.
Fucking all these little curses and sounds of appreciation out of her throat. Your cock forcing out each syllable, "yes," and "fuck," and "god, oh my fucking god - I cannot believe," now on repeat, how her tone grows tighter. How she moans - a lot, like something's being worked loose.
"Uh-uh," and you're holding her steady now, with one broad, strong hand at the back of her neck. "Keep telling me, and maybe I'll let you cum."
Your free hand finds purchase in her hair. Yuna's groan coming out pathetic and wanting, her mouth half open. You wrap her silky golden locks around your fist, her hair thread neatly through your fingers, and then give the slightest of yanks.
Christ, her pussy just fucking soaks onto you. Greedy. Needy.
"Shit," and Yuna gasps when she can, where she's allowed to.
"Oh, is my little girl into getting her hair pulled?" and you can see the signs of affirmation: the muscles inside her flexing, grasping you as you roll in, a small, soft nod, and the way she sighs your name, like a prayer on her lips.
Listen, she can barely speak, the way you're fucking her apart. Yuna's body is wound like a bow, like string and taught wire. Bent into the side of the desk and open for you, her pussy pulsing tight around you with every stroke.
"Sir, I'll do - whatever you need, just - just - let me have your cum, please -" and there, she's begging now, and her voice is tinny, breaking, breathless and airless.
Then it’s her fucking hair. You pull so much on it harder this time, with another measured thrust inside her, your body flush against her ass. Fingerprints searing down onto where her hips flare and taper, impossibly narrow.
You’re probably hurting her. You’re probably ruining her for anyone else - nothing will ever satiate her more than the way she sobs as your fingers twist tighter through her hair. Around her fucking miracle of a waist. It's an obscene sound that echoes down to your cock, as deep, hot and fucking filthy as her cries when she cums for the third, fourth?
"Just," Yuna barely makes, her eyelids heavy, her gaze flitting somewhere behind her. "Just look at you, fucking me so hard, filling up my tight little pussy, making me take everything your cock has to give. God, you love wrecking my perfect little hole, don't you?"
No, or yes, or probably. You’ll figure out the details later.
"God, I love it when you get real messy, when I get you like this-" your words run seamlessly into the searing heat between your bodies, like punctuation, like the end of days -
"Use me." She doesn't just say it. "Take me, and cum in me, wherever you want. Daddy, you can have my mouth, or, or, you can - you can finish inside me."
And god, you could, you really could: just the timbre of her voice does things to you, the way that it curls around the words daddy, and sir, and you're fucking me so goddamn good. She's saying them now, her whimpers breaking into outright moans and all: shit, please, please - you're gonna make me cum - oh - oh fuck! And when she's wound that tight, a quivering, sopping mess of a girl, you put your fingers against her clit, circling and pressing in tempo to the thrust of your cock.
The cruel metronome that makes. Hell, it fucking sends her.
She’s begging you to finish inside her. It's fucked up - and she knows it. She wraps her heels around the square of your back, and the tension rises, and rises, the coiled spring tight and waiting - just a push away, so you slam into her once, then twice more, the push of a hand splayed between her tits and your fingers digging into the muscle of her thigh. She wants you to cum in her pussy, fill her right up; she tells you that, again, that she wants it, and her voice is raspy, high. That she wants you now, as if she didn't before, and how does this compare, because she needs it now.
You hold out for just a little. You’re holding your breath. Just a little, just until Yuna’s eyelashes flutter open over her shoulder and she says your name, so sweetly, and says, "please, just, inside."
You shouldn't.
You can't.
So here, barely able to think at all, you end up doing the unthinkable - thinking all the while of pumping her right to the finish and draining your balls straight into the deepest reach of her cunt, how fucking tempting it may be - you muster an ounce of good judgment still adrift in a sea of lust. Your throbbing cock draws out of that wet, inviting heat and into your fist, and watch how that makes her begin to unspool: the way she tries to press her knees shut. She's sobbing for it, pleading, her lashes dark with tears. "No, no, fuck me, please, I'm begging you. Please, I'm going to be so good - god, please -"
You tug her back, look her in the eye, and let out a loud, shaky exhale. "Knees, princess."
She's too wracked with need to do anything other than comply. Her jaw drops. “But-”
"Mouth," you cut in, sharp enough that her gaze lifts, and you're right there - on the precipice, so close, watching her tongue dart out of her mouth to run across the swell of her bottom lip.
Watching her knees fold into the carpet, her stockings down loose around her thighs, her underwear hanging off an ankle. The rise and fall of her chest like rolling waves, and you can see her hands fisting on her knees, and her face: you watch the emotion flash over, like water on glass, and a moment is all it takes. She leans her face forward to your hand, as you wind her hair into your fist, her lips parted and her gaze lowered. She's obedient, taking the weight of your cock with her pretty pink mouth like the fucked-up-little-fantasy that she is, opening so nice and wide.
Her eyes flit up to yours, her mascara-ringed lashes fanned against the pink of her cheeks.
"My face," she tells you, or something close to it, "fuck my face. Go ahead, use it - cum all over me."
Your cock slides halfway home, her cheeks hollowing, and when it presses to the back of her throat, she gags. You curse and tip your head back, the wood of your desk digging into the flesh of your palm.
"What did you say," you half groan out. "Baby," you add, just for good measure, just to play along, "c'mon."
The tip of Yuna's tongue sweeps and swirls just beneath your cockhead, and she moans her answer around your length, lapping at a leak of precum. "I said," she's repeating now, her cheek brushing across your shaft, and you shudder. "Fuck, what I said was I want you to cum all over my face.
Jesus.
You bury your cock into her mouth once, twice. Let it sit there. Let her really struggle for it, the angle just a tad awkward from above. Let her lips stretch wide, and her shoulders shake a little - tears start to gather, pricking her eyes, her lipstick a mess, the way your cock fits, plugging up her throat so full. You hold her like that for just a second, a little less - until Yuna's moaning, the vibration low in her mouth, and her eyes flutter open, closed.
"Fuck," you spit out, and "perfect," and your voice is shot, your whole face warm, and you're going to cum on her - everywhere on her. Yuna, who’s been staring up at you in wide-eyed submission, gives you a little nod, like she means it.
Like she’s earned it.
And maybe she has: it only takes one last look to seal it - her hand curled around your cock, her cheek matted with her own spit and lipstick, the bright smudge of her own cum from the point of her chin to the cleft of her cupid's bow, and her eyes are locked on yours, eager and hot. Maybe she hasn't - and maybe you should make her beg, fuck her mouth some more - it's almost cruel, how she looks. A perfectly pretty picture, poised and pliant and waiting, and she's right there, beneath you, and fuck - this is so wrong, and you'll ruin her, you'll mark her up like this. She'll be painted like a work of art.
Your pulse thickens. Stands right up in your veins.
Then, your control, snapping: her pretty lashes flutter, her mouth gone slack, her jaw still tilted up like she expects a gift, an offering, her palm wrapped so nice and snug around the base of your cock, her expression dazed, and so easy, and perfect, so eager. You tilt your hips just a fraction further, and she fucking swallows, her tongue tracing the underside where you throb harder, heavier - her body lilting up as you press in so deep.
“God,” you breathe in, out. It hits hard. It hits fast. “Yuna-”
A tensing of your stomach coils up through like smoke, and your grip tightens on the edge of your desk, the other in her hair, a helpless, desperate thrusting, and there - it's a wonderful, brilliant sort of explosion, like light, the white-hot burn of a fever breaking. You cum all over her face and into her hair, spilling out streaks of hot, filthy white onto her sculpted features and the sweet line of her throat, and god, there's so much, she's taking it so easily, all her breathing hot and heavy and loud.
Her skin alabaster and porcelain; cotton and canvas; she lets you fucking paint her, all messy and ruined.
In fact she’s even smiling like she’s holding in a laugh, all gooey-soft with satisfaction, and you're jerking your cock slow through her slender fingers, even after there's nothing else left to give and every inch of her face is marked - the way she wears your cum like new skin. You feel the shockwave tear your nerves open, and then the calm, right on its heels, spreading out from your core to your fingertips, out through the roots of your hair.
"Ah," you exhale, a tight gasp. Yuna takes the entirety of you into her mouth, sucking down your length - harder - as she swallows back a final, sticky load, her own hair sweat-slick to her face.
Just look at the damage: that’s a story not even you’d be able to spin. There's cum on her nose, dribbling past her cheek. On her jaw and on her cheek. Filthy white streaked all over her parted lips, her neck. Down her shoulder blades, and soiling her hair, and leaking down past her collarbones.
(Christ, was this better or worse? You can't even tell. Every version of her that's been served on a plate for you has seen fit to make you sweat.)
When the dust begins to settle, you’re left panting and spent. Yuna, the collateral on this fine, whiny, disaster of a deal. A collection of photos, and some thoughts and ideas, that now sit disheveled on the ground. There's a scathing voice inside your head that's demanding to be heard, reminding you all-too-casually that this is not any way to manage a client. She could snap her fingers, call out to that sycophant at the top floor, and your career would be over - she could do anything she should ever desire.
You know, on a baser level, this, and worse: the duality of the thought. Her tight cunt on your desk, you on your knees; the sharp gasp you can steal from the top of her throat, perhaps when she feels the gentle pressure of teeth around one rosy nipple. The pinch of your thumb and index finger around the other. Her nails down your back in ten angry lines, and the throb in her throat, while you slide the whole width of a hand, rough, over the flesh of her ass.
Maybe the desk, like everything else, can just join the pile on the floor.
"Yuna," you say, the vowels pitching like a sigh.
Her palms find the sharp crease in your pants and slide upward. She's gazing up at you, bright, her face sticky with you.
"You can't send me out like this," she tells you, matter-of-factly, letting a smile cross the lines of her lips - or a smirk. A wordless extension of the previous sentence - of a few.
You pull out and away from her: a white and gray dotted tie hanging loose, unknotted; a button still fastened somewhere mid-center, your trousers pulled off and loose down just below your knees, the fly gaping open. She's in a similar state, the cups of her bra slipping loose, her mouth flushed, lips swollen and red, the outline of how she’d let you use her in a smeary, runny stain across her cheek.
"Maybe let your manager know," you tell her, pulling your belt in place, and you think you catch her eye rolling. "That you're going to be late."
Yuna doesn't hesitate.
"Tell her yourself," she responds, "I'm sure she'll be relieved to hear I'm not actually dead - just having gotten fucked stupid on my PR person's cock."
"I might forget to include a couple details."
"You shouldn’t." Her eyebrows jump. And she's chewing, lazily, on the full curve of her lower lip, her teeth glinting like razors. "Here, before you throw all this to the sharks -"
So, so very dramatic, and with this: her thumbnail pressed beneath your chin. It draws your gaze up - up, and down: from the splay of her legs and the gleam of wetness between them, a brief rest along the arcs of her chest - the room's a total fucking wreck. Your necktie, her skirt, her blouse, her pantyhose. The papers and books all spread, bent, broken, the stack knocked clean onto its side. The skirt's probably still pulled too far up her hips for decency, her breasts shoved up to her neck and the collarbone, and then there's her face - her chin streaked with cum. Yuna smiles then, the corner of her mouth pulled upward.
She might kiss her if you'd let her.
Cum on her lips be damned, she's beautiful like that, like she isn't even trying. And in fact, she never really had to - this girl, she'd do it alone. The idea that someone could be as universally loved as she, is enough, a marvel even, but here she is in front of you, every atom and curve a siren, a study in perfection and composition. Like she’s not just all your mistakes laid out to bear.
"Take a second to take a proper look, hm? Get all the memories in, while they're fresh."
"Because?"
"You can remember I'm only the person you say I am, for you."
"You can remember I'm only who you say I am, for you."
"Oh, of course," and the laugh that leaves your throat sounds dry, cracked open. The band of her skirt stretches, snaps back, so neatly that it leaves a pale line on her flesh. And now there are your hands, fitting around her hipbones, a sigh: a short, sudden motion, tugging her up. Yuna gasps: something surprised, delighted. She's all grins and teeth, all clean, bright incisors.
"Mine," you're breathing, the flat of her stomach underneath the fingers you've placed upon it. "This is mine - you. Yours - you're all mine."
It’s possessive, but, you’re not all incorrect.
"Yeah," she more than agrees.
There's a ribbon-taut quality in the way it leaves her mouth, the tension in her body coiled up through to the bones. She makes it sound like the beginning of a promise, the beginning of something much larger.
And by the way." She’s still buttoning her shirt. Putting herself together. You’ve seen the triage, the damage control. This is the Yuna you get.
So, she needs the second - a respite to lick a stray stripe of slick and cum off her wrist - blotting her cheeks with a ball of wet tissue, until all that's left is the smeared lipstick, her stockings splayed around the floor. The pattern you've worn, where your fingerprints would've shown, gets covered up under her skirt and her coat, wrapped up in a scarf.
The smug satisfaction in her tone pulls your focus, just in time, her hair's falling in waves down her shoulders - perfect, but not flawless: there's a creased line, a hint of her throat, just beneath the collar. There's a slight wisp out of place. The buttons aren't arranged all the way from her collar to her sternum.
"I'm going to go with that photoset, with the white top, in the sand - gonna post 'em online and generate some buzz. You even said it yourself: they're fine. " She pauses, pushing away a strand of hair. "Professionally, of course."
"Professionalism." You smile. "Of course."
She walks out carrying the stilettos: pumps in either hand.
"Always. Catch you soon," she promises, and you do catch a last flash of her expression, lips parted, the lower curving into a satisfied smile, right as she flicks the lock on the door open and your office goes back to quiet.
For a split second, it's unbearable: the silence.
And you think again.
She can have anything, get any boy, girl, whoever, any designer, photographer, make-up artist in the world; there's something so unmistakably intoxicating about the fact that the thing she's decided she wants, is you.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
platonic yandere batfam thoughts...
how you end up integrating into the family.
I think we often forget how insidious the long-term effects of kidnapping are. Your whole world narrows and you have nothing fulfilling outside of them.
Realistically, how many weeks straight can you do nothing but look at your phone/watch TV? I know we do this every day, but we have school/work/friends/family to provide actual fulfillment and joy. But when you take that away? And have to decide whether you should scroll through monitored social media or talk to your captors?
Especially because the TV doesn't distract from the cold, hard gaze of the surveillance cameras in your room.
Even if you read and craft and cook, it's so difficult to keep your mental health in-tact without having a positive interaction with another human being.
It would start small.
It's morning and Cass smiles at you from across the breakfast table. Not wanting to be rude, you smile tightly back.
Jason wordlessly slides you a book. You take it.
After a few months, you feel slightly more comfortable about taking up space in the manor. Alfred is out of town for the weekend, so you make a sandwich with Tim.
Bruce talks to you about the new scientific breakthrough at Wayne Enterprises and keeps you relatively up-to-date on major world events. You begrudgingly learn more interesting facts than public school has ever taught you.
Soon, you've watched everything good on Netflix. You exhausted your tolerance for social media. You've given yourself headaches reading so much. You've hit an art/writers block like never before because your input has run dry.
With no other source of entertainment, you become more attentive to the Bats.
Of course, you've always watched them out of fear. But as months tick by and you've learned their hearts (and delusions), it's obvious that they would never hurt you. Furthermore, operating within their expectations is easy enough as long as you never challenge them, so the constant danger-sense slowly turns off.
However, because you don't have any outside noise to occupy your mind, drama in the house becomes almost life-and-death to you.
Peace is so fragile, and it's all you have.
Damian and Bruce return from patrol in a rage one night. Damian's furious echoes bouncing upstairs, followed by Bruce's low, indistinguishable scorn.
Fuck, you think. Now your and Bruce's talks are going to be stilted and uncomfortable. Now Damian is going to sulk in your room for hours, unwilling to talk about what happened yet wanting some kind of reassurance.
You can't keep them from fighting, but you want to protect your peace.
When you first arrived in this dreadful manor, you never would have imagined you'd offer them kind words and affection. However it's the only thing you can do now.
There's conflict. The house is tense--your world is tense.
Should you call Dick? He has a day job again, so he can't come over until tomorrow night. It's up to you to ease the tension.
So you do, slowly, with homemade food and Bruce's favorite coffee blend and Damian's favorite hot chocolate. You sit with them individually, shoulder to shoulder (much closer than you would normally sit), and pretend everything is alright. They're surprised but very quick to snap back into a good mood.
The house is suddenly back in order and you did it all by yourself.
And with these vigilantes, conflict is ripe. There's always people coming and going, fighting and playing, and you're unwillingly the most in-tune with the well-being of everyone's relationships.
You protect your peace. You protect the house.
this shit makes me gnaw at my enclosure. if you're fem, it's worse because ✨ stereotypical woman archetype ✨
anyway this has been on my mind because i've been taking care of my baby chicks and cooking dinner most nights, so i'm like 💁♀️ i could be a captive house wife
click here for my yandere batfam masterlist
#yandere batfam#platonic yandere batfam#yandere x reader#platonic yandere#yandere dc#yandere batman#yandere headcanons#yandere batfamily#platonic yandere batman#yandere scenarios
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎
part 2
genre: angst, established relationship
word count: 2.9k
warnings: curse words (and some of the boys are really cruel to yn :()
masterlist
LEE HEESEUNG
"Please, can we talk about this tomorrow?" Heeseung groans as he slumps down on the couch, rubbing his face with his hands. He really doesn't want to get mad at you at such late hour but he can't help it when you keep talking his ear off from the moment that he's walked into your shared apartment. "I'm dead tired, just let it go for now, okay?"
"I'm not sleeping with you today," you scoff, not even daring a look at him so that he doesn't notice the tears of frustration that have started brimming in your eyes.
You've just found out from one of Heeseung's friends that he's been out with his ex for almost the entire day. Without telling you a word about it. Normally, you weren't the jealous type as you trust your boyfriend with your whole heart. But after hearing that he's been having the time of his life with the girl that once has broken his heart, while you were at home waiting for him to come back, your thoughts drifted onto a completely different track.
"Why? Fuck, so what if I saw her today?' He exclaims, slapping his thighs with a breathless laugh. "Nothing happened! She just wanted to talk, YN! Talk. Stop trying to turn it into something that it's not."
"Then why didn't you even bother telling me that you were meeting her?" You ask, involuntarily letting yourself get emotional and raising your voice as well. "Who even does shit like that?"
"I just didn't think it would matter so much to you, that's all. I thought you trusted me a little more!"
"So you're saying that if I were to hang out with my ex and didn't tell you anything about it, you'd be fine with it?" You snort when he nods his head. "Alright, yeah. Watch out cause I almost believed you."
"God, you're just like her! Why would I ever think of cheating on you with her when the two of you are exactly alike?" Heeseung ignores the hurt look on your face and keeps on talking nonsense, fueled up by anger. "Both have trust issues. Both are ridiculously jealous. Both are way too clingy for anybody to bear. Fucking twins!"
You laugh in disbelief as you stand up from the couch. "Why are we even in this relationship if I'm so fucking unlovable to you?"
"Good question," he quietly murmurs.
You don't bother to wait for his apology or pleads for you to stay as you know he's way too deep in his anger to even start acknowledging your feelings now. You don't even have the strength to slam the door, so you just quietly let them shut behind you as you walk out on the dark street.
PARK JAY
You cross your arms over your chest, watching as your boyfriend finishes getting dressed for work. He said he would take the day off today but he obviously forgot to do so and now is leaving you hanging onto another empty promise.
"You're twisting my words! I just said you promised you would stay with me today, that's all."
"Well and I said I forgot! End of story," Jay grumbles at you, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. "Whatever, I don't have time for this right now."
"You never do!" You raise your voice involuntarily and turn your face away as you feel the tears gathering in your eyes. How could he forget? "Not even once have I ever been prioritized while being in this relationship with you! And it's not like you even have anything important to do today!"
"We're not having this conversation again," he laughs breathlessly, threading his fingers through his hair. "My boss called me and said he needs my help. Of course my job is gonna come first in a situation like that, YN! After all this time, I thought you'd be more understanding by now."
"Yeah, it's just there are days where I want to be put first for a change. It's not like I ask you for that every week!"
You can't help but let the tears drop down your cheeks, failing to hide your emotions for any longer. You're right, though. Jay knows it too. You never complained about his work or asked him to take the day off, unless the date was important to you. It's just too bad he was too much in his own head to think about it for a little longer.
"I can always take the day off next week!" Jay says with a roll of his eyes. "And, god, why do you always have to cry?"
"Because it's my fucking birthday, you asshole," you breathe out in a broken voice before standing up from the bed.
Jay's eyes almost double in their size as he lets your words repeat in his mind. Birthday. It's your birthday. He tries to grab your wrist as you walk past him but you jerk it away from him.
"YN, I-"
"I don't wanna talk to you right now."
You rush out of the bedroom. Slamming the bathroom door behind you, you slide to the ground and bury your head in your hands, finally letting out the sob that's been weighting on your throat throughout the entire morning.
SIM JAKE
As you walk out of the restaurant angrily, you dial Jake's number. It's the fourth time you've been stood up by him like that, sitting completely embarrassed and alone at the table reserved for two. Jake was supposed to meet you here forty minutes ago and while at first you waited patiently for him, knowing his schedule is rather tight, after half and hour of having your calls not answered, you started losing your cool.
"Hi, baby. What's up?" You hear his cheerful voice from the other side of the phone.
"Nothing much besides the fact that I've been stood up by my boyfriend once again this week," you reply in a rather passive aggressive manner as you open the door of your car. "How was your day, babe?"
Jake keeps silent for a second or two before a groan leaves his throat. "Fuck, it completely slipped out my mind. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you should be," you nearly growl, starting your car. You curse quietly when the engine stutters and chokes but doesn't want to start by the first two times. "I waited forty minutes for you, jackass."
"Shit, are you still there? Just wait a little more and I'll be there soon, I promise."
You scoff loudly. "You've got some nerve, I'll give you that, Jake."
You can hear him sigh heavily and you can just picture how he's pinching the bridge of his nose at the moment. "Can you stop that? I already apologized. I'm sorry that I have to work."
"Oh, you're very welcome." You grit your teeth, keeping your phone pressed between your ear and shoulder as you drive out of the parking lot. "Would it really kill you to remember about me even once?"
"YN, you're not being fair right now," he says and you know he's pushing himself to his limits to not raise his voice at you. "Look, one of us has to actually make some money. I can't keep my head wrapped around everything."
"Oh, yeah? So you're at work right now?"
He stutters slightly. Got him. "Well, no I-"
"Jake, are you coming, man?"
Hearing Heeseung's voice shouting on the other line makes your fingers clench on the wheel tightly. You breathe in sharply and let out a short laugh. "Good to know what your priorities are, Jake."
"No, wait, I'm-"
You interrupt him again before ending the call, "Don't bother."
PARK SUNGHOON
You breathe out in relief when you hear the familiar sound of Sunghoon's car pulling up on the driveway. He hasn't been answering any of your calls since the afternoon and you really started getting worried. You've been arguing with each other throughout the couple past weeks and you took notice of how distanced he's become towards you. You've attempted to fix that but it's a really hard task to do with your boyfriend being as stubborn as he is.
"Oh my god, I was so worried about you," you say the second when Sunghoon walks into your house. "Where have you been?"
He only nods his head at you in acknowledgement and toes his shoes off wordlessly. You frown slightly at his sudden muteness and put the sizzling pan aside.
"I made you dinner, figured you'd be hungry," you start again and only get disappointed when he dismisses you curtly.
"I'm not."
Pressing your lips together, you nod your head slightly before following him to the living room and taking a seat next to him, not close enough to irk him any further though. The two of you sit in silence, mindlessly watching the random channel that Sunghoon played. He has his arms folded on his chest and you wonder what went so wrong that he suddenly turned so cold towards you.
So you try again, speaking with a soft voice. "Why didn't you answer my calls today?"
You feel your whole body tensing when he lets out a groan. "Cause I didn't want you distracting me."
"Okay, what the hell is up with you, Hoon? Why the attitude?" You ask, turning away from the TV screen to look at your boyfriend's frowned up face.
You don't miss the roll of his eyes as he clicks his tongue. "For fuck's sake, if I knew you'd be this needy today, I would've stayed out longer."
You try not to show how much his words hurt you but the look on your face tells him a completely different story. You clear your throat and decide on voicing the thought that's made itself way too comfortable in your mind during the past few weeks. "Sometimes I just feel like you don't love me anymore."
"Well, maybe I would've loved you a little more if you stopped being so clingy. Seriously, fifteen calls, YN! Who the hell does that?"
Silence. His hurtful words linger in the air heavily and you both say nothing. You avoid his eyes, lips slightly trembling from the heartbreak. Sunghoon still says nothing as you stand up from the couch and leave the room in a rush.
KIM SUNOO
"Do you even hear yourself? Why would she be lying?" Sunoo shouts at you as he crosses his arms defensively.
You're gripping the edge of your sleeve tightly, trying to prevent yourself from raising your voice as well. Even though you're keeping cool, his words and accusations stab your heart with dozens of needles. Having your boyfriend believing his friend rather than you has got to be one of the worst feelings in the world.
"And why would I be lying?" You ask, glaring him down. "Why would I, your girlfriend, lie about my whereabouts? For fun?"
He scoffs at you,. "Well, you didn't tell me you were hanging out with Sunghoon, did you?"
"No, because I wasn't hanging out with him, we just stumbled upon each other on my way back," you explain calmly as you clench your sleeve even tighter from frustration. "We literally talked for five minutes."
"That's not what what I've heard."
You roll your eyes at his stubbornness. "Yeah, cause what else would a person that's been in love with you for two years tell you?" You can't really help the sarcastic tone that's sneaked itself into your speech and you can see it only irks Sunoo more as he nearly scowls at you.
But all that you've said is the truth. Since the beginning of your relationship, you've noticed his best friend's spiteful looks thrown your way along with the heart-eyes directed at Sunoo. You've kept quiet for all this time, not saying a word even when he ditched you for her or made plans without your knowing. But this, this is just too much for you.
"You don't know what you're talking about," he has the audacity to laugh at you.
"No, Sunoo, it hurts me, you know?" You finally let all of your feelings that have been crumpled inside you for all these years. "Do you ever even try to acknowledge my feelings when you hang out with her?"
"Don't turn this on me right now. And I'm not allowed to have female friends now? What kind of a girlfriend even are you?"
You get up from his bed and scoff at him. "And what kind of a boyfriend accuses his girlfriend of cheating while he sneaks out without her knowledge to meet up with his best friend?"
With that, you turn on your heel and leave his apartment, slamming the door behind you.
YANG JUNGWON
"That's not what friends do, YN! Are you even listening to me?"
"I am but you're being ridiculous!" You bite back at your boyfriend, walking back from a lunch with your best friend.
Throughout the entire meal she's been throwing jabs and snarly remarks at you, and although you've already grown used to her attitude, Jungwon just couldn't let that slide. He thinks it's illogical that someone you've been calling your friend for such a long time, would act so mean and nearly insulting towards you.
"I don't understand how can you let her speak to you that way," he breathes out in disbelief. "I wanted to spit in her face after an hour of talking to her, why do you let her do this to you all the time?"
"Because she's my best friend, Won!" You try to stay your ground as you dig into your purse, looking for your keys. "That's just how she is. I've learnt not to take any offence in that. You shouldn't either."
"I just care about you, so forgive me for not liking it when someone insults my girlfriend!"
You sigh, feeling tired from the night and the ongoing argument. "I know you do but I don't see it that way. She's just rough around the edges, that's all."
"Of course you don't see it. All you need is constant validation. You just can't live with the thought of somebody not liking you. You'd let a stranger walk all over you only if it meant you had gotten his approval. That's not fucking healthy, YN!"
"How can you even say that to me? Why would you-," you stop yourself from engaging in this conversation and slump your shoulders with resignation. "I don't wanna do this anymore."
Jungwon sends you a confused look. "What do you mean?"
"I just want to be alone right now," you say and Jungwon can clearly hear the exhaustion in your tone. "I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for walking me back."
NISHIMURA RIKI
The moment that you hear the door slamming, you sigh as you realize it's one of these days again. For the past week or so, Niki has been coming home frustrated beyond words but not even once has he said what was bothering him. Sure, you've tried to intervene and ask him what's was it all about but he always dismissed you quickly. It hurts you to think that maybe he doesn't trust you enough to confide in you like that.
"Hi," you greet him as you stand up from the couch. You walk over to your boyfriend and wrap your arms around his neck in an attempt of hugging him but only get disappointed when you feel his body tense up. You pull away and look at him pointedly. "Another bad day?"
Niki hums and moves away from you, going into the direction of the kitchen. You follow him, feeling worried for him as you know he has the tendencies of bottling up his emotions inside.
"Wait! Don't ignore me again," you scolded him slightly, forcing yourself to stay calm and speak with the soft tone. You grab him by his forearm. "Niki?"
"Let go of me," he breathes out, voice heavy and your heart screams at the thought of him deciding to struggle with all of it by himself again.
You do as he asks and free his arm instantly. "Okay. Just talk to me, please?"
"There's nothing to talk about, Yn!" He snaps at you and runs his hand through his hair. "Stop pressing me!"
"No, you always keep acting like everything's fine when it's clearly not! I don't want you to keep it all to yourself. I want you to feel like you can talk to me about stuff like that," you explain, trying to keep him on your side. "I want to help you!"
"I don't need your help, though!" He scowls, sending you a sharp look. "If I knew you'd be sticking your nose into my business the second I walked through the door, I wouldn't even bother coming back."
"Hey, that's so cruel and uncalled for, Niki," you gasp slightly, feeling his words pulling at your heart again. "You're my boyfriend, of course I care about you! I hate seeing you like that but you just won't let me understand what's going on with you!"
"Are you my psychiatrist or my girlfriend? Jesus, I'm not in the mood for that right now," he sighs heavily and walks past you straight for the door.
"No, wait!" You call after him but you're too late and he's already slamming the door behind his back.
permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19
#i dont think id forgive all of them so easily in the real life lmao#hoon especially yeah i kinda went off with that one im sorry#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen reactions#enhypen reaction#enhypen angst
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
deal - cl16 (20/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: There's one person that you don't want to see standing in front of your door in the middle of the night.
Warnings: angst (like, a lot), super many swear words, asshole!Charles, a teeny tiny bit of fluff, Raphael
Word Count: 3.7k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: couldn't let you wait another week after that cliffhanger. thank you to everyone who's been with me from the start. couldn't have done it without you. here's to 20 chapters and so much more to come.
It only takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the light and you recognize who is standing in front of your apartment door. The hair, the eyes, the mouth, and as soon as you recognize the face of the person who hurt you, you push against the door with all your strength to slam it shut.
But Raphael is quicker and shoves his foot in between. "I just want to talk."
You briefly consider kicking his shoe and kicking him out of the door frame. Something that would certainly hurt a lot barefoot. But you can't take a step back to slip into your shoes either, because Raphael would see that as an invitation. So you stand there rooted to the spot, your fingers clasped around the door handle and your shoulder leaning against the door so that at least some counterbalance keeps him from entering the apartment.
"Please, Y/N."
"What about my previous behavior makes it seem like I'm in any way interested in having a conversation with you?" you hiss hostilely in a hushed voice. After all, the neighbors don't need to hear what's going on in the hallway in the middle of the night.
He raises his hands placatingly. "I know you want to sort this out between us as much as I do."
"I want you to leave me the hell alone." You lean against the door a little more so there's more pressure on the sides of his foot, forcing him to pull it out sooner or later.
"This can't really be what you want. Please, Y/N." He tilts his head. "We both know how much you miss me. And how much you need me."
You have to stifle your laughter, even though there's nothing at all funny about this situation. "I'm not the person who keeps calling my ex and suddenly turns up at the door in the middle of the night."
"I just want to explain myself. And that everything is like it used to be."
"Then you shouldn't have been fucking other women." Your tone is icy. "Why can't you just leave me alone and get out of my life?"
Raphael crosses his arms in front of his chest as if he's offended that you're seriously asking him that. "Because I love you. So let me in, please."
You narrow your eyes. "Not a chance."
His gaze, which looked halfway human a moment ago, hardens. "Is he here? Is he listening to us right now?"
You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"
"Don't play dumber than you are. I'm talking about your fucking roommate I spoke to on the phone the other day." He puts a palm against the door and you feel his weight pressing against you. "Is he here?"
By now you're bracing yourself against the door with all your weight. Your heart is hammering in your chest. Raphael is not someone who would hurt anyone else. But his cold stare and the pressure against the door make you think otherwise. Must make you think something else to protect yourself. If he manages to walk through that door - thank God Charles is in Italy.
"This is none of your business," you try to say as normally as possible.
"If some random guy is fucking my girlfriend, then it is definitely my business."
"I'm not your girlfriend, remember? You cheated on me and dumped me." You take a deep breath to get rid of the tremor in your voice. "So just leave me alone. I don't want anything more to do with you."
Raphael laughs. "I didn't cheat on you." When you raise an eyebrow, he rolls his eyes. "My God, so I slept with a few women, so what? I had needs. And you didn't want to."
You're on the verge of crushing his foot. "Are you actually listening to yourself? Do you hear the complete bullshit you're talking?"
"Don't be like that. I bet you've been sleeping with your roommate to get one over on me, too." He leans a little in your direction. "Why don't you explain to me why you slept with him but not with me, your boyfriend?" When you don't answer him, but just look at him venomously, a disgusting grin spreads across his face. "I'm telling you: because you're a little bitch." He takes his hand off the door and instantly your body relaxes a little. But the calm doesn't last long. "Did you hear that?" Raphael suddenly yells through the hallway, waking up all the neighbors within a 200-meter radius. "She's a little bitch. Come and get her. She really gets it on with everyone."
You open the door a little, but only to stand fully in the doorway. "Are you crazy? Be quiet, you'll wake up the whole of Monaco!"
His head jerks in your direction. "Why? Don't you want your roommate to know who you really are?"
If Raphael hadn't been shouting like that, you would certainly have heard the loud footsteps coming up the stairs. But all you see is a shadow and then you see familiar green eyes looking into yours. Charles is standing on the top step of the stairs, his eyes fixed on you, but before you can say anything, ask him why he's not in Italy, his gaze flits to Raphael and even from a distance you can see that Charles' body is tensing.
Raphael follows your eyes and takes a step back when he sees your roommate standing in front of him. Charles could have been anyone - a neighbor complaining about the noise, a delivery man dropping off food - but from the way the Monegasque is glaring at your ex, there's no doubt. "Your roommate is Charles Leclerc?" Raphael runs his fingers nervously through his hair before taking a step in Charles' direction and holding out his hand. "Wow, it's an honor to meet you! I'm a big fan!"
Charles Leclerc? Honor? Big fan?
Charles looks down at the outstretched hand as if it were a venomous snake before he pushes past the man without answering and positions himself in front of you. You see his tense back muscles dance beneath his sweater as he turns to Raphael. "You should go."
"I think you've got this whole thing wrong," your ex tries to wriggle out of the situation. "Y/N is my girlfriend and we-"
"Ex-girlfriend," the brunette interjects without batting an eyelid.
Raphael scratches the back of his neck nervously. "Eh, we're just trying to sort that out. Would you please give us a moment so we can work this out?"
Charles doesn't even need to turn around to know that's the last thing you want. "No. I'm sure there's nothing to sort out. I'm not going to ask you to leave again."
Your ex snorts and raises his hands placatingly. "I don't want to argue with you. Like I said, I'm a huge fan and I watch every race. But the matter only involves Y/N and me, which is why I'm asking you to step aside so we can work this out."
"And I said no." His tone is cool and calm, almost threatening, and his gaze is so piercing it sends a cold shiver down your spine.
Raphael rolls his eyes. "And I thought you were a cool guy. That's how you come across on TV, anyway." He takes a step towards you both and Charles pushes himself completely in front of you so that you can no longer see Raphael. "Your little girlfriend there is a slut, did you know that? A stupid little whore who-"
"Do you actually like your job? You still work in accounting at this one company, don't you? With the emphasis on 'still'," Charles asks calmly. As your ex takes a step back, Charles takes a step forward. "So if you want to keep it, I suggest you leave Y/N alone once and for all. You won't show up here, you won't call her again, you won't even think about her. And if you even think of telling anyone about this, I'll make sure you can't find a job anywhere. Do you understand me?" When your ex doesn't answer, Charles takes another step, causing Raphael to flinch and almost fall down the stairs. "Did you hear me?"
"Clearly and distinctly."
"Good." You can hear Charles' friendly smile. "Have a good evening, then." He looks after Raphael, who quickly scurries down the stairs, and only turns to you as the front door slams shut.
But instead of asking you if everything is all right, he storms past you into the apartment without a word. You quickly close the door behind you, follow him on foot and find him in the bedroom, where he pulls a large sports bag out of the chest of drawers, which he carelessly throws onto the rumpled bed. He starts to clear out the closet.
"Charles?" you ask hesitantly, but remain standing in the doorway. "What are you doing?" When he doesn't answer, but pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and taps on it briefly before pocketing it again, you enter the room. "Charles? Say something, please."
"What do you want to hear from me?" he asks coldly, grabbing some clothes from the closet. Only when you take a closer look do you realize that these are your clothes that didn't fit in your small suitcase.
"I don't know," you answer helplessly. "What are you doing here?"
He doesn't even look at you. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm packing your things." He stuffs one of your shirts into the small side pocket. "So we can finally move out of here."
Confused, you look at him and sit on the edge of the bed. Far enough away from him. "What do you mean?"
"Do you really think you're going to stay here one more day after your crazy ex turned up? You were going to move out anyway, so we might as well get this over with."
You had told him that you were leaving this apartment, but you never expected him to throw you out of the apartment himself. Especially not today, when he wasn't supposed to be in Monaco, but in Italy. "Are you kicking me out?"
Charles zippers up the bag before placing it next to the suitcase and pulling the next bag out of the dresser and fills it with clothes. "Didn't you listen to me? We're moving out. I'm not leaving you alone in this apartment for another moment."
Charles's change of mood almost gives you whiplash. Yesterday he threw the nastiest words at you, made you cry and hurt you so much that you were seriously considering leaving the country. And now he's standing there packing your things into sports bags because he what? Doesn't want your ex to come back here to harass you again?
Puzzled, you sit on the bed while Charles goes through the apartment and collects all the personal belongings he can find.
Why is he here when he's supposed to be in Italy? Why is he packing your things so that you can move out of this apartment if he doesn't care about you? And the biggest question is - how does Raphael know Charles? What races was he talking about? Why does he know him from TV?
Who is Charles Leclerc?
"Here, get changed," he snaps you out of your thoughts and throws you a pair of sweatpants and the white sweater he was wearing in the bookstore. "It's freezing outside and I don't want you to freeze to death." He grabs the bags and disappears out of the bedroom to give you some privacy.
You quickly change, pull his sweater over your head and as you breathe in his scent, you could cry. The fact that Charles is here, defending you after he treated you so badly, confuses you so much that you don't know which way is up and which way is down. After yesterday, you hate him, you want to hate him, but Lando's words haunt your mind and apparently there's some truth to them, because otherwise Charles wouldn't have driven all the way to Monaco in the middle of the night.
But why is he here? Why did he leave his meetings so much earlier? Did he feel guilty? Did Lando talk to him? Why is he back here with you after just one day?
He doesn't even look at you when you leave the bedroom in his clothes. He just grabs the bags and your suitcase and you're about to ask him if you should carry something too, but he's already disappeared out of the front door and into the dark hallway. You quickly grab the last of your belongings and follow him down the stairs, but instead of heading for the underground parking garage, he leaves the house and heads towards the street.
"Where are you going?" you ask, out of breath, when you finally catch up with him. Without a word, he stops in front of a black car with a red and white stripe across it. It looks expensive, much more expensive than your old Renault, which is only confirmed by the horse on the hood and rims. "Whose car is this?"
"Get in," he says curtly as he unlocks the luxury ride and starts to put the bags away. When you don't move, he turns to you. "I won't say it again. Get in the damn car, Y/N."
"Why?" you ask, confused and also a little desperate. "Why would I get in the car with you? Give me one good reason."
Annoyed, he runs his hand through his hair so that it stands on end. "Either you get in the car now or I'll make you. It's your decision."
You cross your arms in front of your chest. By now you're annoyed by his behavior. "You can't force me."
"You bet I can." He takes a step closer so that you can feel his warm breath on your face. "Get in the fucking car."
There's a twinkle in his green eyes that stops you from challenging him. Silently, you get in on the passenger side of the car and plop down on the leather seat as Charles circles the hood. A few minutes later, as you're driving along Monaco's streets, the silence between you is unbearable.
"Where are we going?" you ask, but get no answer. The Monegasque drives the car over the asphalt with an angry look on his face, even driving too fast, but he doesn't seem to care. "At least you can tell me where you're taking me. You owe me that after you dragged me out of the apartment."
"We're going to my other place."
You raise an eyebrow in confusion. "The one Annika lives in?"
Charles takes a turn without using his blinker. "Yes."
"And how do you picture that?" You turn in his direction. "You want me to share the apartment with your ex? Are you completely insane?"
He exhales loudly. "She won't be there when we get there."
"We? What do you mean 'we'?"
"I have to stay somewhere. Now that we both can't stay in the second apartment anymore."
Your voice sounds a little shrill as you answer him. "I wasn't planning on moving out of one apartment so I could move into another with you. Drive me to a hotel or somewhere else, but I don't want to live with you."
After all, he was the reason you wanted to move out of the apartment in the first place. He treated you badly, let you down - why should you spend another night with him? Especially since he still seems angry with you?
As the car comes to a halt, he looks over at you. "I don't care what you want right now. You're staying here tonight where I know you're okay and that asshole can't get too close to you. Tomorrow you can throw every insult you can think of at me, but right now you do what I tell you. Do you understand me?"
His authoritative and commanding tone leaves no room for discussion, so you just nod silently and get out of the car. You are in an underground parking garage, similar to the other one, but there are other cars here. Expensive cars, like the Ferrari you drove here in.
Are these all his cars? Where did Charles get the money for a Ferrari? What-
"Come on. I won't wait forever." His voice brings you back to reality and like a toddler you follow him out of the garage, into the elevator and finally into the apartment, which is surprisingly empty. You don't have a moment's peace to look around as Charles has already unlocked a room and put your things inside.
"The guest room is unused." He takes a deep breath and exhales. "I know it's not the best solution for everything here, but I can't change it now. If you want to move out tomorrow, then do so. But please do me a favor and stay here tonight." His expression is softer and his voice is a little warmer than it was a few minutes ago, but that doesn't make you forget how the evening went.
"I'll be gone in the morning," you reply stubbornly, but you can feel your heart beating fast. Charles just nods and leaves you in the hallway so that you can enter your room undisturbed and keep to yourself.
After closing the door behind you, you take off your warm clothes and fall onto the bed in your underwear without turning on the light. It is unused, the comforter is spread out on the mattress and the pillows feel as plush as if they had just been fluffed up. But as soon as your head touches the soft fabric and you breathe in, you are completely enveloped in Charles' scent. And you can't stop the tears streaming down your face as your body finally comes to rest.
The fact that Raphael suddenly turned up on your doorstep in the middle of the night has already thrown you off course. You never expected him to have the nerve to show up at your place - a pretty stupid thought when you remember that he had already tried to find you there recently. But actually seeing him, listening to his garbage, really ruined the evening that Lando had actually saved so far.
And then came Charles, your knight in shining armour, who stood up for you so heroically and defended you, even though he had broken your heart just one day before.
His behavior is completely at odds with what he's doing.
He drags you out of the apartment so that Raphael can no longer find you there, but forces you to go with him to this apartment, even though he knows that you don't want to have anything more to do with him.
He packs your things, wants you to spend the night with him so he can be sure you're safe, but is so cold and dismissive to you that you might think Charles has multiple personalities.
And then there's the fact that Raphael seems to know him. Even his full name. And he didn't pronounce it the way you do with people you just haven't seen for a long time but happen to meet on the street. His intonation was different, as if the name Charles Leclerc carried weight, as if he was something special, as if you had to know him. But who the hell is Charles Leclerc?
Is he the man who took you in when you didn't know where to go? The one in whom you found a friend you never really wanted to miss? The one you fell in love with without even wanting to?
Or is he the man who hurt you, rejected you, only to stand up for you in a domineering and possessive way? The one who took your heart and trampled on it, only to do everything he could to keep you safe a day later?
Who is Charles Leclerc?
Your shoulders shake and your breath comes in painful gasps as you wrap your arms around your middle and press your face into the pillow. Your throat feels constricted, your blood is pounding in your ears and your heart is beating so fast it feels like it wants to jump out of your chest. And this headache. They make you blind and deaf, which is why you don't notice the door to your room quietly opening and then falling back into the lock.
Only when you feel the mattress lower behind you do you realize that Charles is with you. You want to turn to him, scream at him and send him packing, but you don't get the chance. Your tears stifle every sound and your body is shaking so badly that you can do nothing but lie there.
You don't question it when you feel Charles' chest against your back. "I'm here," he whispers softly as he wraps his arm around you and hugs you tightly. His other hand finds its way into your hair, which he strokes gently as his touch warms you. "It's all right, mon amour. I'm here," he repeats, tangling his bare legs with yours to pull you even closer to him. Not a piece of paper, not even a hair fits between you.
Charles' skin is soft and smooth against yours, you feel the tiny hairs of his forearm against yours as he reaches out to grab your hand and finally intertwines your fingers. It feels like they were made for this. As if you were made for him.
You want to turn around, to look at him, but his iron grip around your middle won't allow it, so you just press yourself against him, as close as you can, to be enveloped by him. By his smell, his warmth. Him.
"Charles," you sigh into the darkness and feel the tip of his nose against your neck.
"I'm here, mon amour." He presses a feather-light kiss to your bare shoulder. "I'm here as long as you'll let me."
next part
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc prompt#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc imagine#carlos sainz jr#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fanfiction#charles leclerc cute#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#lando norris#charles leclerc one shot#Charles Leclerc angst#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc fluff#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1#f1 imagine
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Professor Rapline
Summary: Mr. Kim is your English Literature and Poetry teacher and while he is known for being a strict teacher is he is also hot. So incredibly hot! So when he gives you an outlet for all your exam stress how can you possibly say no? Little do you realize it wont be just him you are getting pleasure from
Paring: Namjoon/Reader focused! Eventually Yoongi/Reader Hobi/Reader
Word Count: 15K
Rating: M/18+ because smut
Tags: A/U, Professor/student relationship,slow burn, flirting, pet names, Joon calls her princess Yoongi calls her Kitten, Hobi calls her baby, dirty talk, spanking, hand jobs, blow jobs, cum licking, eating out, sex, so much sex, basically she gets fucked three times in one night, choking, face fucking, power dynamics, dry humping.
Authors Note: I was possessed by a horny demon when I wrote this. This idea has been stuck in my head for months and once I started writing I didn't want to stop. This is a work of fiction and I do not recommend fucking your professors.
No one warned you about Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Jung Hoesok.
But then again, you doubted you would have believed them if they did.
It was the last semester before your time at University would be over for good, and honestly, you couldn’t wait. You were over the long nights studying, the assignments that had to be handed in on time or you would lose marks, and the group projects that were just as pointless as they were frustrating.
You had done everything you wanted to do, you went to the parties, kissed random strangers in bathrooms, and even hooked up with a few. You had a boyfriend for three months and decided it was better for you to be single and now you were ready to graduate and move on with your life.
Which found you sitting in the Academic Adviser’s office nervously shifting in your chair as you watched her go through your file. The office was painted a soft blue color and the heater was pumping out hot air on blast making the whole space dry and stuffy. As you wait, you unwound your scarf from your neck and placed it on your lap.
Her eyes met yours and she smiled softly at you.
“Well Miss Y/L/N it seems that you have a bright shining future that’s for sure. You have a wonderful file here and honors too, you must be proud.” She said beaming at you as you crossed your legs nervously and unzipped your coat.
You understood that it was the dead of winter outside but did it have to be so incredibly stuffy in here?
“Thank you. So I’m on track to graduate? Everything looks good?” You ask leaning forward in the chair.
“Well here’s the thing…” She trails off as she pushes her glasses back on her nose and scans the computer again.
Your heart drops.
“As I said bright and shining future for sure but you are missing just one credit. If you are unable to fit another class in this semester you would be unable to graduate.” She says with a frown as you see her eyes scan the computer to double check as your heart drops down to your boots.
There is no way.
You spent four years busting your butt, there was no way you were going to stay any longer than you had to.
“I can fit another class in! Which class do I need?” You ask in a panic as she clicks some more on the mouse and you watch her concentrate on the screen.
“Well, the good news is you just need one more elective class. The bad news is most of them are filled up…well. Except…” Her voice trails off again as you squirm in your seat, panic taking over.
“Whatever it is I’ll take it!” You respond eagerly.
“Miss Y/L/N it’s English literature and poetry with Mr. Kim.” She says in a serious tone as her eyes finally leave her monitor to look at you.
“Okay fine sign me up!” You say as you lean so far forward you are almost pushed right against her desk.
“Miss Y/L/N I understand you want to graduate on time but you must know. His class is notoriously known for being… quite difficult. I never want to slander a teacher but Mr Kim is very serious about his job and a lot of students come to me trying to drop his class.” She says staring at you with a serious look on her face.
You had no idea who Mr Kim was. The campus was so big you hardly knew where half the rooms were let alone half the teachers. But you had to graduate on time. You were not about to spend more money to have to go back to school for one elective course. There was just no way.
“That’s fine sign me up.” You say boldly as she frowns at you and types away on her computer. Well-manicured nails fly along the keyboard.
“Only if you are sure, you can always change your mind.” She says as you nod and she clicks something, you assume it’s to enroll you into his class.
"Okay, you are set. The class is on Wednesday nights at six pm. His classroom is 0994B which is in the basement.” She says as she pushes her glasses off her face to stare at you again.
“If you have any trouble at all please let me know.” She says as you nod and gather your things. You wrap your scarf around your neck and wave goodbye, leaving the stuffy office to head to the textbook shop to grab your book, having no idea what you just agreed to.
.........................
Two days later you found yourself searching the basement for the classroom you are looking for. While the University is beautiful with a rich history the basement is spooky and dark, especially in January when the nights are long and you rarely get sunlight.
Just as you approach the door you see a paper taped to it and you frown.
Basement heater is broken. Mr Kim’s class moved to 0294.
You let out a frustrated sigh and begin to ascend the stairs, hiking your messenger bag up on your shoulder as you climb.
The second floor is much nicer than the basement and you luckily find the new classroom with ease. You slip inside and take stock of the students. The lecture hall is large and set up like a theater with a podium at the front and the seats ascending upwards. You see most of the front rows are already taken with giggling girls.
You made your way to the back and plopped your things down in a seat slightly to the right of where the empty podium sat. You pulled out your phone to make sure it was on silent and as you took out your textbook and pens you couldn’t help but overhear the girls in front of you talking.
“That’s not a reason to take this class! I’m not carrying you though because you only signed up for this class because Mr. Kim is hot.” A blonde girl teased her friend as her friend shushed her and giggled.
“Come on that’s why people try and survive his class. He’s such a hardass but so nice to look at it makes up for it!” Her friend teased as both girls dissolved into giggles.
You wondered what the hell they were talking about. Mr Kim was hot? You had many English teachers throughout your years and they all were mostly the same type of person. Lanky, nerdy, either a tortured poet or a Shakespeare lover. You never pictured your teacher to be attractive at all and now thoughts of what he could look like clouded your mind.
But it didn’t take long for you to find out.
The second the door opened the entire class fell silent.
No one warned you about Mr. Kim.
But you’re sure if they did you wouldn’t believe them
Hell, you didn’t believe the girls who were sitting in front of you until you saw it with your own two eyes.
He was tall and handsome with blonde hair slicked back from his forehead and eyes narrowed as he looked through the crowd of students. When his eyes met yours you shivered but he didn’t linger as he made long strides towards the podium and set his brown briefcase down on the floor.
He took out a small laptop and set it up as you watched him in fascination. He was no doubt handsome and even though he had not spoken a word he had already commanded the class to be quiet.
It was quite impressive.
He took his time fiddling with the laptop as the class stayed deathly quiet. Once he got everything hooked up and the projector running he finally addressed the class.
“Hi I’m Mr Kim and I’ll be teaching you English lit and poetry.”
And then he smiled
When he smiled two beautiful dimples appeared on his cheeks and you knew you were undeniably screwed.
Not only was his class notorious for being difficult, but it also didn’t help he was drop-dead gorgeous.
Well, shit.
Your small crush on Mr. Kim lasted well in February. As the ground started to thaw and the days were very slowly becoming longer you spent most of your time buried in a book trying not to drown in your coursework.
While Mr. Kim was in fact the hottest man you had ever seen, the rumors were true and he was also a hardass about his subject.
By the second week, twelve people had dropped his class. He didn’t seem to mind or even acknowledge it, he just kept teaching.
By the time the first month was over twenty people had left and the class had once again been moved. This time to a small lecture hall on the same floor that was a lot more cozy and less intimidating than the original one.
You hardly noticed how many people dropped the class come March as midterm exams were approaching and you were too worried about your grades and future to worry about anyone else.
Your crush on Mr. Kim even took a backseat as you spent most of your time in the library, wistfully staring out the window at the sunny days wishing you were outside instead of in a stuffy old library going over poems written by people who had passed away ages ago.
In the last week of March, you got a break. Mr. Kim was teaching about Robert Frost and going over the poem “Nothing Gold Can Stay.” You were lucky enough to study that poem in high school so you sneakily took out your psychology homework and began to work on that, nodding and making occasional eye contact with Mr. Kim so he thought you were paying attention.
Lucky for you, you had finished most of the essay during Mr. Kim’s lecture. Unlucky for you class had ended five minutes ago and everyone had left the lecture hall, leaving you sitting there alone typing while Mr. Kim packed up his stuff.
You were so absorbed in your work you didn’t notice his hard gaze on you, how his eyebrow quirked when he saw how concentrated you were, and how he let out a low sigh as he made his way up the steps to approach you.
You did however notice when he was about two feet away from you and you gasped and slammed your laptop lid shut in alarm
“Miss Y/N.” He said smoothly as he took a seat in the aisle opposite yours and smiled softly at you.
You felt a blush appear on your cheeks as you hastily tried to come up with an excuse.
“Please Y/N tell me what you were working on. I know you aren’t typing that much about Robert Frost.” He teases as he stretches out his legs and you can see his slacks stretch under the pressure of his thick thighs.
“I-Mr. Kim, I’m so sorry. I…well I studied Robert Frost in high school and I have this big psychology essay that is due and I just wanted to get a head start on it.” You admit shyly as you shove your laptop in your messenger bag and gather your things.
You stand up to leave but a strong hand stops you.
“My class and Psych? I’m impressed.” He says as his hand leaves your arm but you can still feel the heat from where he touched you, your heart pounding in your chest.
“Well, I… yeah I need Phych and I needed one more class to graduate so I picked yours.” You admitted as you stood there in front of him.
“And the Academic advisor let you do this? Take both?” He asks as he remains seated and gestures to the chair you vacated. Knowing he wasn’t going to kick you out of his class you graciously sat down, placing your bag on the floor.
“I…well I kind of didn’t give her a choice. I don’t want to come back for a year to take one course.” You admit.
He smiles at you, dimples present and you feel pleasure bloom in your chest.
“That’s very admirable of you. I’m sure she warned you about me and my class and you still decided to go for it? I like that.” He says.
You nod not sure of what to say.
“What do you want to be when you get out of here? What are your goals?” He asks you breaking the silence.
“I want to be a high school teacher. Educate the future generations.” You say shyly as his smile grows bigger.
You smile back at him.
“Ah. Very admirable. A girl after my own heart.” He teases and you feel yourself blush at his praise.
You both lapse into silence and you feel your heart hammer against your chest. He is staring at you softly and you slowly reach out to play with the hem of your skirt, hands desperate to do something so you don’t reach out for him.
“I’m sorry for keeping you late Sir. I should let you go.” You say as you gather your things and almost miss the way his Adam’s apple bobs when you call him sir.
You don’t waste any time and make your way down the stairs, leaving Mr. Kim still in the seat watching you go.
“Y/N?” He calls back for you as you stop and turn to face him. He looks so nonchalant sitting there, and so incredibly handsome you bite your lip to stop yourself from saying something stupid.
“I'll speak to Mr. Min about your caseload and see if he can ease off a bit. He can be kind of a hardass.” He says as he stands up and stretches and you can’t help but sneak a peak when his cream-colored sweater rises to show a flash of taunt skin.
Fuck.
“Oh, Mr. Kim you don’t have to it’s okay.” You say flushed at his generosity as he makes his way towards you to gather his things.
“It’s okay I have to talk to him about something anyway. I won’t mention your name I’ll just tell him to lay off a bit.” He assures you as you nod.
You wish him a good night and make your way out of the classroom. Your hands grip the straps of your messenger bag tightly as you hurry across campus to your car. By the time you get into your car, you are sure the flush on your face is gone, but the butterflies in your stomach are fluttering around like crazy.
April.
The dreaded month of April.
April was prep for exam season and you were once again buried in your books. Spring was finally here and when it wasn’t raining buckets you spent your time outside, spreading your books on the picnic tables as you got to work catching up on things you had to finish before exams.
After your essay for Mr. Min, his class did seem to get easier. You never asked Mr. Kim about it, instead, you pretended to be oblivious about the whole thing though you did have a feeling a conversation was had because you noticed Mr. Min staring at you more than usual as he taught.
Every free hour was spent studying or revising or writing essays so you hardly had time to think of that day with Mr. Kim. How gorgeous he looked sitting across from you, and how his cream-colored sweater fit his body perfectly and showed off his sculpted chest and broad shoulders.
You only let these thoughts run ramped late at night, when the stress of the day caught up to you and you wondered what would happen if he did lean in and kiss you. How soft his full lips would feel against yours. Would he be soft with you or would he be in control and command you just as he did that first day when he walked into the room?
Often times you would let your hand wander into your underwear and you would circle your clit. Imagining it was his strong deft fingers instead of your own. You would imagine him pinning you against the wooden podium and pulling down your pants to finger you.
How his huge body would cage you in and how he would whisper dirty things in your ear, his voice low and gruff as he would prep you to take his cock.
Most times you could cum around your fingers thinking of him. Wondering what it would be like to have someone as tall and handsome as Mr. Kim fucking you.
The weather was getting even warmer and your stress was at an all-time high. At this point, you lived off coffee and would often take it to class with you as you worked.
Mr. Kim was going over the structure of your final exam and as much as you tried you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open. You had slept a total of three hours last night and his late-night classes were getting to you.
You fought your body as much as you could. Trying to take notes, trying to focus but before you knew it your eyes were shut and you were snoozing softly on your textbook, face smushed cutely into the cover.
Unbeknown to you Mr. Kim had been keeping a close eye on you since your private conversation and he caught you sleeping the moment your head rested on the textbook. He bit back a smile as he continued to address the class.
You had slept for half an hour. You were awoken by a strong hand lightly shaking your arm and you looked up to see Mr. Kim staring down at you, his lips curved in a smile as you blushed with embarrassment.
“Oh my god Mr. Kim I’m so sorry I just- I don’t even know what to say this is so embarrassing and I missed most of what you said about the exam and oh my god I can’t believe I fell asleep in class what’s wrong with me!” You babbled on as you frantically shoved all your stuff in your bag and avoided eye contact with him.
You were sure he was beyond mad. A student falling asleep in his class is super disrespectful.
“Y/N deep breaths please, I don’t want you hyperventilating in my class.” He teases you with a smile as you freeze and turn to look at him.
“I am so sorry!” You cry out as you bury your face in your hands and stare at the floor.
“It’s okay really.” He says as his hands circle your wrist to pry your hands away from your red face.
His big hands engulf your wrists and you let out a shaky breath as your mind goes haywire at his soft touches.
He is staring at you with concern written all over his face and you look around, once again the classroom is empty except for the two of you.
“It’s not Mr. Min this time I swear! It’s just exams and revisions and I want to keep my honor roll so I have to work hard I haven’t been sleeping much because of all the work and I’m so so sorry!” You blurt out eyes shifting from his sharp eyes to his plush lips that are still drawn up into a smile.
He catches you staring and cocks an eyebrow
You were really in trouble now.
“Y/N you have big dreams and it’s amazing how much you are taking on. Honestly when you told me your plan and the courses you are taking I was and am very impressed. You should be proud of yourself.” He says lowly. You glance down to see his hands are still holding your wrists steady and you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat pounding against your skin.
“Thank you.” You whisper out hearing your voice echo in the empty room.
“Being an almost University graduate can be stressful and challenging.” He starts as his thumb caresses your wrist and up into your palm.
You can’t help it, you bite your lip in anticipation as his fingers work your skin soothing you but also making your heart beat faster.
“It really is. I just want to graduate and be done.” You admit shyly as his sharp eyes are locked on yours.
“I totally understand that. I remember those days. I lived off coffee and ramen.” He admits standing up from his crouch to sit on the chair right next to yours, his thick thighs bumping against your knee as he lets go of your hands to get situated.
“Mind you I wasn’t trusted in the kitchen so my roommates did most of the ramen cooking.” He teases as you giggle.
He runs a hand through his hair and pushes it back from his forehead. The tension in the room is thick and you can’t stop staring at his lips, your mind flashing to two nights ago when you came around your fingers moaning his name.
He clasps his fingers together on the table and your eyes dart down to them. He grins when he catches you staring and you blush further.
“I guess what I want to say is it’s important to study hard but also important to take breaks when you need to. Stress can do major damage to the body.” Mr. Kim advises as you nod wordlessly at him.
“What do you do for fun? That’s not schoolwork? Do you have an outlet of some kind?” He asks softly.
You were sure it was wildly inappropriate to tell him that you orgasm to relieve stress so instead you tell him a little about yourself and your life.
How your parents live a ten-minute drive from the University so you never felt the need to stay on campus. How you like to take your dog on walks when the weather is nice and how he wears a little raincoat on days when it drizzles. You tell him about your friends and how you try to get together for movie nights but you all are so swamped with school you haven’t had time.
He listens intently and soon enough you realize you are blabbing so you shut up much to his dismay.
“You sound like you have good hobbies though maybe a balancing problem. You need to work hard but also play hard too. This is University after all that’s why people party so much to get rid of all the stress from teachers like me.” He says with a laugh as you laugh along beside him.
You explain how you did go to the parties in your first year but grew out of them and he nods along in understanding.
“I get that. And with being so close to the end I get you want to rush through and graduate to get it over with but you have to find outlets to relieve all the stress. Once you get into the workforce you’ll still have this stress and even though I’ll let it slide you fell asleep in my class the workforce won’t be so gracious.”
You nod along at his words as he adjusts himself in the seat, his knee bumping yours and sending your heart racing once more.
“I am truly sorry Mr. Kim I have never fallen asleep in a class before in my life.” You admit to him, brushing your hair behind your ears.
“Ah, so I must have been boring you.” He jests which has you protesting right away.
“No not at all! I would never think that of you!”
He smiles at your words and you push your knee into his as silent reassurance.
His eyes dart down to your lips and back up again and you smirk at him.
“So what you need to do is find an outlet for all that stress and built-up frustration. Some people choose to drink, but I think you might be over that, some people choose to lift weights or run. But there are…other options you know.” He says letting his voice dip dangerously low and you stare at him in shock when he winks at you.
Is he suggesting what you think he is suggesting?
Because if he is?
How the hell do you even say no to that?!
“I-uh. I’m not sure what you mean….sir.” You say putting on your best sultry voice and watching as a slow smirk appears on his face.
So he does mean what you think he means.
Well….wow.
“You know a lot of people have….experiences in University. Great time to get to know yourself and what you want…and like.” He hints as you push your knee boldly into his and his smirk grows wider.
The tension in the room is palatable at this point and you can almost feel the want radiating off both of your bodies.
You don’t want this flirting to end so you tease him some more, seeing how far you can take it.
“Oh, I already went through all that. Too bad University boys half the time don’t know what they are doing. Such a shame I have to do it myself.”
His eyes widen and his tongue darts out to lick at his dry lips. You wink back at him and feel him once again push his knee into yours with more force.
Your body is on fire when you lean in closer to him, letting his cologne cloud your senses.
“What a pity.” He almost growls out as you look up at him fluttering your eyelashes.
Boldly he unclasps his hands and places one on your knee, the same knee that is currently pressing into his under the table.
You let out a small gasp when his hand sneaks into the inside of your knee and his thumb caresses your other leg.
You wish with all your heart that today of all days you had chosen to wear a skirt instead of jeans but your skin is on fire as he traced fine lines into your jeans, eyes not leaving yours.
Neither of you speak as his hand climbs higher. The rational part of your brain is screaming for you to stop this because he is your professor, your teacher, your senior, but the horny part of your brain is begging his fingers to climb higher where he would for sure find you soaked for him.
Before you can do or say anything he squeezes your thigh and you let out a squeal of shock when his hand leaves you, before you know it he is standing up and making his way down the stairs back to the podium seemingly unbothered and unaffected by the whole thing.
You realize this is him dismissing you so you grab your things and make your way down the stairs. Trying to hide how aroused you are and how badly your pussy is aching for his touch.
When you make it to the podium, messenger bag slung over your shoulder he looks up at you and reaches out to hand you a little white card.
You see it's blank on one side but when you turn it over you see an address scrawled on the back.
His address?
“Pity University boys don’t know how to please a woman. As I said you need an outlet for all that stress. Friday night come to this address. Seven pm.”
Your eyes widen in shock
He was inviting you to his house?
“I- I don’t know what to say.” You admit still holding the card in your outstretched hand and as you stare him down.
“Show up or don’t your choice ultimately.” He says closing his laptop and packing up his things for the night.
“What if someone finds out? Or sees this card?” You ask him with a tilt of your head.
He chuckles softly.
“No one ever has before. I’m not too worried. But if you are… don’t show up. Shred the card.” He offers as he shoves stuff in his briefcase not bothering to look at you.
“You’ve done this before?” You ask hating how your voice sounds so scandalized. As if you weren’t egging him on the entire time.
“I think you know the answer to that Miss Y/N.” He says with a cock of his eyebrow as he places his briefcase down and finally locks eyes with you.
“I see the way you look at me. They all have the same look. The want. The desire. I’m just here to get a paycheck and maybe have some fun. Though I will forwarn you if you do show up you will be punished for sleeping in my class.” He adds with a smirk as you gasp.
“Balls in your court Y/N. And if you do tell anyone well you still have your final exam to write.” He says boldly.
Your mouth drops in shock.
“You're going to fail me if I don’t show up? Are you insane?” You cry out as he smiles down at you.
“If you don’t say a word regardless of whether you show up or not I won’t have to fail you. If it does get out, whether you show up or not…well.” He shrugs as an answer and you gasp at him.
You shouldn’t find this hot.
You really shouldn’t.
“Fine.” You bite back and his eyes sparkle with mischief.
“Have a good night Miss Y/N,” he says gesturing at the door.
Friday you tell your parents you are going to a study group. You have no idea how long this will take or what will even happen so you tell them to not wait up.
The drive is about twenty minutes from your house and you are shaking in anticipation the entire way.
Of course, you didn’t tell a single soul. You knew Mr. Kim was true to his word and you didn’t want to put your grades in the balance so you kept the note hidden in your wallet and double triple checked it before you drove over.
The sun was just starting to set casting everything in a beautiful glow as your hands tapped on the steering wheel and you turned down a side street.
The weather was warm today so you opted for a pale blue sundress with small yellow flowers on it. You dug out your best bra and underwear and tied your hair up to keep it from your face.
Your tote was on the seat next to you filled with textbooks you would never open as you finally made your way to the address and the big house.
It was a two-story white house with white shutters and a long driveway with three separate cars parked. You decided to park on the road and you pulled out the card to double-check again as the door opened and you saw Mr. Kim standing there staring at you.
You never told him you were coming but you guess he was ready anyway because when you grabbed your things and closed the car door he was smiling at you.
He looked so different than how he did in the classroom but still drop-dead gorgeous. His blonde hair was pushed back from his face in his signature style, he was wearing a black tight shirt and grey tight sweatpants that had your mouth watering.
He looked so good.
It really wasn’t fair.
“Hi.” You said softly as you made your way to the door.
He smiled at you and quickly ushed your inside as you took in your surroundings.
The living room was a good size with a big couch and a TV. Of to the side, there was a galley kitchen and you smiled when you remembered he said he was a terrible cook. You saw a staircase off the kitchen and a small bathroom off the living room.
“Mr. Kim thank you for this.” You start but he shushes you with a finger pressed to your lips.
“Please. I’m Namjoon. We don’t need the professional titles here.” He says as you kick off your shoes timidly and he puts a hand on the small of your back to bring you over to the couch.
“Namjoon.” You say his name as he smiles down at you when you both sit.
“Exactly. Or you can call me sir if you're into that.” He teases with a smirk as you blush.
“I think you are the one who would like that…sir… I saw the way you reacted when I called you that.” You tease back suddenly feeling bold as you drop your bag on the hardwood floor.
“You little tease. And getting all dolled up just for me, You shouldn’t have.” He mutters as his fingers come to play with the small straps holding the dress up.
“Yeah, you like it?” You smirk, standing up and swishing your dress around, giving him a full view of your legs.
His hands grab your hips and he pulls you down on his lap as you straddle him staring at him with lust-blown eyes.
“You absolute tease.” He grumbles as his hands come to play with the straps once more, taking his time to pull them slowly down your shoulders and letting them hang.
“What do you want?” He asks staring up at you not daring to make another move until you answer his question.
“You.”
Without warning he leans forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss. You put your hands on his shoulders for support as you kiss him back.
His lips are just as soft as you imagined and you take your time with him, letting him control the kiss as he pushes his body into yours.
You feel his half-hard cock in his sweatpants and when you grind down on it a small moan leaves his mouth.
His hands run up and down your thighs and finally settle on your waist as he kisses you harder pushing his lips into yours and nibbling on your lower lip.
You moan at the feeling and his tongue darts in your mouth to rub against your tongue.
You rake your hands through his soft hair and grab the hair at the nape of his neck as you push your body into his, letting your breasts press into his chest and making more moans fall from his mouth.
This was hands down the hottest makeout session you have had and you start to feel yourself grind against him as pleasure courses through your body.
He pulls away and grins lazily up at you as you continue to rock your core against his now fully hard cock.
“Bend over my lap I promised I’d punish you, princess.” He says as you stare down at him and continue your grind on his cock, the sensation too good to stop.
“What if I don’t want to be punished?” You tease him as he rolls his eyes at you.
His hands grab your shoulders as he pushes you down on the couch and in a flash he has your dress hiked up so your ass is on display.
You moan out when you feel his strong hands massage your bare skin.
“Lacy underwear for me? You shouldn’t have,” He jokes as his hand comes down to smack your ass.
The sting causes you to close your eyes and you moan against the cushion when he continues to spank you, ranging from hard spanks to soft little taps.
Your pussy is throbbing at this point and you are almost humping the couch with how aroused you are. Namjoon isn’t letting up though and after ten spanks he is kneading the sensitive skin and praising you.
“Mr. Kim please!”You cry out.
“What did you call me?” He asks, delivering a sharp smack to your left and right buttcheek causing you to push your face into the cushion harder and moan out.
“Namjoon! Namjoon please!” You cry as he lifts you up and once again positions you on his lap. You can feel the hard ridge of his cock and you grind down on it some more.
“What do you want princess?” He asks massaging the skin he spanked raw as you bury your face in his shoulder, turned on beyond belief.
“You. I want you.” You beg out as he smirks and you lift your head.
You don’t waste time grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. You gasp when you are met with toned tan skin, broad shoulders, and a muscular chest.
“God Namjoon your body.” You whimper as you lean down to pepper kisses along his collarbones and chest, arching your back so you can reach more skin and have your core press harder into his cock.
“I could say the same about you.” He says lowly as he pulls the straps of your dress down to free your bra to his hungry eyes.
He quickly gets your bra off and his large hands come to cup your breasts. You throw your head back and moan as his thumbs flick over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure to your already-soaked core.
“God princess I can feel how needy you are, you're soaking my pants.” He says as you look down to see a stain forming on his crotch.
“That’s so fucking hot.” He admits as his hands continue to work your nipples and you continue to grind against his cock chasing your high.
“Princess you're so fucking wet for me I bet I could just slide in huh?” He says as his hands leave your breasts to run down the expanse of your stomach to the hem of your underwear
“Please. Joon. Fuck. Please.” You beg as his hand slips inside and your eyes roll back when he gathers your wetness and begins to circle your clit agonizingly slow.
“Use your words, princess.” He teases as he continues his slow torture on your clit. You throw your head back and grip his strong shoulders for support as you grind against his skilled hand.
“Want you to fuck me. Please, sir. Please.” You whine as he removes his hand and you watch as he licks his fingers clean, sharp eyes never leaving yours.
Your pussy pulses with want and a broken moan leaves your mouth.
“Gotta prep you, princess. Not to brag but I’ve been told I have a big cock. Don’t wanna break my girl before exams.” He teases as he taps your butt so you lift yourself and kneel on the couch giving him full access to your pussy as he pulls your underwear down and completely off leaving you in just your dress with nothing underneath.
He smiles up at you as his finger dips back into your underwear and he circles your clit again. You moan out and grip his shoulders when he inserts a finger inside of you.
You were right when you told him University boys didn’t know what they were doing
You had never experienced something like his before
And it never felt so good being right.
He took his time opening you up on his fingers. Adding another one and scissoring them, making beautiful whines and moans fall from your lips. You already felt close to the edge and when he curled his fingers upwards and thrusted deeper you let go.
Your body arched forward and you cried out his name as you orgasmed around his fingers. He chuckled darkly against your skin as you rode out your high. Feeling yourself pulse around his digits as he worked you through it.
Once you came down you straddled his lap once again and pressed your face into his chest letting your breathing even out as he stroked your hair and praised you for being so good for him.
“Please Namjoon.” You whined out as you pushed yourself up so you were face to face with him.
“Tell me, Princess. Tell your Professor what you want.” He says as you scoot back and stroke his cock through his sweatpants.
“Want you to fuck me Joon.” You beg as he wraps one hand around you to lift you and the other hand tugs at his sweats pulling them down so his hard cock is flush against his stomach.
He was right, his cock was big.
Thick and veiny, the tip was bright red and leaking precum down the shaft. You carefully wrapped a hand around his cock and began to slowly jerk him off, wanting to give him the pleasure he gave you.
“Princess you are too good at that.” He whines out when you twist your wrist at the top making his cock leak more precum.
“Princess you gotta stop I gotta get a condom.” He says as you stop your movements and giggle when he reaches for his wallet you didn’t even notice was on the coffee table and retrieves a condom from it.
Your pussy throbs in anticipation and right as he is about to roll the condom on the door bursts open.
Standing there is Mr. Min your psych teacher and you scream and bury your face in Namjoons shoulder as he looks unbothered by the whole thing.
“Jesus Joon on the couch?! Really? Thought we said bedrooms only!” Another voice says and you look up in time to see another male standing in the doorway. He is beautiful with slightly wavy brown hair and wide eyes, his features are soft giving him a look of unearthly beauty.
“Sorry, it just kind of happened,” Namjoon admits as you are still frozen in shock at the fact your other teacher is here watching the whole thing and seeming so chill about it.
“Mr. Min I’m so- I- shit I don’t know what to say.” You stammer as Mr. Min’s eyes lock on Namjoon’s in a harsh stare.
“You didn’t even tell her Joon? Jesus, do we have to do everything?” He asks as he comes around the couch and you push yourself closer to Namjoon in worry of what will happen.
“Listen Kitten. Come to my room when he’s done fucking you yeah? Up the stairs last door on the right.” He says pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to your back as he walks away from the couch and smacks Namjoon on the back of his head.
“No more fucking on the couch or you’re going to pay the cleaning bill.” He says as he makes his way up the stairs.
Your heart is still hammering in your chest and you are frozen in absolute shock
What the fuck is going on?
“Why do you get her first?” The other man complains as Namjoon pushes his head into your shoulder and whines in embarrassment.
“Because I’m her teacher too. She has no idea who the fuck you are!” Mr. Min calls from the top of the stairs in a teasing tone.
The other man comes around the couch and grabs your hand to shake it with a big smile on his face.
“I’m Mr. Jung but you can call me Hobi. We’ve never met but I’m the performing arts teacher. Once these two buffoons are done with you come to my room. I’m the last door on the left.” He sends you a sultry wink and before you know it he is heading up the stairs as well and you are frozen in shock.
“What the fuck.” You whisper as Namjoon is groaning into your shoulder and you look down to see his cock softening between your bodies.
“I… Shit, they are right I should have explained things before we started.” He admits as he pushes his head back to stare at you.
“I’m so confused.” You admit still in shock.
“Yoongi, Um I guess he’s Mr. Min to you, Hobi, and I were roommates at University. After we graduated we couldn’t afford housing alone so we decided to rent a big house and live together. We all work at the same place so it just made sense. Anyway, we found that there are…students who take an interest in us beyond academics and figured why the hell not? We are young and if we want them and they want us and it’s consensual…” His voice trailed off and you nodded.
“Anyway, sometimes we share our students and sometimes we keep them to ourselves. When I talked to Yoongi about how he was stressing out my students he admitted he had an eye for you, but so did I. So we agreed to share as long as I got you first. Hobi is…well he’s Hobi he’s not picky and usually is down for anything. You don’t have to do anything with them if you don’t want to. You can let me fuck you and walk out this door. It won’t affect your grade with Yoongi at all. I should have told you sooner, as soon as you got here but you in that dress…good god I had to get my hands on you.” He says running his hands up and down your hips as you whine and grind against him.
“Again you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You can walk out the door right now, write your exams, and never see any of us again. Your choice princess.” He says.
You shake your head at him and slide off his lap.
You see his face fall.
And quickly turn to shock when you lower yourself down to the floor and engulf his soft cock in your warm mouth.
Namjoon grunts and grabs your hair that has started to fall out of your ponytail to keep it away from your face as you suck him down, loving the feeling of his cock starting to harder in your mouth.
You suck and bob your head as your tongue dances over the sensitive flesh.
“Fuck! Is that a yes then?” Namjoon pants above you as his hands tighten in your hair and force you to look up at him.
“Have sex with the three hottest teachers on campus? I’d be stupid to say no to that.” You tease as you jerk off his quickly hardening cock and get off your knees to get back on his lap and kiss him.
His hands tangle in your hair as he frees it from your ponytail and you kiss him wildly. Your tongues and teeth clash as you feel his now fully hard cock press into your abdomen.
“Fuck me Joon. Please.” You cry out as his hand comes down to spank your ass once more.
“Are you just saying that ‘cause you wanna rush to Yoongi?” He teases as he finally rolls the condom on his cock.
“Nah you made me wait a whole semester. If I wait any longer I’m gonna explode.” You admit as he positions his cock at your entrance and teases your folds with the tip.
“Well, I won’t make my princess wait any longer then.” He says as he inches his cock inside of you.
The sting is immediate and you bury your face in his shoulder as he pushes himself in inch by inch until he is fully sheathed inside of you, his large hands coming up to hold your hips steady and give you time to adjust to his length.
“God I made you cum and your still tight.” He grits out as it’s taking everything in him not to immediately thrust inside of you.
You take your time and slowly move your hips back and forth. His hands grip your sides harshly and he hisses every time you move.
You know he is being a gentleman and waiting for you to adjust and it makes you smile.
“Joon. Move.” You plea as he begins to thrust into you shallowly letting your body get used to the feeling of being stuffed with cock.
You let out a moan when he starts to pick up speed. Your hands rest on his shoulders and you use your legs to fuck yourself on his cock as he picks up the pace and is fucking you rather harshly.
The noise is obscene and you wonder if the other men can hear how Namjoon is fucking you. It makes your pussy clench and Namjoon lets out a hiss as he tilts his hips and pushes his cock deeper inside of you to hit your g spot.
You are moaning above him, hands holding onto his for dear life and feeling the coil of pleasure get tighter and tighter.
He must understand because one hand leaves your hip to come and circle your clit and a high whine leaves your mouth as you feel yourself get closer to the edge.
Namjoon once again picks up the pace and fucks into you harder and you capture his lips in a kiss and before you can warn him you are flying off the edge and cumming hard around his cock.
You whine against his mouth as you ride out your second high of the night and Namjoon fucks you through it. His hand leaves your clit and he continues to pound into you bringing you to the brink of overstimulation before he groans into your neck and cums hard into the condom.
You cry out when you feel his cock twitch deep inside of you and his thrusts become erratic as he works himself through his own high.
You slump your body against his and let your breathing settle as he does the same.
His hands still have a vice-like grip on your hips and when he finally releases them you look down to see they are slightly red.
You grin.
“That was wow.” He says pushing his sweaty hair back from his face as you grin at him feeling euphoric.
“I agree.” You say with a smile as you climb off his lap and try to stand, only to have your legs shake and your body nearly tumbles into the couch.
Namjoon steadies you and takes the condom off his softening cock and ties it up throwing it in a garbage nearby.
You pull the straps of your dress up and search for your bra and underwear but Namjoon stops you.
“Don’t bother, save the others the trouble of taking it off again.” He says which has you gasping.
“Remember you always have a choice. You can walk out the door now or go to Yoongi.” He says as you lean against the couch and smooth everything down trying to at least look presentable.
“You know my answer Joon,” you say as you raise your eyebrows at him.
He stands up and pulls up his underwear and sweatpants. Without warning he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You squeal in delight as he carries you up the stairs and to the last door on the right. He kicks it open with his foot and you find Yoongi hunched in a desk chair working on something on a laptop. His hair is messy under big headphones and he looks up with a slow smirk when Namjoon deposits you on his bed.
“Special delivery. No bra or underwear just a skimpy sundress. You’re welcome.” He teases as he winks at you and closes the door.
Now you are left alone with Yoongi having no idea what to expect.
“Did Namjoon fill you in?” He asks taking off his headphones and saving whatever he was working on.
“Yeah, he did.” You say suddenly breathless at the prospect of getting fucked…again.
“And did he take good care of you? Namjoon is the youngest of the three of us. Gotta make sure we trained him well.” Yoongi says as he rolls his chair over to sit at the foot of the bed, eyes roving over your disheveled appearance.
“Yes Sir.” You say watching Yoongi smirk at you as his hands trace small circles on your legs.
“How are you feeling?” He asks as his fingers take their time with your bare skin.
“Good. A little sore. Namjoon spanked me. But overall good.” You admit as your eyes are glued to his long fingers which are climbing slightly higher with each stroke.
“Why did he spank you kitten? Were you bad?” He mutters lowly as his hands come to your knees to part your legs.
You sit up for him and scoot your butt to the very edge of the bed and let your legs fall open. You hike your dress around your hips and give him a full view.
Yoongi’s eyes darken.
“I have this teacher called Mr. Min. He gave me so much homework I stayed up all night completing it and hardly slept. I fell asleep in Joon’s class so he had to punish me.” You tease as you watch Yoongi’s hands trail higher and higher on your skin.
His cheeks are flushed and his brown hair is falling into his eyes as he watches his hands caress your skin.
“Ah well if it were me I’d do the same thing. Naughty girls get punished.” He says giving your upper thighs a soft smack as you whine.
You start to pout but just as you stick your bottom lip out, he leans forward to kiss you.
You plant your hands on his jean-clad thighs as you lean forward to kiss him back. His lips are soft as he presses them to yours. You flutter your eyes closed and focus on the sensation of his good his lips feel against yours.
You feel your core throb with arousal and you push your lips harder into his, loving the way he grunts against you and tangles his hands in your hair.
You spend awhile just kissing and testing the waters and soon enough Yoongi pulls away and his eyes are dark, clouded with lust and you can see an obvious bulge in his jeans.
“Can I suck your cock?” You ask as you stand up and stare at him.
“Namjoon didn’t let you suck him off?” Yoongi asks as he stands up and takes your spot on the bed. He throws you a pillow to kneel on and you take your spot between his legs palming at his bulge eagerly.
“I mean he did but hardly. Think he was too excited to fuck me.” You admit as Yoongi lets out a quiet laugh and your hands come to pop the button of his jeans open and tug the zipper down. His eyes widen when you see his cock straining against his dark boxers.
“I don’t blame him,” Yoongi mumbles as he pushes his hair back from his face to look down at you kneeling on the floor between his legs.
A sight he wants to commit to memory.
You slowly pull his jeans down and he helps you kick them off. You take in the sight of him, already looking fucked out and you hardly touched him.
“What were you working on when Joon dropped me off?” You ask as you bring your hand up to palm at his erection.
“M-Music. I make music on the side.” He admits as you push your palm into his cock and soak in the moans that are falling from his lips.
“Hard ass Mr. Min makes music on the side? That’s cool.” You tease as his eyes snap open and he stares you down dangerously.
“What did you call me?” He asks in a low voice as you hook your hands into his boxers and he lifts his hips to assist you with pulling them off.
“A hardass? Come on you knew that already.” You tease letting your hands run up and down his hard shaft, smearing the pre-cum all over it as his eyes threaten to flutter closed again.
Before he can reply you lean forward and wrap your lips around his cockhead causing him to moan and lace his fingers tightly through your hair.
You take your time sucking him, loving the feeling of your tongue lapping up his precum and loving even more that you are making big bad intimidating Min Yoongi fall apart.
You slowly take him in deeper and smirk when he grips your hair harder and bucks his cock into your mouth.
You bring your hand up to work in tandem with your mouth and you hollow out your cheeks and continue to suck him.
He throws his head back and whines as you take him deeper. By the time you get his cock down and your nose is brushing against his neatly trimmed pubes, Yoongi has his hands laced through your hair and is grunting above you.
He tastes salty on your tongue and your eyes water when your gag reflex kicks in but you do everything you can to relax your throat and swallow around him.
Rough hands tug at your hair as he pries you off his cock and you look up at him with tearful eyes, as a string of spit is still connected from your mouth to his very red cockhead which is slowly leaking more precum.
“Kitten you are far too good at that.” He complements as you smile up at him and he leans forward to grab your arms to help you up.
You stand on shaky knees as Yoongi grabs you and pushes you down on the bed. You let out a squeal of delight as he flips you onto your back. He hikes up your sundress and lets it pool around your midsection as he eyes your still-soaked core.
“You’re still all puffy for me Kitten.” He comments as one finger comes to trace at your clit and you whine and buck your hips into his hand.
“Mmm Yoongi.” You moan letting your eyes close as he teases your clit with the tip of his finger, his eyebrows scrunched up in concentration and his tongue darts out to lick at the corner of his mouth.
“What do you want kitten"?” He asks plunging a finger inside of you making your body arch off the bed and your hands come to grip the sheets below.
“You. I want you Yoongi. Real bad.” You cry out as he adds another finger without warning and begins to take his time opening you up.
“You already got fucked by one man now you want another so soon. You're such a greedy kitten.” He purrs reaching up to kiss and suck at your neck.
You tangle your hands in his hair and let the sensation of his soft lips on your heated skin take over.
He takes his time plunging his fingers inside of you and stretching you out. You felt like you didn’t need stretching out after Namjoon’s cock but you weren’t about to say anything as Yoongi’s fingers felt like magic.
“Wanna come around my fingers?” He asks as his lips are still sucking at your neck and you are grinding your butt down to meet his thrusts, fucking yourself on his long fingers.
“Would rather cum on your cock.” You admit as his head snaps up and his eyes meet yours. His eyes are dark and lustful and when he pulls his fingers out he licks at them taking his time cleaning them and leaving you whining out on the bed.
“Kitten doesn’t know how to use her words.” Yoongi teases as he sees your frustration but still takes his sweet time.
You frown at him.
“Kitten did use her words you just chose to ignore them.” You fire back which causes Yoongi to pounce on you, resting his whole body weight on yours as you feel his cock press against your center.
“Did you just talk back to me?” He growls as he grabs the base of his cock and runs it through your folds.
“Sorry, Sir. Guess I’m just impatient. You like to take your sweet time.” You answer back not bothering to hide your attitude as Yoongi’s hand wraps around your throat.
Your eyes bulge when he squeezes it and you let out a choked moan when he stares you down with an intensity that has your core throbbing.
His hand tightens on your neck, pressing into your pulse which has it racing against his fingertips. You flutter your eyes closed but with his free hand, he lightly slaps your cheek.
“Look at me when I speak to you. Naughty Kitten comes into the lion’s den to get fucked by three different men. Now she thinks she can sass back to a man who holds her future in his hands. I could fail you right now if I want to. I could squeeze your throat until you passed out. I could throw you up against a wall and fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk for a week. “
Your eyes roll in the back of your head at his words.
“Now are you going to behave or am I going to add to the spankings you already received? Hmm? Gonna drop that attitude yet or still think your hot shit around here.” He growls out as his fingers start to ease on your throat and you expand your lungs taking in as much air as you can.
“Sorry, Sir. I’ll behave.” You say softly as Yoongi smiles down at you and presses soft sweet kisses to your neck, soothing the area he just had his hand wrapped around.
He slowly gets off the bed and reaches over to the nightstand where he pulls out a foil packet. He opens it and rolls it down his hard cock, jerking himself off as he goes.
You watch him work his cock with nimble fingers and soon enough he is on top of you again positioning his cock at your entrance.
“Let me know if it’s too much.” He says softly as he slips his cockhead inside and begins to inch in slowly.
You can’t help but whine when he finally gets all the way in. His hips are flush against yours and you both breathe heavily at the sensation.
He stares down at you with hair falling into his eyes and slowly presses his lips to yours.
The kiss is slow and sweet and the complete opposite of how he choked you earlier. You tangle your hands into his hair and give your body time to adjust.
This time it doesn’t take your body long to adjust and you start to wiggle your hips to give him the signal to move.
“You good Kitten?” He asks pulling away to stare at you.
And what a sight you were.
Hair splayed out on his pillow, eyes blown wide, and cheeks dusted with a pretty blush.
"Please.” You beg as Yoongi begins to thrust inside of you shallowly, slowly picking up the pace as he goes.
His hands are on either side of your head holding himself up as he fucks into you. You tear your eyes away from his gorgeous face to see his biceps bulging and you moan out his name.
The sound of slapping skin, grunts, and moans fill the room and you shift down to meet Yoongi’s every thrust.
But something is missing. You want more.
“Yoongi please.” You cry out when he thrusts into you harder and his cock hits that spot inside of you that has your toes curling and your lips parting in an obscene moan.
“Again Kitten use your words. Did we teach you nothing? Fuck.” He cries out as he tilts his hips to get a better angle deep inside of you.
“Choke me. Please fuck. Yoongi.” You beg as your hands come up to claw at his back.
He stops his movements. Completely stills and you whine at the loss of friction.
“You…sure?” He asks staring down at you with eyes wide. Like he couldn’t believe you had just said that.
“Please.” You beg as Yoongi smirks and slips out of you.
You let out a frustrated noise as he positions himself at the foot of the bed and taps his bare lap, signaling you to come over and ride his cock.
“Can’t hold myself up and choke you kitten. You have to decide.”
You scramble to the end of the bed and sink down on his cock. He feels so much deeper in this position and when his hand comes up to your neck you let out a moan and feel your eyes flutter closed.
“Fuck your a vision like this with my cock stuffing your pussy and my hand around your throat.” He mutters as you use his cock and begin to ride him.
He has one hand on the bed holding himself up and the other is around your neck.
You are seeing stars, absolute stars. The pleasure from his hand around you slightly choking you and the feeling of his cock stuffing you full has you riding him harder, chasing the high you so desperately craved.
Yoongi pushes a little harder on the sides of your neck and you're a goner. You arch your back up and feel the pleasure that was building and building finally crescendo into an orgasm that punches the air out of your lungs, or maybe that was the fact Yoongi was still fucking up into you wildly and his hand was still wrapped around your throat.
“My pretty Kitten cumming with my cock stuffed inside her and my hand around her pretty neck, fuck you are so hot. What the fuck. What the actual fuck.” He blabbers as he chases his own high and is soon cumming inside of you. His hand leaves your throat to steady himself on the bed so you both don’t topple forward and hit the floor.
You let him ride out his high as you come down from yours. He buries his face in your shoulder and grunts low and dangerous as he finally stills his hips.
He slowly shifts you up and off his lap, plopping you on the bed and standing up so he can crack open a window.
The whole room reeks of cum and sex and you flop back down on his bed putting a hand on your chest to feel your heart beating rapidly.
Yoongi pulls up his boxers and fishes around in his drawers for some looser pants pulling them over his legs before he sits down beside you.
He shoots you a rare smile and you smile back at him.
“So I’m not actually going to fail your class am I?” You tease breaking the silence as he giggles and you smile at him.
“Nah that was a heat of the moment thing. You are top of my class I would have no way of failing you.” He admits and you sit up and stare at him.
“Wait really? I’m top of the class? I…wow. I didn’t expect that.” You say shyly as he messes up his hair and smirks at you.
“How? You actually show up. You hand in assignments. You work hard. There is no reason you shouldn’t be top of my class.” He says and you flush at his praises.
“Even if a teacher had to come to talk to me and tell me to lay off a little bit.” He says with a teasing tone.
“He told me he wouldn’t say specifically who!” You say with a laugh rolling your eyes to the ceiling.
“He didn’t say it was you specifically but I could tell you were working yourself to death and needed a break. Or a release.” He says wiggling his eyebrows as you smack his arm.
Before you can answer there is a knock at the door and you pull your dress down and smooth it out as Hobi appears.
“Ah just in time,” Yoongi says as he smiles up at his friend.
“I know I heard you fucking her.” He grumbles as he leans against the door frame and you take him in.
The other two you were familiar with, but Hobi was a stranger so you took your time.
Your eyes roved his lean dancer’s body and how he leaned up against the door frame and crossed his arms with ease. He looked intimidating except for the small smile on his face.
“Only if you want to Kitten. You can walk out of here now. Your choice.” Yoongi reminds you.
“I don’t want to pressure you but I’m so fucking hard right now,” Hobi admits with a bite of his lips which has you standing up on shaky legs.
In two long strides, he reaches you and holds you steady against his strong frame.
“What did you do to her? She can hardly stand.” He accuses as Yoongi smirks and grabs a sweater on the floor, throwing it over his head and making his way back over to his desk and opening his laptop.
“Have fun kitten.” He says as he winks at you and puts his headphones over his ears.
Hobi leads you out into the hall and you take a shaky breath staring up at his beautiful face.
“Only if you want to.” He says shyly and you nod.
“Words please.” He says crossing his arms and staring you down.
“Yes. I want to. Though I might be extra sore.” You say with a grimace as you feel how tired your legs are and how your ass still stings from Namjoon’s earlier spanks.
Hobi grabs your hands and leads you to his room across the hall. You enter and take in the bright walls and decor and the big bed in the middle.
You can’t help yourself as you flop down on his bed and curl up in a ball. You take in the smell of his bed sheets and you sigh as he comes to sit next to you.
“You don’t have to baby. Seriously I want this to be good for both of us.” He says massaging your back as you peek up to look at him.
“Sorry Hobi I want to. God, I want to. It’s just the last two were…intense.” You admit suddenly feeling shy when he rolls you onto your back and stares down at you.
“How about we take it slow? Let me massage you and we will see where it leads hmm?” He asks and before you can answer he rolls you onto your stomach and his long fingers begin to massage the back of your legs.
You close your eyes and rest your cheek on his bed as he gets to work. He takes his time applying pressure to your sore muscles, digging his thumbs in where he feels like you need a little more pressure being respectful the whole time, and not letting his hands trail too high up your body.
You let out a whine when he massages a particularly sore spot and you spread your legs for him wider, letting his hands dance over the skin of your inner thighs.
“God baby you’re so tight.” He mutters as his hands travel down your calves and back up again earning a broken moan from you.
“So dance teacher huh?” You ask as he continues to work your muscles this time his hand inches high on your hamstrings and you push your face into the mattress at the feeling.
“Yeah, I’ve always loved dance and music and I had some teachers change my life and the way I see dance so I decided I wanted to be just like them. I love what I do.” He says softly as his fingers dig into your flesh and you feel yourself start to relax.
“How come I’ve never seen you on campus?” You ask voice muffled by his sheets as his hands continue to work your right and left leg.
“The dance studio is the furthest away from your building. We are the complete opposite sides of campus. Can’t have us blaring our music and having fun while you are trying to study for a test.” He teases as he gives you a small smack on the ass causing you to jolt and let out a pained whine.
He lifts the skirt of your dress and stares down at the red marks Namjoon left behind. His skilled hands massage the tender flesh and you let out another satisfied moan.
“T-True. But might be nice you know, to see you guys perform, might take away some stress.” You admit as his hands still wander your butt cheeks.
“I thought that’s what we were doing here?” He teases as you crane your neck to look at him and he flashes you a toothy smile.
His hands come to your hips to flip you over to your back. You stare up at his beautiful face and lean yourself up on your elbows capturing his lips in a kiss.
His hands cradle your head and hold you steady as he kisses you back. You feel blissed out as just like the others he takes his time exploring your mouth and pushing his lips into yours.
The kisses are slow and sweet, with no urgency just two people taking their time to get to know each other.
You shift so you are kneeling on the bed and you run your fingers through his dark hair and he sighs happily against your mouth.
You let your hands explore his hair, moving down to his neck and exploring his body.
You grab the hem of his shirt and your lips part so you can pull it off of him.
You press soft kisses to his neck and collarbones and smile against his skin when he throws his head back and whines.
You take your time with his body, kissing every freckle or mole you find as he holds your hair back and allows you to explore.
You stop at the hem of his loose-fitting pants and you can already see a sizeable bulge which causes you to giggle.
"So eager.” You tease as you lean up to capture his lips again and palm at his hard cock. He whines in your mouth as you push your palm into him and make sure to grind against his cockhead.
“You have no idea what it was like. Having to sit in this room and hear Namjoon and Yoongi fuck you. Torture.” He admits as you continue to palm him through the material.
“Did you like hearing how good I was getting fucked?” You say to him as you dance your fingers along his cock which is straining against the material, when you give him a squeeze you realize he is not wearing anything underneath and you gasp.
“Had to take them off. I was so fucking hard my cock needed some room. Didn’t wanna jerk off in case I came. The noises you make. Fuck Y/N I know why Namjoon picked you.” Hobi admits as you pull his pants down and watch as his cock smacks up against his toned stomach.
You take your time circling the base of his cock with your hand and he buries his face in your shoulder and whines at your touch.
You feel yourself start to get wet but you want to take your time and focus on him, he needs this more right now.
“If I make you cum now would you be able to still fuck me?” You ask as you begin to jerk him off, applying just the right amount of pressure and smearing his precum down his aching shaft.
“I-fuck-” He says as you flick your wrist at the top and watch as he bites his lip burying his face into your shoulder harder.
“Words please.” You say with a smirk as he pulls away and stares you down.
“I can tell you have been with Joon and Yoongi. I know I’m too pent up to fuck you right now I probably wouldn’t last. So yes. Please. Make me cum and I’ll fuck you.” He says as you nod and begin to stroke him harder.
He leans up to pull you in for a searing kiss and you tighten your grip on his cock which has him moaning against your mouth.
His hands are tangled wildly in your hair and you continue to jerk his cock harder and faster until he can no longer kiss you and instead is just moaning and whining against your swollen lips.
When you run your thumb under the head of his cock his hips jerk, fucking himself into your fist.
He continues to snap his hips forward and back, using your hand as his own personal fuck toy and you let him, loving the way he throws his head back making his hair push back from his sweaty forehead and the way the veins in his neck strain against his skin.
“Gonna cum for me?” You growl as you watch his eyes flutter open and he nods.
“Cum all over my hand Hobi. Come on now. Be a good boy and cum.” You demand and he loses it.
His body convulses forward and he buries his head back into your shoulder as he cums. Ropes of hot cum coat your fist as you let him work himself through it. He is still fucking up into your tight fist and when he finally stops you release his cock and begin to lap at the cum he left behind.
“Fuckkkk.” He groans out as he watches you lick and suck the cum up, his taste exploding in your mouth as you take your time, keeping your eyes locked on his as you finish the job and completely clean yourself.
“How are you real? Holy fuck how are you real?” He whines out as you smirk at the way his jaw is dropped and his eyes are blown wide.
You smile at him as you drop down on his bed and lie on your back, your knees starting to get sore from all the kneeling you had to do.
Hobi smirks and crawls off the bed, his hands grab at your hips and he pulls you to the very edge of the bed and kneels on the floor. Your eyes widen when his hands come to your knees and he flips up the skirt of your dress and prys your legs open as he gets comfortable between them.
“Gonna eat you out.” He mutters as he places hot kisses on your thighs and you spread them open wider for him.
When his mouth finally gets to your core you are almost shaking on the mattress. He laps at your clit and begins to swirl his tongue around it making you see stars.
Your hands grip the sheets below as you bring your legs up to wrap around his back caging him in place.
He chuckles against your core and continues to suck and lick at your clit, you can hear the wetness of his tongue lapping at your wetness and it makes your pussy pulse.
His tongue runs up and down your slit and he buries his face into your core causing his strong nose to bump against your clit sending you arching off the bed and a broken moan falling from your lips
His hands hold onto your thighs keeping you steady as he licks and sucks, pressing harder and working faster as you feel your orgasm start to build in your lower stomach.
You are squirming on the sheets and his name is falling out of your mouth in a prayer as he works harder and sucks up everything you are giving him
“Ho-Hobi stop you gotta stop.” You cry out as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. Not wanting to fall off too soon.
“Baby your sopping wet for me.” He says as his head pops up between your legs and you see his lips shiny with your arousal, some is even leaking down his chin, and you swear it’s the hottest sight you have ever seen.
“Want you to fuck me Hobi.” You say as you sit up and watch him get up from the floor. His cock is once again rock hard against his stomach and he smiles at you.
He grabs a condom and rolls it onto his cock, pumping himself a few times as he leans down on the bed.
“How do you want me?” He asks as you sit up and close your legs giving him room to sit next to you.
“However you want. I just don’t think I can ride you. I think my legs will literally fall off.” You say with a laugh as Hobi eyes you mischievously.
“Did you ride both Joon and Yoongi?”
You nod.
“Don’t they know there are other positions to choose from? Fuck no wonder you are tired.” He says sitting on the bed beside you and stroking your knee in a comforting way.
“Well Joon I didn’t mind but with Yoongi we had to….for…reasons.” You say blushing at the memory of his hand wrapped around your neck.
“Reasons?” He asks with a cock of his eyebrow.
“He um..was choking me. Consensually of course!” You reply as you choose to stare at the floor instead of Hobi’s surprised face.
“Kinky.” He says with a soft giggle as you face him and smile shyly.
“Okay how about this lay against the headboard feet flat on the bed, I’ll do all the work baby.” He says patting you as you follow his instructions.
You spread your legs as Hobi crawls up the bed towards you. He places his hands on the headboard to hold himself steady and is on his knees running his cock through your folds.
You let out a broken whine and his eyes snap to yours in concern.
“I’m okay just…sensitive.” You admit already knowing that having a third cock inside of you in a short span of time will only make the soreness worse.
“I’ll go easy baby.” He says as he uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips even more and he slides his cock in.
Hobi is just as big as the others and even though you have lost track of how many times you have cum you can still feel a slight stretch as he bottoms out.
You close your eyes and scrunch your face, letting your body get used to the sensation as he stills and gives you time to adjust.
“Fuck you are so wet inside. Your soaking my cock baby. So fucking wet. And all for me.” He mutters in your ear causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.
He starts to thrust shallowly inside of you and you bring your knees closer to your chest giving him more access to your core as he starts to pound into you with force.
Hobi is skilled with his hips and you can see why he would be a good dancer, he alternates from wild thrusting to burying his cock deep inside of you and grinding his hips causing his cock head to brush against your g-spot.
Hobi holds your legs open almost bending you in half and giving his cock room to go deeper inside of you, you swear you can feel him in your stomach but your eyes are too heavy to open right now so you take deep breaths and focus on the sensation.
The view you are missing is immaculate.
Hobi’s hips are thrusting deep inside of you and his head is thrown back in pleasure. His hair is sweaty and stuck to his forehead and his lips are sucked into his mouth as he works on bringing you over the edge.
You feel the coil of pleasure start to tighten and you know you are close.
Hobi is so good and once he gets into a rhythm he starts thrusting erratically making you shake on the bed and whine out his name.
Your eyes are screwed shut when you cum. Crying out his name in a broken moan that is ripped from your lungs. You want to cry from the feeling of having another orgasm as euphoria washes over you. It is too much and not enough at the same time and you feel tears slip out of your eyes when he continues to work his cock deep inside of you chasing his high.
“One more baby can you give me one more?” He asks in a desperate tone as his thrusts become erratic and you hold onto his shoulders for dear life as the overstimulation is almost painful.
“Ho-Hobi please please it’s too much… fuck!” You cry when his hand comes down to circle your clit and you feel your walls clamp down on his cock.
“Want you to cum with me can you do that baby. Come on one more on my cock.” He says breathlessly as you quickly reach the edge one more time and you cry out and feel your walls pulse against his cock which twitches and cums deep inside of your pussy.
He has his cock buried all the way in and is panting above you as you both ride out your highs.
When you finally come down the soreness in your body takes over and you slump against the headboard.
He pulls out of you and tosses the condom and leaves you spread eagle on the bed. You don’t mind though you are too worried about trying to force air back into your lungs after that intense orgasm.
Faintly you hear running water and you open your eyes to see Namjoon standing there leaning against the door frame with his hands tucked into his pockets.
He changed out of his clothes into soft green pj pants and a big baggy sweater, the hood was thrown over his messy hair and he stared at you affectionately.
“Come on princess we have to get you cleaned up now.” He says as he enters the room and walks over to Hobi’s window throwing it open to air out the room.
You groan and bury your face in the pillows, the last thing you want to do is stand up right now.
“Come on I got you.” He says softly as he scoops you in his arms like you weigh nothing and you bury your face in his soft sweater as he carries you towards the source of the running water.
The bathroom lights are dimmed and you see Yoongi is already there testing the water with his finger. Namjoon sets you down on shaky legs and you look around at the three men standing in the bathroom, all of them grinning at you.
Namjoon slowly slips the straps of your dress down and he lets it pool at your ankles. You step out of it as Hobi holds you up and helps you into the warm bath.
You sink into the warm water and let out a content sigh as Hobi and Yoongi leave the room, leaving you with Namoon who is still staring at you affectionately.
“Take as long as you need Princess. Towels are over there and there is a change of clothes on the vanity. It’s our stuff so it might not perfectly fit but it will do.” He says with a dimpled smile.
“Yoongi is making some food so take your time we will bring it up to you.” He says softly as he closes the door.
You inhale the lavender scent of the bubble bath and you sigh and sink deeper in the water, hoping it will ease some of the ache in your legs.
You flutter your eyes closed and aren’t sure how long you are laying there when the door cracks open and Yoongi is there with a plate of noodles that smell wonderful.
He places it on a mini folding table and leaves the room again, giving you time to eat in peace.
You spend a total of forty minutes in the bath and as you dry off and throw on the soft sweatpants and sweater someone knocks on the door and you see Namjoon standing there again.
“How do you feel princess?” He asks still leaning against the door frame as you let your hair down and throw the hood of the sweater over your messy hair.
“Relaxed. And so sleepy.” You admit as he comes behind you and hugs you, letting his chin rest on your shoulder.
“You did amazing tonight princess. So good for us. It’s pretty late so if you want to crash here we have a spare room. Or if you're comfortable you can sleep next to one of us. Or if you want to go home you can. Your choice.” He says as he raises his head to stare at both of your reflections in the mirror.
“Wanna sleep next to you Joon? Is that okay?” You say feeling small and safe in his arms.
He shoots you a smile as he takes your hands and leads you to his bedroom. The small bedside lamp is on and you see the duvet already rolled down. He assists you over to the bed as your legs are still shaky and he helps you get under the covers.
He crawls in on the other side and flicks off the lamp casting the room in darkness as he comes behind you to spoon you, his hands holding you flush against him.
“What time is it anyway?” You ask craning your neck to look out his window where you can see a small sliver of the moon illuminated in the sky.
“Almost eleven.” He replies as you gasp.
You didn’t think that much time had passed.
“Time flies when you're being fucked.” He teases as you smack his arm and he laughs, face buried in your neck.
“You should give me bonus marks on the exam for dealing with your terrible jokes.” You grumble as he is still chuckling behind you.
“Maybe I will.” He says as you can hear his voice drop a couple of octaves, he must be as tired as you are.
“Night Mr.Kim.” You tease pushing your butt back so it’s flush against his cock as he groans low in your ear.
“Goodnight Miss Y/N”
#Kim namjoon#Min Yoongi#jung hoseok#namjoon#jhope#bts#bts rapline#namjoon smut#yoongi smut#hobi smut#namjoon/reader smut#yoongi/reader smut#hobi/reader smut#yoongi#bts smut#bts fanfiction
706 notes
·
View notes
Note
saw ur post ab the vees and i wasn't sure if u wanted nsfw rambles or sfw rambles so like... i'll send the sfw rambles in a separate ask 😭
anywaysss im thinking ab putting them all in their place.... maybe they're all arguing over you or being pissy to eachother in general so you punish them all- seperately ofc, u cant have them getting off in eachothers pleasure bc ik damn well they'd be into watching you fuck someone else especially another one of the vees
i am always willing to rant about the vees🙏🙏🙏
summary — The Vees being humbled by the reader in the form of loose, unprofessional headcanons and vague thoughts.
warnings — dom reader, sub… everyone else, very messy, not proofread, read at the risk of incoherence
a/n — I HATE THEM SO MUCH!! THEY’RE THE WORST!! Let’s as a society fuck them to tears.
So, unpopular opinion, I’ve see a few ideas of being the vees collective lay or ‘plaything’ fucktoy, and the idea is so much more fun with a dom reader.
And i’m saying that objectively too, like not just as a dom reader blog. Because these are three people who make up the worst aspects of society, and lowkey are basically just manipulation tactics personified. Propaganda the trio!
Looking at these cocky assholes, who are the embodiment of what is considered terrible people, and who all have unmatched mathematically impossibly high egos, would it just be so fun to fuck the pride out of them?
Especially, for example, let’s say you’re around a lot and you’ve become a trusted person a good fuck for the Vees. They all have terrible attention seeking tendencies, so it would be safe to assume they’d be all over you.
Vox would be trying to talk to you about whatever particular subject he thinks is most interesting (about himself) to capture your attention, while Velvette would be close to you as well, flicking her phone your direction to show you something she finds funny or hot, but mainly as a subtle power-play to get your attention off Vox and onto her.
Valentino would be much less subtle, of course, by nature. He’d be all up around you, touching you, running his hands along your shoulder blades as he walks past, and probably the type to ‘drop something’ and bend over to flash you his fishnets and panties.
Needless to say, they’re all pissing each other off immensely. Obviously, being short tempered people, this leads to an argument because Velvette was ‘talking to you first’ but Vox had ‘actually important things to say’ and according to Valentino ‘the two of you were boring them out of their minds’ and he had to ‘spice your day up.’
Unfortunately for the Vees, you don’t do your one ‘job.’ Your attention isn’t given to any one of them. Yet. You just simply sit on the couch, scrolling through your phone and flicking through channels. Maybe you even actually leave the tower and go eat out or something.
Of course, until later when you pick them off one by one. And no matter who you decide to fuck senseless first, they will be so obviously loud just to be petty because, after all, you did choose them first.
Like they would be being obnoxiously vocal about how ‘full they are’ or how ‘you’re going so fast!’ or some other fake shit like that. It’s honestly a whole show.
Now, I feel like fucking all of them at the same time is kind of inevitable, because they’re all deprived horny freaks on the lowkey. (Except for Val it’s very highkey.)
But I think there would be little mannerisms that appear on one on one sessions that they would NEVER show during a foursome.
For example, Vox’s certain… titles he uses. mommy kink mommy kink mommy kink.
Because he would literally die before calling you mommy or daddy in front of Velvette or Val. It’s okay when it’s just you because it’d be easier to be vulnerable around someone he trusts to set his dominance fully aside for.
And like, yeah, the other Vees know he gets fucked just like the rest of them, but it’s simpler for him to keep his illusion of dominance and respect out side of the bedroom, if the more shamefully submissive aspects of himself stayed hidden.
Also, I think Valentinos would have an easier time actually giving into to subbing during one on one sessions. Like yes, he does sub when it’s with you all the time. That’s the point of the fic.
But he’s less of a power bottom, and his flirtatious, incredibly disgusting remarks subside much faster into whimpers and whining.
Because, although less professional than Vox, he does still have an image. And when it’s just you fucking him, his vile horny comments disappear into whines for your attention in no time. Well actually a lot of time, but the point is that they actually do.
And similar to Valentinos, Velvette’s confidence when bottoming alone with you is increasingly less apparent.
Yea, she’s still bossy and definitely a power bottom, but there’s more of a recognition that she isn’t in charge. Honestly, she’s such a princess I think she’d actually have a very hard time going into subspace, even when alone.
Because degradation just pisses her off. Why aren’t you worshipping her like you should be? But then it’s, what the fuck, why aren’t you worshiping her like you should be??
It makes her brat out even harder, which she does show in front of the other Vees, until she’s actually just needy to be pleased and given pleasure, making her twice as whiny. That aspect she does not show in front of the vees.
But let’s talk about group sex with the Vees. Probably only used as a severe punishment, or a surprisingly giving reward. I have a very particular scene for the severe punishment aspect, however.
So they’ve all been bad, but let’s say, for the sake of specifics to set the scene, Val has been worse. It is still a punishment for Vox and Velvette, but punishing them all to the same extent when Val has misbehaved clearly more would be wrong, would it not?
They’re all greedy, selfish assholes, so you’ve concocted the perfect form of torture for your useless brats; they don’t receive anything until they’re good. Especially Val.
Velvette has a strap on, so she can’t even feel anything but minor friction when you slide your worked open ass onto the plastic dick and open your legs, exposing your empty pussy to none other than Vox.
He eats you out reluctantly, while rutting into the mattress as fast as he could, all while you cockwarm (and sometimes roll your hips to press the strap against her pussy uncomfortably) Velvette.
Oh, and where’s Valentino? Tied up in a chair in front of the bed, getting a perfect shot while being totally naked and hard. You have a gag in his mouth too, because otherwise he’d be complaining the whole time. Because that’s just not fair, is it?
He does this all day for a living. Seriously, he watches people fuck all day. It was his turn to feel something! And you would only have punished him more if he’d done something about this at work today. (Yikes..) I mean, this sounds like complete and utter bullshit. A lose-lose situation!
But, it actually is completely fair. And as you’re receiving all the pleasure, from Velvettes feelingless, fake dick, Vox’s tongue while he humps the bed pathetically, and Val’s whines in complaint, you know the punishment is working.
You’ve bothered them behind belief, you’ve hit a spot you knew would leave a message.
Because none of the attention is on our poor little trio at all. These naturally selfish, greedy people, have to finally give. And god, they’re becoming more desperate for your attention and praise by the second.
a/n — We all know I love sub Vox. But this opened by eyes to how much I love sub Velvette and Valentino. REQUEST THEM ALL MORE.
Also, Rose, I CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON YOU FOR A FIRE ASF PROMPT.
if this flops im throwing myself out of a window btw
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#inbox open#hazbin hotel smut#dom reader#vox x reader#valentino x reader#velvette x reader#vox smut#valentino smut#velvette smut#sub vox#sub velvette#sub valentino#vox x you#velvette x you#valentino x you#the vees x reader
788 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
razorvine
The Gaymer Media Geek
fizzie
computer, engage cunt mode
candycaneloveschicken
Witchy and bitchy
neteyamslovrr
.·:*¨༺kay