#having a good time. high as a private jet - if you will.
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So this sucked. This was pretty miserable, I– having to bang around on this thing for, like, so many takes. And like– Just have hot girls grabbing you. Uh, yeah, well that, yeah...
#i liked it. enjoyed every scene thank you.#fall out boy#patrick stump#my gifs#save rock and roll#the youngblood chronicles#time for another 'zee's been thinking about the youngblood chronicles again' post#watching the beginning of the young volcanoes video (without sound mind you) is so funny. my man is just Vibing.#having a good time. high as a private jet - if you will.#meanwhile his buddies are very much Not Having Fun
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Okay but I need yall to help me figure out the character(s) for the following scenario:
Imagine a romantic yandere falling for reader, and ofc reader isn't in love with yandere for obvious reasons like red flags. Maybe they did try dating, Yandere is a charmer, comes from a rich family, he's smart and hardworking and oh so head over heels in love with you. He's always taking you out on best dates, HAS to get you the largest fucking bouquets (excellent taste in flowers) and buys you expensive but well thought out gifts.
But for whatever reason, things dont work out and you break things off hastily and most likely over the phone before leaving the country. And yandere just- breaksdown. I mean my man does not have a good mental health as is, but you leaving, actually leaving him just breaks him down and he has a full blown panic attack.
I'm talking about yandere falling to his knees, clutching his chest and gasping for air, tears streaming down his face as he screams your name like a mad man. His family, they love him, they adore their son/brother/grandchild sm, it pains them to see him in such a miserable state. Yandere man is so delirious that he has to be sedated, tranquillised by medical professionals because he's just losing his fucking mind, babbling your name over and over again like a mad man. His condition only worsens as time passes, and so his family decides to take drastic measures because they can't see their beloved son/brother/grandkid so fucking dead and depressed and a shell of a once bright man. They love him so much, they only want ti see him happy, so they use their money and influence to track you down and try to convince you to return and take yandere back. When you refuse, they take the high way and force you to come with them, dragging you kicking and screaming to their private jet and fly all the way home, where yandere is.
You're in a dishevelled state, tears running down your cheeks as you struggle to free yourself from their grasps as they take you to yandere. And when yandere sees you... for the first time in months, his family sees the light return in his eyes as the yandere reaches out for you, scared that you're just his mind playing tricks. When he finally touches you, he is immeadiately pulling you into a hug, arms tightening around your body like a gilded cage as he cries into your shoulder and thanks his family for bringing you back. His family only smiles with tears in their eyes as they lock the door behind them when they leave, so that you don't go running away. Meanwhile, yandere has pulled you into his lap and he's looking at you with such sad eyes, staring at each feature of yours over and over again as if to memorise it all again. He can't help the tears that continue to slip out of his eyes, maybe he's crying that you're finally here, or maybe he's crying for all the time that's been lost when you weren't here. You fall asleep soon due to exhaustion, but yandere doesn't sleep a wink that night because he continues to stare at you and play with your hair very gently, finally closing his eyes when morning comes and he wraps his arms around you and traps your legs with his.
By now, you guys realise that the yandere's family is not only yandere for their son/brother/grandson but also for you. They are yandede for you too, but they're not allowing you to leave them or their son or even make him unhappy ever again. Some members are willing to let all you "tantrums" slide, while others are not so kind. BUT one thing is for sure, you're ALWAYS safe with yandere s/o, no matter what.
Now, for the characters I've had in kind for this scenario are:
Halim Mehmet Shah and the Shah Family (my ocs)
Dabi/Shotou and Todoroki clan (I am the OG creator of Yandere Todoroki Clan)
I wanna say Naoya or Toji but the Zenin clan hates them both....
Dick Grayson/Jason Todd and Batfam
What do you guys think?
Mood board for this scenario^^^(I love Pinterest)
#yandere halim shah#yandere#yandere oc#yandere ocs#yandere x reader#yandere x#yandere x you#yandere dabi x reader#yandere dabi#yandere x darling#yandere batfamily#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfam#yandere bnha imagines#yandere bnha x reader#yandere bnha#yandere todoroki clan#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk
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wait for hours
Summary: Bucky and you have a small fight about making him attend a business dinner on your one-year anniversary.
Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x secretary!reader
Warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), org@sm denial/edging, teasing, pet names, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 1.9K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I wrote this blurb based on @marvelouslizzie’s prompt: “You want me to put it in you, don't you?”
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
You know he is mad. You could sense it right away at work and also in the car. But you don’t regret it, it had to be done.
“Why did you even bring me here if you aren’t gonna talk, James?”
Your head is spinning only from the way he’s pacing around.
He puffs. “You wanna talk now?”
“You are such a kid,” you say, sighing.
“I am the kid?”
You’re surprised by how high his tone is.
“Why are you so bothered? I did what I needed to help you.”
“I don’t care! You knew tonight is off limits. It was supposed to be about us!”
You take a deep breath, trying to calm down a little. You don’t want to fight. You never do when you disagree, and this is silly.
“We can do it another time. We both know how important this is, so why are you so mad?”
“Because this is our one-year anniversary and we always…”
You sigh, standing up. “He wouldn’t have waited, and I don’t care if you think: then his loss. This is your company! You need this investment.”
“You made this decision for me!”
“Good,” you snap. “Someone had to, I wasn’t going to let you waste a great opportunity just cause you are not in the mood for another business dinner.”
He steps toward you so fast you don’t even realize for a second. “Yeah, sorry I am not in the mood for a business dinner when I could be buried inside my girlfriend in our private jet as we fly to Europe.”
“Who said I wanted to go in the first place?” You look him in the eye, challenging him to answer you. You’re not gonna let him intimidate you. Not that he wanted that.
“Then I could have made you come on my tongue after dinner right here.”
You roll your eyes. “All you can think about is sex.”
“All I can think about is you, but you decided to-”
“To do the right thing.” You interrupt him immediately. He’s so stubborn sometimes!
Bucky sighs, bringing his hands to your cheeks. “Are you bored with me?”
What. The. Fuck.
“Are you drunk?” You ask despite knowing it’d be impossible. But how can he ask that?
“Are you bored of me, honey? Is this why you keep me a secret?”
“Bucky!”
“I wanted to make it official like what? A thousand times?”
You sigh, bringing your hands on top of his before leaving a kiss on one of his palms.
“I am not bored of you, Jamie. But work is work. He knows-”
“I want everyone to know!”
You understand, but at the same time there are more consequences to consider before making the decision to get public. “Know what? That you’re fucking me?”
Now this is a thing you regret saying. The expression he has on his face breaks your heart.
“That’s all you think this is?”
Oh, you fucked up! This is not what it is, and you know it. You both had been trying to fight it off, to ignore the tension for over a year. Until you just couldn’t anymore and gave in.
It was clearly more than sex from the start. He didn’t even try to seduce you, and you were only going out on dates for weeks. And if he wanted sex, why he’d make such an effort when you’re sure he can get a girlfriend or a one-night stand or even escort services. He didn’t try to buy you. But would the office understand?
“No, James.” You kiss his other palm, trying to show him how you actually feel. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“When would it be, then? Or would it ever be a good idea?”
He’s more than upset now, his chin is trembling and the way he keeps staring at you makes you want to cry.
Such a horrible situation…
“When I’ll change my job,” you murmur, stroking his cheeks. “This way, they wouldn’t call either of us names and your reputation would-”
“I don’t care about it, okay? About what they’d say about me, and I certainly wouldn’t let them talk shit about you. What you did for the company is amazing.”
You let out a humorless laugh. “I am your secretary, Bucky. My job is to please you and do the best to assure the company’s success.”
“Fucking bullshit!”
“Hey, it’s true. You know very well how people would talk about both of us, and rumors would spread, and sure, men would pat you on the back at first, but some might hate the scandal. And I would be treated like a...” You don’t want to finish your sentence; well aware he knows what you mean. “You cannot protect me from this no matter what you do. And you cannot ruin your company! Do you want to do this just for public claim?”
“I want to hold your hand so badly everywhere...” He sighs, moving his hands from your face to his own hair, pulling it a bit too harshly. “I want to be able to leave with you home and not make Sam wait for you on the parallel street.”
You know and you feel the same way. Sometimes you find yourself imagining how things would be if you gave in and just not care about it, but there’s about so much more than you. You know how important his partnerships are, how hard he actually worked. He might not be a billionaire, but he is very rich and affords many things. He pays everyone well, including you, as wrong as it might sound.
“I’m gonna think about it, okay? I love you so much!” You take a step closer, getting on your tiptoes so you can kiss him a little. “I am sorry for making you feel like this, you’re not my dirty secret. But I don’t regret saying yes to this meeting. You weren’t going to agree, and we both know this is really important. We can celebrate later or tomorrow night. We can go anywhere you want. Just know I love you.”
Bucky says nothing for a while, his face emotionless as he thinks about what you said.
“I love you, too. Now I want you to get your clothes off and get on the bed.”
You raise your eyebrows at the change in his attitude. What the fuck!
“What?”
“Don’t act as if you don’t want it. You were teasing me all morning. And during the breaks!”
You cannot even deny it because it’s true. Yesterday you were both too tired to even eat when you got home, let alone have sex, and you woke up really horny.
“Don’t you need to get ready?”
He smirks in that way that you hate so much, and you sigh.
“You got one minute, baby.”
You quickly take off your shirt and pants before unclasping the bra and placing it on the nearest bedside table. You let on your panties, eager to see him tear them off as you sit on the edge of the bed.
But he, surprisingly, doesn’t do that after he drops on his knees in front of you and spreading your legs.
You get on your elbows just to watch him. He smiles cheekily, happy with the extra attention you give him, as he hooks his finger around your underwear and moves it to the side, holding it there as he starts to lick your slit.
“Yesss!” You throw your head back, knowing how much you’re going to enjoy this.
He’s a little too slow compared to the usual, but it still feels good, especially when he brings his tongue to your entrance.
You manage to hold back for a while, not letting your hips move until you realize he doesn’t intend to change the pace. With your fingers through his hair and another hand grabbing the sheets, you try to get his tongue inside you faster. But he doesn’t want that either, so you pull his hair a bit harder out of frustration.
“If you want it slow, at least use that tongue on my clit.”
He snorts, amused and does what you told him without protesting. But instead of feeling better because he’s licking your clit, it’s even worse.
You both know that you hate when he’s doing it slowly, so that’s annoying you even more. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose.
You try to tilt your hips more, showing him he needs to hurry up, but he places his right hand on your tummy and pushes your back to the bed again.
“Come on, Bucky! What is this?”
He smiles against your clit and suddenly starts to lick faster. And faster. And faster.
“Yess, yess.”
You pictured him like this before you got together. You imagined countless of scenarios with him eating you out on his desk or on the couch in his office, in the car or in the meeting room. You did that so often it became a habit, but you didn’t expect it to be that good. And he’s somehow getting better every time. Even when he’s torturing you.
When he starts sucking on your clit, though? You feel on fire. You let out the loudest moan before grabbing his hair.
“Yes, sooo c-close. Gimmie a finger, Jamie.” His eyes are on you as you speak. “Please!”
He stops sucking just to breathe on your clit, making you shiver. “Now why would I do that?”
You open your eyes confused.
Does he mean he wants to fuck you?
You’d love that, truth be told, so you push him away a little and get on your ass on the bed. You immediately move your hands down, trying to find his bulge over his pants.
Yeah, you totally missed that.
“I guess foreplay is done. You can fuck me now.”
Bucky laughs. He laughs! Then he brings his hand to cover yours and helps you get a better feel of his cock. Fuck, he’s so hard!
“You want me to put it in you, don’t you?”
“I’m still close.” You whine, surprised by your own body reaction. “Just get inside me, okay?”
“Why would I do that, honey?”
You give him the most confused look ever. “W-what?”
“You’re not gonna come tonight. Or well, until I get back from my meeting. Not on my fingers, not on my mouth, and definitely not on my cock. “
The world is spinning around you. He’s not serious is he.
“Aww, what’s wrong? Who’s the one thinking only about sex now?”
“You’re joking, right?”
He cannot do this. He can’t...
“I should get ready for the meeting.” He tries to get up, but you grab his hand.
“Are you punishing me for doing the right thing for the company?”
He senses you are close to tears so he leans in to kiss your forehead. “No, baby, why would I punish you for that?”
“I don’t know...”
“Maybe this is for thinking our anniversary is not important for me” He cups your face. “But I promise tonight will be great.”
You can’t even say anything, squeezing your legs together, still turned on.
“No touching either. You don’t get to come until I come back, okay?”
You sigh, pouting. “I’ll try, daddy.”
Bucky bites his lip before he kisses you properly. “You won’t try, you will do it for daddy, okay?”
You nod, staring at his chest. “Can I help you clean?”
“As much as I’d love that, if we go in the shower together, I don’t think I’ll leave.”
Damn it... now you have to wait for hours.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#ceo!bucky barnes#ceo!bucky#rich!bucky barnes#rich!bucky#millionaire!bucky barnes#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x reader#my stories#my fanfics#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes x you#sebastian stan#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n
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Hi! I absolutely adore your writing! And I'm sure your smut writing will be amazing too 😘 Those new Lando.jpg photos on the plane got me even more hot for Lando than I already am, so could I request for him based on those? I'm thinking reader is Lando's girlfriend, he takes her with him to Singapore, but he looks so hot throughout the flight they end up joining the Mile High Club 🤭 Please and thank you! Take care ❤️❤️
ITS THE WAY I HAD THE SAME THOUGHT WHEN I SAW THE PICS 💀
It’s the High Altitude. (LN4)
Summary: They’ve missed each other. What can they say?
Warnings: this one’s definitely dirty 😀, smut, language, lando goes raw for the first time!
Note: LANDO.JPG IS BACK BABY 😫😫
Y/n’s head rested gently against Lando’s shoulder as the two waited for the long flight to end. It had been a long, strenuous past few days for the boy, but the moment he had seen Y/n’s face at the airport as she met him to get on his private jet he had been feeling the most at ease. That’s what she did to him, he thought.
Provide a sense of safety and comfort.
Nevertheless, his chaotic hormones kicked in as well the moment he saw her. With her tight leggings and his sweatshirt draped over her frame, he felt starved. Starved of her touch; starved of her love; and starved of her body. The thick blanket he had laid strategically over his lap when she had cuddled up to him proved that.
To be honest, he didn’t want to bring it up to her, his problem, but he knew he would have to when her hand brushed against the area that needed her attention the most and he almost groaned outwardly.
The last straw, however, was when she had stared up at him with her big, sleepy y/e/c eyes and asked him, “How’s your stress, baby? Is there anything I can do to help?”
Yeah, there was definitely a way she could help.
She must’ve noticed the suggestive glint in his eye because hers were widening and darting around suspiciously.
“Lando, we can’t do that here.” She whispered, trying to convince herself as she took in his all black ensemble, a tight shirt that hugged his biceps perfectly and form-fitting pants that allowed her to outline him.
Smiling knowingly at her, Lando grabbed her hand, “Yeah?”
His deep throaty voice and rough tone had her practically fighting demons in her head as she willed herself not to go through with this. So many consequences if they got caught as well as all the risks they were taking to go about what they wanted to.
But.
He looked so good and it had been so long since they last saw each other, were with each other. Sure, they would have many other chances over the next month she was with him to have sex, but they both clearly wanted it, needed it, so badly right now that she figured it couldn’t hurt. Right?
—
Backing her against the wall, Lando’s hand ran all over her. Lifting up her shirt and feeling the hot, soft skin of her stomach, he, ironically, became hungrier for her.
“Take it off.” He demanded, backing up in order to watch as she peeled the fabric off her body and revealed some of what he had missed.
The other parts would be revealed to him in just a few moments.
Going back in, his lips on hers as he took what he wanted, his hands fondled her boobs that rest under her bra. He loved the see-through number she had decided to wear, but, at that moment, there was nothing else he wanted to see more than her completely bare before him. While half his brain understood they were on an airplane and having her get completely undressed wasn’t practical, the other side said he was a driver, so what could they really do to him?
Although, as he tried to unclip the garment, she stopped him, “Lan, no. There’s no time for that.”
He pulled back, flashing her the most confused and disturbed face, “There’s always time for your boobs.”
The fact that he actually stood by his statement had Y/n giggling, something Lando didn’t like.
Grabbing her by the jaw and pulling her face back to meet his eyes, he whispered gruffly, “That wasn’t a joke.”
As if to thoroughly get his point across, he snapped her bra open immediately after. Subconsciously, as his eyes ogled the body parts, he bit his lip. That sent Y/n over the edge completely, throwing caution to the wind as she pulled him back, kissing him with everything she had.
The continued make out, inevitably, turned into more when his fingers slipped beneath the waist band of her pants and found her panties. Her mouth fell open when the digits found her clit, rubbing teasing circles on it as he stared at her blissful face in triumph.
“You like that?” He whispered against her ear before nipping at her neck. All she did was moan quietly in response, Lando taking that as a challenge as he slid his finger further down and slipped it into her. The sensation brought his girlfriend to rest her head against his shoulder, trying so hard to keep her sounds in.
He added another finger to taunt her before she let out a breathy moan, gripping his arm out of pleasure. His rhythm and pace quickened as she continued to release small groans for only him to hear.
“Lan, yes.” She said softly with her eyes closed as he reached deeper in her.
He smiled down at her, loving and domestic, completely contradicting the sinful acts he was engaging in below the belt. Wherever they were, he was always happy and proud to make her feel as good as she did when he’s handling her.
When her nails dug into his muscles and her hips began to grind against his fingers, Lando knew she was about to finish.
Pulling his fingers out when she was just about to teeter off the edge, her eyes flew open and she smacked him against his chest.
“Ow!” He exclaimed, regretting how loud he had gotten before turning back to her and saying, “That’s no way to treat the guy that’s trying to make you cum.”
She rolled her eyes, “I was just about to!” She whisper yelled, “But, you stopped! What the hell?”
His chuckling made her sexually frustrated brain even angrier, but then he said, “I would’ve loved to have you cum on my fingers, but, and I’m not sure if my fingering you caused your mind to forget, we are on an airplane and I was trying not to cause too much of a mess.”
She tried to come up with a counter, but the sound of his belt unbuckling and the feeling of his hips bucking against hers over their clothes caused her to draw blank.
He groaned softly when his dick rubbed right up against her, making him so determined to get inside her that he almost ripped off her pants when he took them off.
Lifting her up onto the small counter, he pulled himself out and reached for his wallet, searching for a condom. When he came up empty, he turned back to her with his mouth agape, “I didn’t bring anything with me?”
She stared at him blankly, “You don’t have a condom?”
He gulped, “No.”
There was a small silence that fell upon them before she was sighing and saying, “It’s okay just go without it.”
The world seemed to go dark as Lando processed what she had just granted him, “What?”
She nodded, “Go in without the condom.”
His face broke out into a grin, “Really?”
She laughed, “Yeah, Lan. I didn’t know that was that big of a deal.”
Getting closer to her and lining himself up with her, Lando showed her his signature grin, “Yeah, it fucking is.”
At that, he pushed into her, both of them moaning lowly at the feeling. He holds her waist with one hand, guiding it to meet his thrusts, as his other rests on the mirror right behind her. The slow, but building, snap of his hips had Y/n whining, music to Lando’s ears.
“I’ve missed you so much, baby.” He moaned quietly when her hand grabbed his torso and urged him forward harder. He took the hint, speeding up so quickly that her body was smacked against the cool reflective panel every time he pushed back in.
“Lan,” She moaned against his skin when he continued to speed up.
His sweaty forehead met hers as they quietly moaned together, “Y/n, you feel so good. So tight, so perfect. You’re perfect for me, pretty girl.”
As she moaned, taking all of him, he took his hand off the mirror to grip both of her hips. Harshly forcing her to sink onto him as he continued to thrust, he reached so far deep into her, the two could see his dick bobbing beneath her stomach.
At the sight, Lando groaned loudly, not caring or even realizing who could hear, “Y/n, yes. Yes, baby, yes. You take me so well. Dick’s so deep in you, you can see it rearranging everything.”
“Lando,” She moaned at his words, the name being the only thing she could remember.
His hips reached a faster speed, surprisingly, when she squeezed around him and he got to feel it without the barrier of latex.
Through gritted teeth, he groaned, “Y/n, I’ll never go back. You feel to good not to go raw.”
“Never, Lan. Too good.” She choked as her hands gripped his hair.
Chaotic and unruly, Lando’s rhythm was lost as he chased both their highs without a care in the world.
Hard and fast, Lando’s thrusts brought Y/n to her end with a loud moan before he was holding her hips against his and coming into her so deeply, she almost came again.
They panted forcefully as they tried to catch their breaths. When they did, Lando kissed her sweetly and whispered how good she had been for him. At that, the two dressed back into their clothes, only after Lando helped Y/n clean the juices slipping out of her.
The two knew they had been heard, so fixing their hair and making sure they didn’t look as though they had just entered into the Mile High Club was out the window.
When they stepped out of the bathroom, they came to see the snickering faces of Oscar and their team of engineers.
“Oh, shut the fuck up.” Lando groaned as he ushered Y/n back to their seats, trying desperately to dodge the group of men sat about the plane laughing at them.
Oscar laughed loudly, wheezing almost, as he said, “You didn’t, so why should I?”
As they plopped down, Y/n sunk into her seat, embarrassed, while Lando turned fully around to look Oscar in the eyes, “It’s the high altitude.”
#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#mclaren#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagines#lando norris x you#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris edit#oscar piastri imagines#oscar piastri fanfiction#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri imagine#f1 smut
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Ma'am II
Aitana Bonmatí x Royal!Reader
Summary: The plane ride
You sipped your champagne as you relaxed back in your seat.
Your bodyguard sat at the very front of the plane, nearest the cockpit to give some semblance of privacy. Of course, the idea of true privacy on a plane was laughable but it was as close as you could get and you were thankful for that.
"Are you still looking at the shower?" You called out, your head angling towards the back of the plane," It's just a shower."
"On a plane!" Aitana said as she peaks out of the back compartment," An ensuite bathroom on a plane! You've got a bed!"
"Where else are we supposed to sleep?"
"It's only a few hours," Aitana said as she took her seat next to you," Why would we need to sleep?"
"A nap never hurt anyone," You replied," Besides, we still need to request permission to land and such. Some airports don't like when we give them too short a notice."
"You're royalty," Aitana insisted," They're probably jumping over themselves to get you to land with them. They're probably thinking you're going to tip."
She laughed but it petered off when she realised you weren't laughing with her.
"No, seriously? You tip just to land?"
You shrugged. "Tipping never hurt anyone." You stood and stretched. "Greece still sound good to you?"
"We've been in the air for nearly half an hour! What do you mean does 'Greece still sound good'?! What have we been doing?"
"Flying aimlessly," You said," This is kind of like an expensive joyride."
Aitana's mouth hung open. "You're so out of my league."
You grinned, all suave with years of charming foreign dignitaries. "Pretty sure you're the one who's out of my league." You leaned towards her, lips skimming the shell of her ear. "You know, the bed is pretty big. The cabin's almost soundproof." You wiggled your brows. "Feel like joining the mile-high club?"
"You want me to agree to join the mile high club? In the private jet of the English royal family?"
"What? Not fancy enough for you?"
"You might want to make our excuses. I'd hate for your bodyguard to think I'm rude."
Your bodyguard, in the end, didn't think Aitana to be rude at all. Even though the two of you disappeared into the bedroom for the remaining time of the flight.
"What time do we land?" She asked.
You hooked your shoulder over your chin, throwing your bare leg over her hip. She was lying on her side facing away from you but that didn't stop you from being as close as humanly possible to her.
"Hmm," You hummed," An hour? Hour and a half? Depends on if they've already found an airport to land at."
"Is this your world?" She asked with a little giggle," Taking your fancy jet to places without even a plan?"
"Well," Your voice dropped low as you kissed her naked shoulder," I do have a plan. It's fifty percent complete now."
"Oh, yeah? What was the plan?"
"Well..." You trailed kisses down her skin. "The first part was getting you to agree to get on the plane with me. The second part was having my wicked, wicked way with you in said plane. The rest of it? Wait and see, princess."
"Princess? I think you'll find that you're the only princess here."
"Not if I marry you. Then there'll be two princesses on the plane."
You felt Aitana tense under your touches. She went rigid like every muscle had been locked into place.
She rolled onto her back, steering up at you with wide and unblinking eyes.
"You want to marry me?"
You frowned, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "I don't do this," You said," I don't date for fun. I've never dated for fun. I date to marry someone. I'm dating you so I can marry you. I want to see you walk down the aisle at Westminster Abbey. I want cameras to pick up me saying 'holy shit' because you're so pretty. Yes, Aitana, I want to marry you."
She kept staring at you and frankly, it put you on edge.
"Don't you want that too?"
She surged forward, tugging you into a heated kiss.
You tried to kiss back as best you could but she had really caught you off guard with the urgency of it. You didn't know when you ended up on your back but you did.
Aitana sat above you, legs straddling your hips like she was sat on a throne.
"God," She said," Of course I want to marry you."
You grinned. "I'm sure my father has property in Spain, in Barcelona even. I could move."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that. You won't have to retire from football yet. I can be signed off on some long-term international duty. Building ties with Spain and what-not."
"A house near the stadium," Aitana continued," With a garden, big enough for a pet."
"A trellis with ivy growing on it," You said," Small enough that no paps will bother us but big enough to have my brothers and their kids visit."
"Big enough for kids of our own."
"Little princes and princesses who grow up to play football for their country, whichever of ours they choose."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"But how? You're royalty. Your father is king."
"And I'm his third child," You say," He's got his heir. He has his spare. What am I? The spare's spare? Aitana, I love you. I'd leave the family if it meant I got to marry you."
"Really?"
"Really."
Aitana grinned at you, leaning down. "Yes, I will marry you."
You grinned back at her. "Once we land, I'll get you a ring. We can start the honeymoon early."
"I like that plan."
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mile high
sex on fire chapter three
we're going overseas baby! (this is gonna be a three-parter cause i hyperfixated and couldn't stop myself so BUCKLE UP)
author's note: i absolutely do NOT condone the use of private jets. they are GROSS and terrible for the environment and just fucking fly commerical ok? but in this ceo!joel ficland, private jets are fuelled by delusion and emit only clean, pure oxygen. thank you for reading. now, with that in mind, please enjoy reader being railed in a plane cabin. i love u all to paris n back 🤍🥐
pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader
summary: you accompany joel on a work trip to paris, to eat good food, drink expensive wine, and…get to know each other a little better
warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) environmental crime, plane sex, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv sex, daddy kink, joel being a fucking exhibitionist menace, creampie, more gf representation, showering together, softdom!joel, sugardaddy!joel, heavy on the flirting, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, very ridiculous spending on very ridiculous things, workplace relationship and therefore odd power dynamic yadda yadda yadda
word count: 6.3k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
Joel’s fingers squeeze your hips, his pace quickens even more. “Louder.”
“They’re gonna – ah – they’re gonna hear.”
“Who?” Joel asks.
He knows damn well who. You’re only separated by a thin paneled wall. You’d be fucking surprised if the flight attendants haven’t been hearing you for the last twenty minutes.
“Baby,” Joel’s voice coos as he bends forward, sweaty chest flat against your back. His lips line with your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “They get paid not to hear.”
You’ve never been on a work trip with Joel. Usually, he likes to take them alone. Martha told you once about a time a couple years before you started when Joel took an intern to a conference in Canada, and the kid spent the entire first night in the hotel bar, missed the conference the next day, and only just made the flight home, scruff of his neck between Joel’s knuckles.
He racked up a bill of nearly a thousand dollars just on liqueur and finger food. Joel had sworn he’d never take anybody anywhere with him again.
But there’s this client over in Europe he’s due to meet – an annual thing where they sit on the terrace of some luxurious hotel, drink expensive wine that tastes like piss, according to Joel, and have a cock-off over their money and status.
Sounds like fun, right?
You’ve a pretty good idea why he asked you. And he made a pretty convincing pitch: he’d promised you a relaxing weekend. You didn’t have to sit in on any meetings, he’d let you amble around the city by day, take you for a fancy dinner or two at night. All expenses paid. You barely had to lift a finger.
As per the deal, Martha organized the travel documents. Printed them, collated them, handed them to you in a neat little folder with a paperclip on top and a Post-It note with Have fun! written in red ink. You’d slipped it into your bag and followed Joel to his car, nodding to Rand as you ducked under the starlit ceiling.
Joel’s left hand sits around your thigh – because where else would it be? – his right clutching his phone, thumb scrolling as he absentmindedly reads some document. You’re watching the city soar by from behind tinted glass. Before long, it’s the dark green of trees flickering by, and then, canvased by the clear blue sky, an air traffic control tower in the distance.
The Rolls saunters past the main entrance to the airport. You watch it roll by, leaning forward in your seat.
“Wait, what…?”
“What, baby?” Joel asks, looking up from his phone.
You usually knew every fine detail of the plan by heart. It was your job to. But with Martha being in charge of arranging your flight, you’d missed one crucial speck of information this time. And that is –
You’re travelling by private fucking jet.
The car drives across smooth tarmac toward a pointed white plane, bold against the brilliant blue sky behind it. There are four people standing at the bottom of the steps leading into it; what you assume are the two pilots, and two smartly dressed flight attendants.
“How did I never know you had a…?”
Joel smirks. “Never showed you it. C’mon.”
He gets out, strolls around to your door and opens it for you. You’re still gawking at the jet.
“Jeez…” you whisper, hopping out of the car.
“What is it?” he says through a chuckle, leading you across the tarmac.
“I feel so…Everyone looks so…I’m in my fucking sweatpants, Joel.”
He looks at you under low brows, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Like he doesn’t want to hear one more word of it. He holds an arm out; his pinkie bumps into your tummy.
“I think you look beautiful, darlin’.”
It might’ve stopped you in your tracks. Might’ve crumbled the entire airport to dust. Might’ve made the sun drop out of the sky. You’re not sure. You wouldn’t notice if you dropped dead right now.
His words, his soft voice when he says them, send a pang of white noise through your ears, echoing around and bouncing off the walls of your head.
You swallow. Digest what he just said. And do your best to forget all about it.
Joel takes your hand and leads you to the plane steps, helping you up. He follows at your heels. “Thanks, Jerry, Lisa,” he says. You give both pilots a nervous smile as you pass.
The airconditioned cabin chills your arms when you reach the top, twisting around to look back to Joel.
“Go on.” Joel nods, palm ushering you inside.
You step forward and turn right, standing in the doorway to a pristine, white-walled, wooden interior cabin, leather seats dotted against the walls, dark brown glassy tables between them, soft gray carpet at your feet, vacuum cleaner lines still visible. There’s a long plush couch on the left wall, today’s newspaper on the side table next to it.
You feel Joel’s body shell around yours, his chin dips against your ear.
“Like it?”
“Not really. Feelin’ pretty guilty about all the air pollution.”
“How many trees you want me to plant to make up for it?”
You tut. “What are you doin’ in business? You’re so funny.”
You wander off without looking back, heading for one of the window seats.
“Uh,” Joel clears his throat, “there’s a separate cabin up back, too, if you want it.”
“Separate cabin?”
He nods. “’s got a bed. It’s cozy.”
A bed. Of course this asshole has a fucking bed in his private jet.
The pilots file in behind him, dipping into the cockpit. The flight attendants follow, and begin preparing for takeoff. Joel strolls over to the seat opposite yours, giving your legs a nudge under the varnished table when he sits down.
You both click your seatbelts into place, relax, and look out the window as the jet rolls by the airport, heading for the runway. The engine fires up properly, a deep hum you feel rattling up your spine, and then you’re pulled forward, body pushing heavily into the soft leather of your seat.
The plane races down the runway, the grass and trees blurring into a mix of dark and light green, before you’re lifting off the tarmac and into the air, your tummy flipping a little from excitement and maybe some nerves, and…Joel’s gaze on you.
When your eyes meet his, he scans down. Your little black t-shirt, skin tight. The way your breasts rise and fall with your breathing. Down to the waist of your sweatpants, then further down your legs. You know exactly what’s going through his mind.
And, honestly…being on a private jet on your way to a free weekend in Paris, accompanied by the best sex you’ve ever had…? Goes against a couple of your core beliefs about the world, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t on your mind, too.
The flight attendants let you guys know you can unbuckle your belts now, and, like a hive mind, you both unclip them and stand.
“Was gonna go check out that, uh–”
“I’ll show you to it,” Joel cuts in, taking your bag and leading you down the aircraft. He dips his head as he walks, the cabin too small for him to stand straight. You follow like a fucking dog, trying to hide the spring in your step.
Through a door concealed to look like part of the wall is a small room with a double bed, soft white sheets untouched. There’s a little TV on the wall opposite, a small table with another comfy chair by one of the windows, and a rail for hanging up clothes. The shades over the windows are pulled almost all the way down, sunlight splintering through and lining the soft carpet.
Joel wasn’t wrong. It is cozy.
He sets your bag down on the floor and closes the door behind you. You notice he locks it.
The corners of your lips tug, your eyebrows raise. “Might be classier than my bedroom.”
He scoffs, and you turn, falling back onto the bed and kicking your shoes off.
“Alright,” you announce, flat-out on the sheets, “I’m gonna get some shut-eye.”
Joel looks surprised. Almost – offended. “Sh…You’re gonna sleep?”
“’s why you got a bed, ain’t it?”
He narrows his eyes, runs his tongue along the bottom of his teeth. Steps forward. Sticks a knee between yours. “Not exactly.”
You smile up at him. He’s pulling the jacket from his shoulders, plain white tee underneath. He looks so fucking good. The man always looks so fucking good. He tosses the jacket to the floor and bends down over you. Hands pressing deep into the bed either side of your head, torso hovering over yours. Hips just too far away for you to lift yours up to meet them.
You take hold of his wrists. “Then…show me what it’s for.”
Joel looks from your lips to your chest, then back up to your eyes, grinning like a devil. He lifts one hand and his fingers come down to play with the drawstring of your sweatpants, tugging painfully slow on them. You want to whine, but that’d be letting him win too easily.
He loosens the waist and his fingers find the hem of your tee tucked beneath.
“You gonna show me those pretty tits, baby?”
You nod, biting your lip as he peels your top from your body, your back arching, arms splaying out on the bed. Joel uncovers your chest and slips the top over your head, discarding it to the side and leaning back to take the view in.
You didn’t wear a bra today. Wanted to travel in as much comfort as possible.
One of your wiser choices.
“Fuck, darlin’…” he breathes, eyes set on your perky tits, your round, hardened nipples. His reaction sends a fleet of electricity down to your core.
“C’mere,” you whisper, taking his shirt in your fists and dragging him down against your naked torso. And then his hips are there, right against yours, and you grind up into him, feeling his bulging crotch between your legs.
Your fingers dance along the hem of his shirt and he lifts off of you, letting you tug it over his head before his chest is pressed back against yours. You part your lips and he fills your mouth with his tongue, hands in your hair, body grinding against your own. He’s pushing you further up the mattress until you’re both in the center, disturbing the sheets and shifting the cushions decorating the bed.
Joel’s hand trails down your naked stomach and under your pants, cutting past the lace of your underwear to cup your mound, middle finger daring ever lower. You moan and drag your hips forward to edge his fingers further, until they’re dipping between your folds and your body’s rolling with pleasure.
“Yeah,” Joel murmurs, “that’s it, huh? That’s what you want?”
“Uhuh,” you nod, bottom lip between your teeth, eyelashes batting in a plea for him to keep going. Keep fucking going.
His mouth dips between your jaw and your shoulder, teeth picking up your hot skin to suck a bruise while two fingers push inside of you, lifting your back from the mattress and into Joel’s rock-solid body. Some noise escapes his lips, something caught between a laugh and a groan.
“So tight, baby,” he murmurs, drawing a smile across your face.
And then your hands are messing around at his waistband, fingers fumbling with the button. Wanting him in your hands as much as he has you around his own. Needing to feel what you’re doing to him, since he’s well aware of what he’s done to you.
Joel’s hand slips gently out from under your pants and his weight lifts off of you. In the slivers of light streaming through the cabin windows, his silhouette steps back off the bed and shoves the denim down his thighs. His jeans hit the floor and as quick as he left you, he’s back pressing into you again, hard outline of his length nudging against the top of your thigh.
You slip a hand under the elastic of his underwear and take hold of his cock, while he picks up where he left off between your legs. Your lips connect, breathing laughs and pants and desperate moans into each other, hands working to push each other closer and closer…
Joel’s fingers pump in and out, curling just enough to hit your G-spot every time. His thumb’s bumping at your clit, pushing waves of pleasure with each circle. He adds a third finger when you start to gasp, the movement of your fist around his shaft becoming messy and staggered. You’re trying to focus on him, trying to get him there as fast as he’s getting you, but he’s so fucking good at it, and you’re starting to fade out of the cabin.
Your eyes roll shut; head falls back against the bed. You’re still trying to fucking jack him off, as if he’d even let himself cum in your hands before he’s been inside you. But you’re desperately trying not to give him the satisfaction of having you unfold on his hand less than ten minutes into this. Desperately trying not to give in to him and his stupid private jet.
“It’s okay, baby,” Joel whispers in your ear, pressing a delicate kiss to your hair, “you can cum. Do it for me.”
“F-uck you,” you whisper, and you cave.
Let’s put it down to the air pressure when you’re this high up. In fact, let’s just say: you’re on a plane, and you’ve never had anything remotely close to sex on a plane before, and that’s why, when your orgasm bursts through, you cum harder than you think you’ve ever done before. It’s because of how fucking insane this is.
Let’s just say.
You come to with your face buried in the crook of Joel’s neck. His chest is vibrating, Adam’s apple bobbing. You pull back and notice the dimples in his swollen cheeks, the crow’s feet by his eyes, and then…the wide smile spread across his lips.
“That feel good, darlin’?” he asks through a laugh.
You curse at him again, eyes screwing shut. His hand’s still between your legs, slowly moving in and out, lulling you through the tail end of your orgasm. Your hands have deserted their original job; they’re clutching Joel’s shoulders. You don’t even remember grabbing onto him.
“Got somethin’ that’ll make you feel even better,” he breathes, and before you’re fully awake, his hands are on your hips, flipping you over. He drags your pants down your legs, discarding them to the floor beside his.
You sigh when he pulls your ass up into the air, resting your ear on your folded arms. Accepting defeat, or maybe just…letting him do what he does best.
Joel slips your panties to the side and runs his cock up and down your dripping cunt. You flinch, still sensitive, and feel him slow down.
“Gonna make you feel real good, alright?”
“Mhm,” you reply, eyes closing again as he lines up.
It sounds like a bit of a dumb thing to say. Joel makes you feel good every time his hands are on you, without question. Even that first night, in that dive bar, before he’d ever really done anything. His hands sent electricity through your body that you failed all weekend to rid yourself of. But you hear what he’s really saying.
You haven’t had each other yet without someone on the other side of the wall, waiting for one of you. It’s always been a rush, always been about that race to the finish line just to satisfy your needs, and then return to Earth as soon as you’re done.
There’s no need to rush to that finish line this time around. Nobody’s waiting. Joel can do whatever he wants, can fuck you however he likes, and have you under his hand for as long as he wants. As long as you both last.
The bed makes sense now, doesn’t it?
He pushes inside you, thick, hard, full. You gasp, face burying into the comforter, legs spreading to accommodate his size. Your fingers grasp onto the sheets, nails digging into the soft fabric as he fills you up, pulls halfway out, and rocks back in.
“Fuck, Joel,” you cry, and his hips slam into yours.
“Huh?” he asks.
“Daddy,” you correct yourself, still gasping.
“Better.”
Joel pounds into you, strong grip on your waist, pulling you up and down his cock at a punishing pace. His grunts match your whines. Your hand stretches out to grab something – anything – to hold onto, to steady yourself as your body begins to collapse.
“Daddy,” you mewl again, muffled by the cotton of the sheets, like it’s the only word coming to mind. “So – fuckin’ – good.”
“Louder, baby,” he replies, groaning when you tighten around him.
You whimper. “F-fuck, daddy.”
Joel’s fingers squeeze your hips, his pace quickens even more. “Louder.”
“They’re gonna – ah – they’re gonna hear.”
“Who?” Joel asks.
He knows damn well who. You’re only separated by a thin paneled wall. You’d be fucking surprised if the flight attendants haven’t been hearing you for the last twenty minutes.
“Baby,” Joel’s voice coos as he bends forward, sweaty chest flat against your back. His lips line with your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “They get paid not to hear.”
His hips crack into yours again once, and then halt. You cry out, the sudden feeling of him in his entirety, filling you up, pushing right up against your cervix, too much to bear. Too much to be muffled by the mattress beneath you.
“Let – them,” Joel’s hips drag back, slow, leaving you empty, “hear – you.”
He thrusts forward again, painfully, and you moan. Loud. “Ah, daddy,” you cry out again, and you swear Joel’s chest rumbles behind you with a laugh.
“That’s it, good girl. Tell ‘em how good it feels.”
You feel your mind start to slip, the cabin going with it. Your eyes roll closed, your mouth falls open. The only sound escaping your lips a whine, over and over, shaped just like the word daddy, daddy, daddy.
Joel’s forehead rests on the crown of yours, his voice a soft hum at the nape of your neck.
“See? Sound way too pretty to keep quiet, darlin’.”
He’s panting, words spilling out of his mouth between gasps and grunts. Hips are snapping at a grueling pace. You reach for his wrists again, planted in the bed either side of your head, and squeeze as if it might relieve the building tension in the pit of your stomach.
But he’s going so fast, so hard, fucking you dumb. And you can feel him start to falter, when your walls hold him snug, tightening around him as you reach your high.
He cums when you do. You feel him empty inside you as you hurtle through your own orgasm, rippling bliss all around your body. You both cry out, filling the tiny room with groans of pleasure and release together.
Your hips give, fall flat to the mattress, Joel still inside, slowly rocking back and forth, pushing his cum deeper and deeper inside you.
His elbows sink into the bed at your shoulders, caging you under his body as the remnants of your highs wash away. He’s running soft, wet kisses from your neck down the top of your spine. When your body stills, the pulsing of your cunt a mere flutter, he slips out from between your legs and pushes up off of your body.
Joel collapses alongside you atop the tangle of sheets and pillows, skin sticking, bodies thrumming with energy. You roll over to lie next to him. Chests rising and falling in unison, fingers intertwining at your sides. You’re staring at the ceiling, head tilting to rest on Joel’s shoulder, and he places a soft kiss to your hair.
You glance up to look into his brown eyes, lit by the thin rays of bursting sunlight seeping through the windows. The way the light moves across him as the plane turns, brilliant rays sweeping over the horizon and reflecting every angle of his face.
When he notices you, he dips his chin, and you prop yourself up, pressing your lips to his. Joel holds your jaw softly, thumb grazing over your cheekbone. His other hand scoops around your back, holding your body close to his.
“Sleepy,” you mutter, and he nods.
“Get some rest,” he tells you, but you’re already laying your head down on his chest.
Your heavy eyes blink the jet out of view; Joel’s hand stroking your hair sends you off to sleep.
----------
You wake under the white sheets, still wrapped up in Joel’s arms, to the sound of voices on the TV. Some comedy movie. Sounds like Adam Sandler. Joel mutes it when he notices you stirring.
“Afternoon,” he mutters, voice husky.
“Hi,” you reply softly, and his hand runs through your hair. “How long was I out?”
“Only a little while. They’re probably getting ready for lunch. You want me to head out first?”
You nod, suddenly feeling ashamed…and hungry. “Yeah. ‘n can you…make sure they don’t ask?”
“They ain’t gonna ask,” he groans, laughing as you roll off his body and let him up.
You watch as he dresses himself, toned arms pulling his tee over broad shoulders; tan legs slipping back into neat jeans. He slings his jacket over his arm and bends back down over you to let you kiss him again – slow, deep. Something of a thanks, a you’re welcome, maybe. A marker, anyway. A prelude to this weekend.
And then he slips out front. You lock the door behind him and start collecting your clothes, hopping around the cabin as you pull them on.
Before you leave, you grab a hoodie from your bag, feeling a little more exposed than you did when you first boarded. You toss it over your shoulders and open the door.
“Couple more hours,” Joel tells you as you sit opposite him, propping your ankles on his lap. His hands run over your socks, brows furrowing when he notices the pattern. “Bart Simpson?”
“Comfiest socks I own. Good plane socks.”
“Alright.”
“Go on. Make fun of ‘em.”
“I didn’t say anything. You want somethin’ to eat?”
You smirk. “Sure.”
He pours you a glass of water from the metal jug on the table between you both, and one of the attendants appears as if by magic on your right.
“Got you gluten free stuff,” Joel says as you gulp at the ice water.
You almost choke. “Seriously?”
His face twists, confused. Mirroring your astonishment. “Yeah. You think I’d let you starve?”
You almost laugh before you hear it, and realize how sweet it is. You didn’t even know Joel noticed this stuff. Didn’t think it’d be on his radar.
“Thank you,” you whisper, lifting your glass to mask the blush burning across your cheeks.
Joel nods once. Then turns to the attendant and asks for a burger, side of fries, side of onion rings. “We got sweet potato fries, Len?” he asks.
“Think so,” Len replies. “Want them instead? Or both?”
Joel thinks it over for probably two seconds, before he shrugs and says, “Both. Thanks, man.”
Len turns to you, but you’re still staring at Joel. “Unbelievable,” you mutter.
Joel holds his hands out. “I’m hungry.”
You give Len a smile. “What’s…What can I have?”
“We got gluten free flour, bread, pasta, uh…garlic bread for sides, too. And a couple desserts.”
“What the f…?” You stare at Joel. “You didn’t have to–”
“Just order, baby,” Joel says, palm facing you, stopping you from going on.
“I’ll, uh…You do fried chicken?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll have fried chicken, side of fries, and coleslaw, if you have it, please.”
Len nods curtly and heads back up front, leaving you and Joel on your own again. You finish your thought.
“What the fuck?”
He’s chuckling. “What?”
“You…This is…Nothing, you just…you blow my mind, every time.”
Joel shrugs, grinning. “Blow your back out, ‘n all.”
“Alright.” You snatch your ankles from his grasp – Bart’s toothy smirk slipping from between Joel’s fingers – and sit up straight, looking out of the window to the dazzling sky; bright blue on top and fluffy white clouds beneath.
Your food arrives shortly after and the pair of you eat in comfortable silence. Joel checks through his emails, you sit back in your seat with your headphones in. It’s nice, not having a phone to answer or Joel’s schedule to fix. Nicer, still, having him feet away from you, giving you all the attention you could possibly want at the drop of a hat.
You land in Paris at 10PM local time. Straight off the plane and into another sleek, black car, driven by a gray-haired, sharp-suited man named Denis whose hand Joel shakes before climbing in beside you. He slides into the leather seat and you fall against one another, your head on his shoulder. Partition wound up, though neither of you feel much like doing anything that’d require privacy. Your eyes are tired, heavy, you smell like eight hours’ worth of plane, and you’re basically salivating at the thought of collapsing into a huge, soft, clean bed.
Which is exactly what the pair of you do when you reach the hotel. You’re in some extravagant suite picked by Joel; you manage two glances around the dark place before he’s leading you by hand off to the bedroom, cases still parked at the front door.
And before you know it, you’re sinking into the plush sheets of a king-size bed, limbs entangled with Joel’s, city lights twinkling through the window into your sleep-glazed eyes as you drift off.
----------
Day breaks across Paris around seven in the morning. You wake with the blue glow of the sky, dusty pink on the horizon bleeding upward as the sun rises higher. When your eyes open and adjust to the light, you glance over Joel’s still sleeping body and notice the view behind him, split in half by the silhouette of the Eiffel Tower.
The curtains are still pulled back – neither of you noticed nor had the energy to shut them when you arrived. You’re both still in your clothes from yesterday, too. Joel managed to kick off his shoes, and you remember him pulling yours off before he fell into the bed next to you. You didn’t even sleep under the bedsheets.
You push yourself up off the bed, stretching your back and glancing around. This room is fucking nuts. Gold accented – gold handles, gold light switches, gold frames. Pretentious modern art decorating each wall, an upholstered headboard that almost touches the ceiling in front of you. Marble-topped nightstands with spotless silver lamps, glinting in the light.
You roll off of the bed, Bart Simpson socks landing on soft carpet, though his face has been awkwardly twisted around your ankle in your sleep. You shuffle off to a door on the left, leading down a small hallway – past some fancy ornate vase – to the living room: a wide, open space with the same floor-to-ceiling windows as the bedroom, looking out to the same view.
Two velvet couches sit opposite one another, a white marble coffee table sat between. Behind them, a dining table with eight chairs. Gleaming varnished wood. And then, through a couple more doors, a kitchenette with modern white cabinets, a coffee machine, a microwave.
Fucking. Nuts.
You hear Joel stirring in the bedroom and wander back through, dazed with sleep and amazement at this place. He’s rubbing his eyes when you walk in and spring down on top of him on the bed.
“Mornin’,” he grumbles, voice thick and husky. His hands fall onto your thighs, sat either side of his waist, and his eyes flutter open. “You’re energetic.”
“Have you fucking seen this place?”
“I have. Stay here every year.”
You press further into him, feeling a swell in his jeans and doing your best to ignore it.
“Can we go explore?”
“Outside?”
You nod eagerly, despite the way his face screws up.
“Baby,” he sighs, “I’m still in my damn jeans.”
“So, go shower. Get dressed.”
He’s not done protesting. “We travelled for, like, nine hours straight yesterday.”
“’n now we’re here and we ain’t here long, so let’s go do something. C’mon.”
You lace your fingers through Joel’s and pull him up toward you, sitting in his lap on the bed. He buries his face in your chest, mumbling something incoherent into the cotton of your shirt.
You giggle. “Huh? Can’t hear you.”
Joel pulls back with a sigh and rolls his eyes dramatically. “Alright,” he says, “go get ready.”
You leap off of him with a quiet squeal of glee.
As you pace around the suite, dragging your case into the bedroom, fishing some clean clothes and your toothbrush out, practically skipping into the marble-tiled shower room, Joel lays back in bed watching your every move. Smiling, eyebrows lifting with encouragement anytime you look over to him. Head resting back in the crook of his arm, sleepy eyes taking in all of your excitement.
You’re rinsing shampoo out of your hair when he slides into the shower behind you, a quick kiss to your shoulder.
“No sex,” you tell him with a pointed finger, squeezing the lemon scented gel into the palm of your hand.
“No, ma’am,” he says with a smirk, dipping his head to let you lather up the suds in his salt and pepper hair. “So, where we goin’?”
You shrug. “Wherever. Lots to do in Paris.”
“Wanna get you somethin’ nice,” he says, eyes screwed shut as he runs his head under the flow of water, “a thanks for comin’ with me.”
“I think maybe the private jet, the hotel room, plus the free trip in itself is thanks enough, Joel.”
But Joel disagrees. Heartily, apparently.
He takes your hand and helps you out of the car on a tree-lined street, tall cream buildings on either side. It looks like a movie set. You’re following Joel’s lead, spending more time craning your neck to look up at the huge, ornate windows guarded by black balconettes while he guides you across cobblestone toward the smoothly paved sidewalk.
You’re not even paying attention to where he’s taking you until you’re stood in the middle of a glistening store, plush rug under your feet, lavish chairs in the center of the room, a rainbow of fashion surrounding you.
“What…? No, Joel.”
“Hm?” he asks, eyes scanning the room. He takes a step, and you tug on his arm.
“I can’t fucking afford Gucci,” you whisper, pulling his body back against yours.
He hands you a bemused smile, eyebrows low, corners of his lips pulled. “All expenses paid, baby.”
Your arm falls limp and he drags you through the store, past mannequins in patterned gowns and silk shirts, past shelves of obnoxiously huge purses and accessories gleaming in the spotlights from above.
Your fingers stay locked around Joel’s hand, your head swiveling so much you worry it might fall off, looking from the vibrant floral wallpaper down to the spotless tiled floor, glancing politely at attendants and then dipping your head and wandering by them behind Joel.
“See anything?” he asks, turning to you at the opposite end of the store.
It’s ridiculous. This entire trip…is ridiculous, and you’ve only been here twelve hours. Following around at Joel’s heels like a puppy, watching as he clicks his fingers – no, before he even gets the chance to click his fingers – and everything and anything either of you could dream up just…happens. Right in front of you.
He won’t let up. You know him. If you tried to pull him back outside onto the street, he’d buy you something for the hell of it.
You know him. So, you decide to use that to your advantage.
“Gucci…I dunno…” you muse, squinting at him.
“Not your thing?” he asks, and he seems curious, but – you know him. You know that behind that polite mask is a smirk thick enough to make your knees wobble. He knows what you’re doing. “Where to, angel?”
You lead him out of the store. Feel his shadow behind you, watching as you thank the doorman and take a left around the corner, passing under the shade of the gently rustling trees. Arm in arm, you arrive before a huge archway, pristine windows surrounding the door to…
“Dolce & Gabbana…” Joel looks up at the stone writing atop the arch. “Alright. Classy girl.”
You giggle, pulling him past the wrought-iron fence and inside.
It’s sleeker, moodier. Less in your face. Suits you a bit better, though you can’t quite swallow back the guilt that sticks in your throat as you saunter around, Joel right behind you. It catches you when an assistant touches your arm, snapping you out of your daze, and asks if you need anything.
“No, thank you,” you reply, mirroring her smile. “Thank you.”
She nods and floats off.
Joel’s frame shells around yours, dipping his jaw to lean against your shoulder. “What about that one?” His eyes flit up to a mannequin just past a lit table of purses.
“The black one?”
“Mhm.”
“You like that?”
He repeats, a little more exaggerated: “Mhm.”
You shrug. “I do look good in black.”
“Look better in nothin’.” Joel steps forward and takes the tag between two delicate fingers, deliberately hiding it from you. He turns back, lifts his eyebrows in question. “Buy you it if you promise to wear it tonight.”
You smile. This man knows how to barter. And you take no convincing at all.
“Alright,” you accept, “deal.”
----------
Three hours later, you’re strolling down another cobbled street with an ice cream in your hand. And not much else, by the way. Joel’s taken all the shopping bags back to the hotel. He slapped your hand away when you tried to lift one of them from his clutches.
The wind sifts gently through your hair, cooling your face and neck, toying with the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing. It flutters the French flags overhead, red, white and blue blowing in the breeze. Cars roll by, engines humming as they weave in and out between one another, horns calling out in the distance.
Joel hadn’t let you come up to the counter to pay with him, had insisted you stay right where you were standing, and when he finished up and laced his fingers through yours, it was like a surge of energy had shot through him.
He led you out of the store and into another, and another, and another…until his hands were wrapped around, what, six bags? All carrying different components of your outfit for tonight.
And then he’d noticed the time – unlocked his phone with a curse under his breath, and kissed your temple. Midday. He was meeting Jean-Marc in an hour.
“You wanna come back with me? Chill at the hotel?” he’d asked, dialing his chauffeur’s number.
“I’m good,” you said, smiling sweetly as he squeezed your shoulder. Then, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed you his card.
“’case you see anything else you want.”
“Joel,” you protested, but he’d shut you up by clicking his teeth and walking off, leaving you to follow after him, shamelessly beaming.
He’d apologized another three times before Denis had pulled up, then once more as he loaded the trunk with your bags.
“See you later. Enjoy your meeting,” you teased, laughing at the way his face twisted into a grimace as the car rolled off.
It’d been a pretty nice afternoon. You’d dipped into a couple more stores – though, without Joel to impress, the low-cut dresses and short miniskirts were somewhat less exciting.
That is, until you passed by a lingerie store. You stood outside for a second, peering by your reflection in the window to study what lay behind. Suddenly lace and satin – and the idea of Joel seeing you in them – seemed a lot more enticing.
You’d pieced together an entire getup: bra, panties, garter belt, even a pair of stockings, and a silk robe to go over the top. You handed over Joel’s card, ignoring the way your cheeks began to heat and focusing instead on how smug you felt, and skipped out of the store, bag in hand.
You’d called Denis five minutes ago to ask for a ride back to the hotel. He called you Madame, he said Nonono every time you apologized for bothering him again, and he promised he’d be there in less than ten minutes.
You pace back and forth along the curb, waiting for the shiny black Maybach to pull up. You’ve checked your phone, like, five times already, kinda hoping there’ll be a text from Joel. You swing the bag between your fingers.
A door swings open behind you, giggles filter out into the street, and you turn to see a couple bounding out of a jewelers, hand in hand. She flicks her left wrist up, tilts it in the sun. It’s hard to ignore the light bouncing off of her ring finger. You feel nauseous at the sight.
Suddenly the Parisian street dissolves, and what sweeps over in replacement is a long, empty lawn, maple trees swaying menacingly in the distance. There’s a blur of bright blue sky, sunrays bursting across your vision. Your hand comes up to shield your eyes, and there he is. There he was.
He was on the grass. You told him to stand up; his suit trousers would be stained green. He did it anyway. Trembling hands, expectant stare. You stuttered and stammered your way through a sentence fueled by shock and horror and…resentment.
And then you did it anyway, too.
The crackle of tires coming to a stop on the road in front drags your fraught gaze from the couple, now strutting off down the avenue. You reach for the door handle, but Denis is already out of the car and leaning down, hand on your back as you duck into the backseat.
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#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#ceo!joel miller#ceo!joel#the last of us#tlou#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#joel miller smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal joel miller#joel miller x you#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo#softdom!joel miller#softdom!joel#sugardaddy!joel miller#joel tlou#joel the last of us#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfiction
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Photo Finisher
Minors DNI
Summary: You've been asked to participate in a photo shoot for the Vogue World Fashion Show to showcase a friend's clothing line. The model you working with has heard of your reputation and lets you know of his expectations early...
Warnings: Male reader, Pet names, Soft dom Jeno, Big dick Jeno, Daddy Kink, Business relationship, Unprotected sex, Multiple orgasms, Overstimulation, Praise kink, Breeding kink
Wordcount: 2k
Your body was heavy as you lay in bed jet lagged from the flight.
You'd been asked to attend Vogue World in New York to participate in a clothing showcase for a business friend of your company. You didn't really know the client, but your boss expressed how important it was to make them happy. You were to behave and follow any requests given to you by the client.
While you knew how important the case was, you couldn't bring yourself to emerge from the comfort of the covers.
A loud knock hit your door, "Um, Mister y/n? Are you there? I hate to bother you, but we need you to meet the models for some pre-event photos."
You rolled over to look at the clock. 11 am.
Fuck.
You're late.
"I'm coming now," You shouted back as you started pulling clothes out of your suitcase. It didn't really matter what you were going to wear since you were taking the photos and not in them. When you emerged from your room, you were wearing a white button-up with the top three buttons closed, black leather shorts, and knee-high white socks. "Apologies, I overslept," You said softly while rubbing your eyes.
Your manager nodded, "It's alright, y/n. We're running behind, so I need to take you to meet the VIP, there you'll get to know him, take a few photos, and then wait until the staff collect the both of you." He looked you over, "Are you sure you'd like to wear this? It's cold outside."
You nodded, not really listening, "Yes, it's fine. I'll bring a coat. If it's too bad then it's my fault. Let's go."
Your manager took you up two floors in the elevator and led you into a suite. There were staff in the room doing finishing touches on a man who immediately turned to greet you.
He was tall, had dark hair, and wore a black suit that opened to show his shirtless form.
"Hello, I'm Jeno from NCT. I'll be your model today, it's an honor to work with you," He pulled his his suit jacket closed as it slipped open and revealed his muscular torso.
His smile was bright and slightly embarrassed, "I'm sorry, this isn't the kind of clothes I usually wear. And you look amazing too, the stylists worked hard on your outfit."
You looked down at the clothes you'd thrown on. "Thank you, Jeno, let's chat," You sat on his bed as his makeup staff began to clean up and leave.
Jeno nodded and sat in a chair across from you, posing naturally. He was perfect. The way the jacket slid open to show his abs, the single silver chain necklace, and the simplicity of the outfit made it more sexy.
You coughed, trying to focus on your job, "So, Jeno, do you know who I am?"
He nodded, "You're y/n, the famous photographer. You're so good that you can make a rock look like it's something Picasso painted."
You suppressed a prideful smile. "And you're Jeno from NCT, one of the rappers and dancers, right?" You pretended you didn't remember much of the information you'd been given in his file, but it was a long flight with nothing to do. Of course, you'd read it over a few times. "You're the only one in your group selected to be here as a representative– it's a lot of pressure, right?"
He nodded gingerly, "Yes! I'm so anxious about making any mistakes. So I've trying to keep myself balanced."
You looked out the window, natural light pouring out of it then examined Jeno's face. His structure was more beautiful as his natural structure made shadows that accentuated his form more.
"You're lucky, you know that?"
"I am. Because I get to work with you."
"Most people say so much just for a consultation. But we're even going to have a private photo shoot too."
Jeno's posture shifted forward as he sat up, leaning on his hands that used his knees for support.
You bit the inside of your cheek as the smooth clothes moved around his body, every roll and wave of the clothes revealed more for you to enjoy.
"So. I've also heard a secondary function that you serve, to ensure photos are better," Jeno stated. His energy was different now, he was playful like a dog earlier but now Jeno spoke more like a man. "I've heard that you have sex with your clients because their natural beauty is enhanced from orgasms."
You cocked your head to the side, "So you've done thorough research on me. Even about my beliefs about my work."
"I also know that you're rather picky about those you'd have sex with. You're usually only assigned male clients, adults, and those who pay lots of money to ensure they look good."
You nodded, "And?"
"And you can tell if someone is worth the extra work from a glance."
You smiled, "Wow, you're so well-studied."
Jeno stood, letting the jacket hang open for you to look at his body, "Do I pass?" You could see his pants had tightened with a huge bulge that he was putting on display for you.
"Are you ready for me to make you beautiful?" You said softly as you opened your shirt, letting it barely hang on you as you crawled further onto the bed, toward the edge where he was standing.
"I'm willing to do anything for you, gorgeous," Jeno moaned as you put your hand on his crotch. "You've got me so hard already," He gently slid his pants and underwear away to reveal his massive cock. It poked your lips as it twitched, Jeno shook his hips so it would slap your face a few times.
You couldn't restrain yourself, and Jeno could tell from how your legs squished together.
He pushed you onto the bed and he kissed your body and face, leaving a few love bites on your stomach.
"You ready for my cock?" Jeno asked as he dragged a finger down your stomach, tracing the darkened spots he'd made.
"Mmm, please," You moaned as he slid your pants.
Jeno's suit jacket was still on him, and when he slit it off you were allowed to behold his true body. He was designed for a camera, you took mental notes of how his muscles flexed and shone in each movement.
"Tell me what you want," Jeno whispered as he hooked your leg on his shoulder, his dick rubbing against it. Jeno's eyes were dark, and his smile was mischievous, but he was still obedient to you.
"I want you to fuck me, please, Daddy."
"Daddy, I didn't think you were a Daddy's boy," Jeno chuckled as he pulled your shorts off. Your hole was waiting, twitching, and Jeno slipped in a finger experimentally. It slipped in with no resistance, which made Jeno's jaw loosen in arousal, "You prepared yourself?"
You nodded, "Just for you."
"Next time, I want to do it," He kissed your forehead as he pointed his cock toward you.
You nodded breathlessly as Jeno pushed into you, "O-Okay, I'll do that." Your eyes rolled back as Jeno slowly slid into you. His cock felt neverending, it just kept pushing deeper into you as you shook on the bed helplessly. "You're so... deep," You moaned as you felt your hips come into contact with Jeno's.
"You're doing so good, good for Daddy," Jeno complimented as he placed his hand on your stomach. "Look here, baby," He moved your hand to feel his cock bulging you. It was the first time for you, and you could barely keep yourself sane as Jeno's cock throbbed inside you.
"It's so big, too much," You moaned as you tried to move away from Jeno, but he grabbed your arms pulling you back into him.
"No running, that's not allowed. You signed up for me and seduced me like this, so you have to take responsibility."
Jeno started slow and gentle as he started fucking you. Only moving a few inches at a time, keeping you mostly filled. Each thrust was still enough to make you moan like he was going all out with you.
"It's okay if you cum, baby. Don't hold it, it'll be harder for you if you're holding it back." Jeno pulled back and used your arms to pull you into him as he thrust forward, slamming into you, and you came instantly from the impact.
Your body tingled and twitched as Jeno stopped moving, he admired you clinging around him.
"I-I... Can't... More," You tried to beg.
"You want more?"
You shook your head, begging.
"That's not very fair. Getting off and then telling me to stop. I won't continue until you say, but you're going to have to sit right here until then," Jeno rolled his hips to remind you he's inside you still.
"J-Jeno, please," You moaned.
"Hm? Daddy's here, have you calmed down?" Jeno cooed as he kissed your chest, feeling your heartbeat start to slow down.
"More, please."
"As you wish, my prince," Jeno said as he laid onto you, holding you by your shoulders and hugging you tightly, your cum sticking you and Jeno together. He pumped into you, as he watched your expression. Your eyes are wide open and out of focus, moaning like crazy, and even drooling. "You're so cute like this, I wish you could be like this every time we meet," Jeno kissed your neck while he continued.
It felt like an hour, Jeno hit you nonstop. Grunting and groaning with every thrust. "I'm almost there, hang in there, baby," Jeno encouraged.
Jeno's encouragement went on for an extra five minutes, without losing steam.
"P-Please," You begged.
"I'm so close, I mean it. I–" Jeno couldn't finish his sentence as he groaned loudly in your ear as he came inside you, somehow pushing even deeper into you. The sensation made you cum instantly, making more of a mess on Jeno.
You're eyes rolled and your whole body shook as Jeno fucked out his high, pushing into you. You could feel every pump of Jeno's cock, pouring into you, his cum warming your insides.
Jeno, covered in sweat, sat up to look at his work. "We're gonna need to get you cleaned up."
You groaned, "Let's sleep."
"Let's? As in together? I didn't take a businessman like you to be so domestic," Jeno laughed.
"Who are you calling domestic!?" You sat up but the pain made you lay back down. "I can't sit up, you broke me."
Jeno scooped you into his arms, "Then I'll bathe you. I'll dock this service out of your pay."
"Like hell–You want to bathe me."
"So you'd rather lay like this?"
"If it means I don't lose money."
"Money? What about my feelings?"
"Your feelings don't pay."
"They can. Make me happy and I'll leave a personal tip," Jeno winked at you.
"I think you might give more than the tip..." You covered your face, wiping the sweat away as Jeno took you into the bathroom.
Jeno was more than thorough with you. Not only did he help clean the cum out of you, he massaged your insides, back, and neck with firm hands. The massage made you hard again, but Jeno said there was no more time for fun. He even dried you off and helped you back into your clothes.
"You're now so clean, baby," Jeno patted your ass, which made you wince. "Now, let's get to photos." He handed you your camera and directed the shoot himself, coming up with all the perfect angles, lighting, and photos. You just listened to him when he told you to take the photo.
After the photoshoot, Jeno texted his manager to tell them he'd finished. "Are you planning to go to the fashion show?"
You nodded, "I have to go, my boss told me I need to network."
"Then, will you be my plus one?"
"Like walk the red carpet?"
"Maybe."
You sighed, "Just don't slow me down."
"I think I should say that to you," Jeno said as he grabbed your ass, making you moan as you lean into him.
#oracle of dreams#kpop x male reader#kpop x male reader smut#jeno x reader#nct jeno#jeno lee#lee jeno#nct dream smut#nct smut#jeno smut#jeno#x male reader#x reader#x male smut#nct x male reader#x male y/n#nct dream
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𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐚
Pairings: Jaemin Na x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Jaemin Na, the dashing yet ambitious magnate, is tired of playing the toll as a silent stakeholder. He wants your father's business. He wants the whole thing, even if it means seducing the boss's daughter to get it.
Warning: Business Rivals to Fwb to lovers, Toxic Family Relationship, Violence, Business politics, Businessman AU, Forbidden Relationship, Slight Angst, Male Manipulation, Manipulation tactics, Smut (+18) Minors dni, Daddy Kink, Degradation Kink, Rough Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Ownership Kink, DDLG, Fingering, Spitting, Marking, Bruises, Grinding, Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex.
A/N: My third NCT Dream fic! They're truly my favorite group, so I plan on writing more for them. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this. Excuse me while I project my daddy kink onto Jaemin. Im sorry, but my bias fuels it way too much. You all saw that live, right?... THAT one live. Iykyk. Anyway, he's so daddy coded, okay bye.
The moon is high, and the night is deep when you find yourself quite literally being paraded around a bustling open reception. Goldleaf and tinsel wrap around the off-white columns, veneering the room in a deep but faintly expensive sepia tone. Despite the hatred festering in your bones, you did have to admit that the clubhouse in the very center of a highly competitive Country Club did make for a good party reception indeed. Nestling all of 100 dapper guests, 100 partners, wives and mistresses, and 100 wallets, to sink their wrinkled hands into.
Your father did know how to throw a party, you'd certainly give the man that. That is all you give him, however. That is all the grace he deserves.
Despite the tempest of emotions in your veins, the laughter you emit to the group surrounding the small appetizer's table is static and robotic, and anything but genuine. It pitters politely out of your lips as you raise the flute of shampagne, hoping to disguise just how fucking annoyed you actually were.
"You'll do well to remember the name," your father proclaims before laying a hand on your back as he pushes you closer into the circle of suited men - a lamb to the proverbial slaughter.
"She's going to be running things once I retire," a Jazz number played by a live band is not enough to drown out the influx of chatter that spreads throughout the main hall of the Clubhouse at the news of your father's retirement. You could practically here the thinning lips salivate at the very sound of it: The emperor, stepping down, leaving his empire vulnerable to the raiders.
"I feel proud and so unbelievably lucky to have such a reliable line of succession." Says your father, "When I'm six foot under, I'll know that Neo Tech is safe in her hands-"
A snicker escapes, likely concocted by the decent amount of alcohol in your blood, "Although that time isn't coming soon enough!" Your statement allows for a grand chuckle to fall across the table where you all stood, nursing your deviled eggs and bacon-wrapped asparagus.
The display is that of good-natured jest between a father and daughter to the guests around you, clad in ambercrombie suits and Alexander Mcqueen gowns.
Your father, however, slithers a hand onto your shoulder, squeezing all too hard as he laughs statically.
You can feel the warning in his calloused grip. A stern threat...
Not too much, it cautioned.
The action, though seemingly innocent and fleeting to the rest of the table, draws the attention of a man whose countenance had been sparse and dismisive the entire evening. Despite this being a private gathering for your father's most trusted stakeholders and their partners, Jaemin had been far from interested in attending.
Once, he was made privy to the knowledge that this was a retirement celebration, however... that changed things, and Jaemin threw on his jet black Armani blazer over a silky unisex blouse that stretched across his chest.
He admits that he made his attendance out of greed. Having to save face and play the roll of the responsibile stakeholder before he was truly able to pillage your father's company right from underneath him. If that meant entertaining the degenerate conversation of greying white men with viagra prescriptions and a cocaine addiction, then so be it.
"It truly is a shame that I have to take something from someone as promising as yourself." He whispers to himself over the rim of his own champagne flute, his darkened eyes stationed on you. It was difficult not to stare, when you were being hounded by business associates, men and women alike, eager to ascertain how they might win the hand of the queen.
A silk gown drips like the liquidfied night sky down your curves, spilling on the floor around what Jaemin imagined to be ample, soft thighs - something he could sink his fingers into, sink his teeth into-
You're chuckling very fakely at something an investor said at a round cocktail table nearby. Although what really gets Jaemin's blood rushing through his arteries is the sight of your father dragging you away from the main hall, up a spiraling stair case. Jaemin prided himself on minding his business. This came second nature to him.
What he could not ignore, however, was the slight alarm, marring the scowl along your soft face. Nothing could spoil your perfect makeup, but the frown he caught a glimpse of before you disappeared was enough.
Jaemin almost immediately found his Hilfiger loafers leading him down the path you had just walked. He downed the golden liquid in his flute and, never breaking eye contact from the spiral staircase, placed the glass on the tray of a mobile waiter. He wiped the access champagne off his lips, quite barbarically, with the sleeves of his blazer as he emerged into the main foyer.
Immediately, a hiss of conversation could be heard from the mezzanine above.
"-the hands of the company! Do you understand how important this is?! How fucking ungrateful you are-"
"Not to interrupt," Jaemin speaks, slyly climbing the stairs as he stuffed his hand into the pocket of his dress pants. The look your father thows him is absolutely villanizing.
Instead of shying away, however, you swallow thickly to note a slow sick sort of smirk curling onto Jaemin's face.
"Who the fuck are you?" Instead of sparing your father any look at all, Jaemin's gaze is solidified on your father's violent grip on your forearm.
"You don't know who he is?" You ask your father, marginally shocked but not at all surprised as Jaemin neared the two of you.
"That's okay, that's okay," he says, letting the gleaming smirk stay solid across his face, "My father sends his greetings, by the way" Jaemin says, "I didn't wish for our 45% share not to be represented at such a monumental event."
Therein lies the very first signs of embarrassment around your father's face. He begrudgingly removes his grip from your forearm but does not leave before he quickly tacks on, "Excuse me, Mr Na, but this is a private conversation -"
Jaemin is already lifting his hand, his Rolex gleaming under the crystal chandelier as he casually says, "Important enough to miss an audience with your shareholders? Everyone is asking for you, big man." Jaemin replies smoothly, "You are still the boss, right?"
Then, and only then does Jaemin exchange the very first real bit if eye contact with you tnh entire evening, and God strike you dead if it did not release an influx of warm, sputtering butterflies with molten wings in the pit of your stomach. You're still glidd to his side. The successor cradled tightly to her Daddy's arm.
"We'll finish this later," Your father hisses in your ear before stepping back and giving Jaemin one final nod. His disappearance births an uncomfortable heat and even more uncomfortable silence in the mezzanine. Jaemin does nothing but watch you with a tilted head and a near constant smirk.
"Hi." He says cheekily, all of the seriousness in his voice gone as he begins to move closer to you. You only roll your eyes before turning around to scour for a free room in the clubhouse. He follows cooly and calmly.
"Stop staring at my ass," you chide, pushing open a heavy door before switching on the light.
"Nah," Jaemin follows you inside. "Don't tell me what to do,"
He turns to peer down the corridor with one raised eyebrow before effectively sealing the door shut. You had led the both of you into one of the very many guest suites peppered across the Clubhouse. Jaemin is remarkably pleased to notice how your inhibitions immediately melt away. Your shoulders relax as you kick off your red bottomed heels, letting them land lazily in a corner.
"You haven't told him have you?" His voice is stable but rumbles like a heavy cloud throughout the room.
You evade eye contact as you quickly walk up to him, beginning to splay tiny kisses around his exposed neck.
"No, Jaemin," Your breathe fans across his exposed skin as you undo thr little bow of the silk blouse, "I did not tell my father about your plans to rape his company," You push down his blazer and he lets you. Watching you with a piercing glare as a deep, warm, pool of lust begins to grow in your core at the very sight of how big he truly is.
"Would you rather he find out on the day?" He asks, still letting you undress him as if he was a lifeless piece of him. "I know you're evil but that evil-"
"Fuck, you're so hot," Jaemin's cock stirs, as it always did, when that needy sort of whine pushed itself out the confines of your throat. You knew what buttons to push, to get the reaction you wanted. Tonight, however, would prove to be a much different occasion.
"How long do you plan on waiting?" You're nails are dragging itself down the front of his muscled body. Before you can reach his cock, already causing a bulge in his dress pants, Jaemin roughly grabs at your wrist.
"I said. How long do you plan on waiting?" Despite the calmness in his voice, Jaemin's grip on your wrist is unrelenting. It is rough, and it is violent, and it makes your father's earlier grip on your forearm feel like a child's play.
"Fucking forever, Jaemin! Jesus!" You burst in a flurry of rage and lust and frustration. "I will wait until forever it means I won't get outed as a shit daughter and a fucking rat, Jaemin!"
He tilts his head as he smiles and cooly says, "Watch that tone."
But he's already got you going, and you're finally letting out the feelings that had only been building for the duration of an entire, hellish evening. "Can you even begin to understand how I feel?! I know you want this company, but -"
"But?" Jaemin asks in a sing-song voice before pulling you closer by your wrist. He dips his head down, folding his tall frame over as he tilts your head up. "There shouldn't be a but, baby." The words are veneered in a lustful whisper as he finally places his lips to your throat.
"With me, it's either all or nothing." Now it's Jaemin's turn to slowly drag his hands up the side of your curves. He lets the tips of his fingers tease the fabric as he smoothes his hand over your chest. Your resolve explodes, and you melt right into him, as his hand makes its way up your throat. His palm enclosing the spot where his lips have just been.
"I hate seeing you like that, baby. I hate seeing you glued to his side when you should be glued to mine."
You're faintly aware that you're both mobile now. Not knowing which way is up and which is down as your back presses against a wall.
"He's..." you swallow thickly as Jaemin slips down the soft fabric of your dress. Your exposed shoulder is immediately assaulted by his reign of wet and drunken kisses.
As he tongues at the skin, Jaemin makes sure to look up at you. Siren eyes under thick eyebrows as he pushes the fabric all the way down until your dress is pooling at your feet and you're left in nothing but your Fenty underwear.
"He's family." You applaud yourself mentally for having the brain capacity to formulate all of two words. That celebration, however, immediately falls short when Jaemin snickers. He pulls back, turning his head slightly as his tongue stabs the inside of his mouth before swinging his head back to you.
"You always tell me you only have one, Daddy, don't you?"
A deep, angry heat blossoms around your skin as you evade eye contact. "Jesus, Jaemin."
"Jaemin?" He mocks, before pushing you back further onto wall.
"Is that who I am to you?"
"That is your name, yes." Your confidence waver when his hands begin to push down the straps of bra. He undoes the clasps as he says, "Interesting. So then, i guess, my name wasnt Jaemin, when i fucked you on a nalcony in Mykonos? Got it."
He's quick to push your panties down far enough so that he's forcing his fingers between your legs. The gasp you emit is almost painful as you immediately buck your hips into his hand. “Fuck-”
“You cum on my hand, correct?”
“F-Fuck,” he lets you hump lazily into his palm and you all but whimper as your begin to yearn for him to fuck you with his long digits.
“You cum on my hand. You cum on my cock. Only I can do that for you, baby”
“God, yes, Daddy.”
Jaemin has to physically stop himself from not pulling his pants down and fucking your brains right right and there. Those words leaving your mouth did something animalistic to him- scratching a very archaic part of his monkey brain that let him know that you needed him. You needed him to reach orgasm, you needed him to fuck you to feel good. You needed him.
“You don't need anyone else, but me, right baby?”
You're so dangerously close to the edge, your vision blurring with your oncoming orgasm as you reply, “You, Daddy- only you.”
His cock is pushing painfully against dress pants and Jaemin swear as he pulls his blouse over his head. Your breathing grows even more precipitous when you see his torso in all its big and gleaming glory.
“need you so bad,” you mumble, still pushing your hips out even though his hand has disappeared and there's nothing there.
“Yeah?” He asks, pulling his cock out without breaking eye contact, “You need Daddy’s cock, don't you, sweetheart?”
“I need it,” you whisper and watch as your words affect him in ways you had not seen before.
Jaemin’s eyes are blown into saucers while the tips of his brown hair is drenched in sweat. Gone is the cockiness. Gone is the smirk. He only brings a cupped hand up to your mouth as he orders you to, “Spit.”
Almost without thinking about it, you do just that, and Jaemin watches with an open mouth as he begins to stroke his himself with your wetness. He throws his head back in a broken amalgamation of a moan and a gasp, and you're only left to watch while your hand almost subconsciously moves down your own body.
The sound of your wetness brings Jaemin back to the mission at hand as he lolls his head forward. The sight of you fucking yourself, knuckles deep, as your eyes zero in on his hand, has him immediately pushing you against the wall.
“You're such a fucking slut-” He hisses and you moan as he pulls your hand up to his mouth. “Did Daddy teach you to be a slut?” and when you fail to respond he only says, “Answer me,” he says cooly, “Did I teach you to be a slut, or a good girl?”
You have truly reached a stalemate. Not knowing what to say that might garner a favourable response. Dread pools in your tummy and Jaemin only watches as go to war with yourself. The conflict in your eye is present and raw.
All is quiet as Jaemin bends down slowly and that signature smirk curls at the end of his lips.
“Cute.” He whispers before crashing his lips against yours.
Your hands enclose around the back of Jaemin's hand as he effortlessly picks you up off the ground, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. He pushes you up against the wall and the immediate contact of your dripping pussy pressed against his skin has you both moaning and groaning into the kiss.
“So fucking cute...” He whispers before easing his cock right into you, “You're so fucking tight- fuck-” the wind sounds like it has been knocked clean out of him as he begins to fuck you with harsh, violent thrusts.
“That's it, pretty girl,”
You can hear the smile in his voice and you fight to open your eyes. If there was one thing that got you even wetter it was the sight of Jaemin just managing a lazy open-mouth smile as he forced his cock into your cunt. It stings and hurts but the pleasure in his hooded eyes make the experience all the more worth it.
Jaemin clenches his jaw together as he leans down until you're both forehead to forehead.
“That man downstairs isn't your Daddy, is he?” His eyes dare you to disagree with him but all you do us shake your head as you say, “You. You're my Da- oh God.”
“I'll take that title too,” he chuckles before pushing his face into the crook of your neck as he sped up his pace. Jaemin fucks hard and rough and you claw mindlessly at his back. He loves it. You know he does because his cock is twitching inside of you and you know he's close.
“Fuck-Daddy, please!”
Your begging nearly sends him over the edge but he still manages to keep his thrusts hard and unrelenting. “You gonna cum for me, Princess?”
“F-Fuck yes, Sir-”
“You're not gonna keep me a secret, are you? Promise me. ” You knew what he was doing, forcing you into a mental state of complete disrepair as he bullied his cock into your cunt.
“F-Fuck," he hisses, "Answer me, baby- ‘mgonna fill your cunt so fucking fast,” he breathes out, before throwing his head back again.
“Promise!” You grit out, “I promise-” almost immediately, your orgasm washes over you eliciting wave after wave of delicious pleasure that has your mind rumbling.
“F-Fuck you're so tight- Fuck, Fuck, fuck-!” He exclaims before he's emptying himself inside of you. He's fucking you with the stamina of a caveman as he forces his seed all the way inside. “God you're so sexy, you know that?” He says, with his eyes still clenched shut as his aftershocks pass through his body. “So fucking hot.”
While his mind soars on the wings of his orgasm, that post nut clarit crashes through gradually. You breathe out steadily as you stare into nothingness. “I can't believe I gave our family company away like that,”
A hand is quick to pull you by the chin until you're looking up at him. Even with his wet and matted hair, along with the beads of sweat growing pregnant on his brow, Jaemin remains ever handsome. His smile ever present.
“It's still the family business, Honey.” Jaemin smirks, “Our family.”
♡♡♡ if you made it this far, thanks for reading
#jaemin na#jaemin na x reader#jaemin na fanfic#jaemin na smit#jaemin x reader#jaemin smut#jaemin fanfic#jaemin fluff#jaemin fic#nct dream#nct dream x reader#nct dream x you#nct dream fanfic#nct dream fluff#nct dream smut
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# JET LAGGED ! — toji fushiguro
✩༄ toji fucks you dumb on a private jet.
• pairing - ceo! toji x wife! reader
• content warning - f! reader, public fucking??, dom! toji, sub! reader, doggystyle, throat-fucking, ass slapping, use of pet names such as ( baby, slut, mama ) breeding kink, reader has a tramp stamp and toji has hand tats idk why.
• a/n - hiii omg, i had fun writing this one. please excuse any mistakes i was high making this. 🧍🏽♀️i love u all and thank u for reading, i hope u enjoyyy <33
you poured a glass of champagne before getting comfy in your seat. your husband, toji, had strung you along on a business trip to europe. you’ve always wanted to go — and he knew that — so he had a thought.
why not bring his favorite woman to accompany him on this journey?
you took tiny sips from your glass as you read over a few pages of your current book, toji sitting across from you with your legs on his lap. he was rubbing your freshly painted toes all the while staring at you like a starved man.
“everything okay, my love?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows in an inquisitive manner. you looked so damn cute. you’d gotten your hair done before the trip — those lengthy, pretty braids that he loved to pull on while you cried out his name from under him.
“you look good.”
if there was anything you knew about toji, it’d be that he hated being pissed off — and that’s exactly what you’d done. being such a brat that you couldn’t wait until you landed at your destination, you decided to fuck with him in an attempt to get him all riled up — but you were playing with fire here.
if there was anything you knew about toji, it’d be that he hated being pissed off — and that’s exactly what you’d done. being such a brat that you couldn’t wait until you landed at your destination, you decided to fuck with him in an attempt to get him all riled up — but you were playing with fire here.
“i should bend your ass over and fuck you right now, but that wouldn’t be very appropriate of me now would it?”
your lashes batted at him, a slight smirk on your pretty face. “what’s stopping you?” you test, earning a look from toji. he wanted you — so badly too, but he knew the flight attendants would most definitely hear your moans echo throughout the plane.
cause when toji hit it, toji hit it good.
“what’re you bein’ a brat for?”
“what’s wrong, baby. can’t play your own game?” he knew what you were referring to. the little kitchen mishap this morning before your departure. he’d been teasing you — kissing the sweet spot on your neck in an attempt to have a quickie before heading to the airport. the two of you were already behind on time and you knew how important this trip was — toji, on the other hand, was willing to put it on pause.
“y/n, watch your mouth.”
“you started it,” you mumble, but rather quietly cause you knew that if he heard that fall from your mouth you’d be in a load of troubl—
“what was that?”
you pretended not to hear him, quickly averting your eyes back to the book in your hands. toji removed your foot from his lap and arose from his seat, now standing directly in front of you, being face to face with his bulge.
“take my pants off.”
your doe eyes gape up at him, “toji we’re landing in two hours, would you sit down and wait until—”
“does it look like i give a fuck? take my pants off.”
he had to be joking. there was no way he’d fuck you on this plane right now — not when there was a possibility of someone seeing you. toji was a private man. you’d told him once before that you were into the idea of fucking in public, but he shut you down — saying, ‘that pussy is only for me to see.’ he liked to keep you to himself, although that statement didn’t really seem to apply right now.
you couldn’t deny the pool between your thighs as you reached for his belt. you peered up at him just to see him already staring down at you with a stern look on his face. once you removed his slacks and underwear, his thick cock sprung out, hitting his stomach and leaking with precum.
he obviously wasn’t too mad about your attitude.
“you know what to do.”
and you did — without another hesitant thought, you stuck your tongue out and licked at his slit. after a few more licks, you engulfed him into your mouth, lips closing around his tip as you slowly began to move your head back and forth. this only earned praise from toji, him muttering things like ‘yes, just like that’ and ‘such a fuckin’ slut’ from above you.
the praise only encouraged you to take him deeper, your head moving faster and his hand coming to the back of your head in a team effort. you were swallowing him up, almost the whole thing, but he was wide and your mouth was only so big.
“that’s it, take it all. feel it hittin’ the back of your throat, hm?” he asks, watching your eyes begin to tear up as your mouth produced the most lewd sounds he’s ever heard. you were gagging and moaning around him, trying your absolute best to make him proud. toji noticed your fists beginning to bawl as your nose got closer to his pelvis.
you poor thing. with a a few more sucks, he allowed you to let him go, letting your back hit the seat as you coughed and caught your breath. you had a mixture of pre-cum and saliva on your face — and he was still leaking.
with his dick in his hand, he lifted your chin up, allowing himself to get a better look at you. your plump lips were swollen and you were breathing hard. his pretty girl. toji tapped his thick cock on your lips as you gave him a small grin.
by the look on your husbands face, you knew he was about to wreck you. you loved when he got like this — frustrated and determined, even if it ended with you not being to walk straight the next day.
“turn around and arch your back. lemme’ see that ass.”
you wasted no time doing so, hiking your dress up and moving your thong to the side, showcasing your pretty cunt that was just glistening and waiting to be stretched. your pussy drove him crazy. from how pretty it was, to the way it sucked him in when you fucked — it was a blessing and you felt like heaven.
bringing his tatted hands to your ass, he spread your cheeks apart to give him a better view of your thumping hole. he kneeled down, placing his tongue on your folds to get you nice and ready — even though you were already soaking, and he wanted a taste.
“ooo- fuck, baby!” you yelp, feeling him tongue fuck you for a brief moment, then sending a slap to your ass. before standing, he spat on your cunt and used his thumb to spread the liquid across your folds. with a hard cock in his palm, he aligned himself with your entrance, rubbing his tip against it.
“look at how wet you are, doll. i could just slide right in.”
“toji— please, fuck! stop teasing me.”
that response sent a harsh slap to your ass, “talk to me nice. that mouth is what got you in this position to begin with.” he wasn’t wrong. you did in fact get yourself into this — but you’d do it over and over again.
“t-toji, please put it in baby. i need you. i’m sorry..” you cry out, a bit too loud, as you inch your ass back on him to feel something. laughing at you desperation, toji finally slides his cock in — your pussy warm and tight. you were squeezing him just right, but you were holding back for some reason.
“it’s too big— aah, oh my god.”
“don’t run, mama. remember all the shit you were talking before, hm? now you can’t take dick?” he asks, his head tilting to the side as he works your pussy. the stretch was a mix of pleasure and pain. the man wasn’t even all the way in yet and you were begging for him to take some out.
after a few more gentle strokes, toji’s speed eventually picked up. you could feel every crevice of his cock glide against you and he felt so fucking good. he was giving you long strokes, pushing all the way in and then sliding all the way out leaving only a bit of his tip in every time.
he was so deep.
“goddamn, y/n. you’re creamin’ on it, such a good girl,” toji groaned as your ass began to clap back on him, your flesh coming into contact with his stomach as you left a white ring around his cock like a snail trail. the sight of his dick sliding in and out of you had his face scrunching up as he followed your rhythm, giving you hard strokes.
you reached out your arm behind you, pushing and clawing at his stomach, “oh— aah, toji, you’re in my stomach baby! fuck please cum in me, i want it so bad!” you shout. toji was honestly surprised no one has come to check on the two of you yet. you were so noisy — maybe they got the hint.
“make me cum, love. you can do it—fuck! pussy’s takin’ me so well. look at that— in and out in and out.” his inducing words only motivated you more, your ass jiggling with every thrust he gave you and your pussy singing a pretty song. toji could feel his stomach tighten up when you came again, clenching around him with the intention of milking him for all he’s got.
“shit—m’ bout to cum. fuck, yes. gonna’ fill this pussy up.”
with one final thrust, toji came. his grunts and small moans sounded so good — almost making you want to cum again on the spot. he lazily slid out of you, your pussy making a squelch sound as you released his cock. he kissed the tattoo on your lower back and all the way up your spine before planting one on your lips.
“are you still mad at me baby?” you ask with an innocent, yet breathless smile on your face. he slaps your ass playfully and you wiggle it, giggling. after toji pulls his pants up, he helps you fix yourself up — adjusting the straps on your dress and putting your shoes back on your feet.
“thank you for bringing me, toji.”
the scar on his lip turning upwards into a smile as he mushed your face in his hands, giving you a kiss.
“anything for you.”
©️ all rights reserved to @saaturno. please refrain from copying or reposting as your own.
#toji fushiguro#toji x y/n#toji x fem! reader#toji#toji x black reader#toji smut#saaturnowrites#jjk#jjk smut#toji x reader
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DC x DP Prompt *7*
Robin was staring at the screen of the Bat-Computer, while his mind was trapped in the past.
Damian could still clearly remember growing up in the League. And he remembers that he never questioned Grandfather or Mother, except once.
He had been seven, almost eight, when he was training his stealth. And what would be better practice then to follow his mother around till she spots him.
But this day his mother seemed distracted, something that never happened. He followed her to Grandfathers study and listened.
"The boy is nothing but a hindrance to Damian. He fails to kill and has sympathy that's unbecoming for an al Ghul. If Danyal won't complete his next mission, you will dispose of him", Grandfather sounded annoyed, as if he didn't just spoke about killing his twin, about how their mother would have to kill her own flesh and blood.
He didn't wait for his mothers response, knowing that she wouldn't oppose the demon head. As fast as he could he searched for his other half, they needed an plan.
On their next mission Danyal died. It was tragic, but he had sacrificed himself to save the heir of the al Ghuls. At least that is what Damian reported to the League.
Danyal was on the run and for the next 19 month he was forbidden to leave any clues about his whereabouts for Damian.
At some point he would be able to find him again.
He had searched for Danyal, ever since he stared to life with father. But the little voice in the back of his head kept whispering about how Danyal probably died because of his injuries years ago and that father would see it as his fault that he lost another son.
But know he found one of his clues. An online post from someone with the username 'ghostboi', about a constellation and the story that he himself spun around it. A story only the two of them knew. Well... and a few hundred strangers now, but he would have to talk later with Danyal about that.
Now it was time to tell father about yet another son that mother kept secret from him, oh joy.
.
.
.
The talk had been going as good as anyone could expect, which meant that he and father now sat in a private jet, only two hours after they found out about Danyals whereabouts and three hours since Bruce Wayne knows about his second blood son.
They where going as Civilians, since it would probably go smoother. And because the Brucie Wayne persona seemed to gift his father the ability to talk a little bit easier about emotions. Except for right now, because he was angry at Damian for keeping his twin a secret. Still, Damian couldn't see how he could have handled this better and also stayed silent.
Quietly he goes over the things he found out about his brother.
He now goes by the name Daniel James Fenton
He lives in Amity Park, Illinois
He was adopted at the age of nine by the Fentons
He goes to the local high school
He has an older sister, Jasmine Fenton, who is in college for psychology
His parents are ecto-scientist
He has two friend with the names of Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson
It wasn't a lot, but he didn't have much time and also not the patience to wait any longer. It had been almost nine years since he last seen his other half and even if he was nervous, he just couldn't bear to wait any longer.
After they landed in an airport in the city nearest to Amity Park, the two immediately got into the back of a car and their journey continues.
For a long time it was silent in the car, till Damian couldn't bear his father's brooding anymore.
"I didn't know if he had survived and I deemed it better for everyone involved if I'm the only one with this particular uncertainty and possible grief", even if his own voice was levelled and his father just responded with a grunt, the air in the car seemed now easier to breathe.
~
Yes, Bruce had been livid and heartbroken when Damian had told him about his youngest, but he could understand to some degree where the boy was coming from. And if the situation wouldn't be so heartbreaking, then he could be able to call it sweet of his son. He just didn't want him to hurt, but even so... now it was to late to think about the what if's, in a few minutes he would have Daniel in his sight.
They stopped in front of a house that was a clear violation of every OSHA law he could think of. But the big "FENTON WORK' sign, told him that they were right.
Bruce put on a light smile, before he knocked on the door, Damian on his left side. From inside he heard a little bit of shuffling and a carbon copy of Damian opened the door. Everything except for the eyes were the same.
But before Bruce could say anything, the twins were already in each other's arms. He could hear quiet sniffling.
"You found me, your safe", the words came like a mantra out of Daniels mouth.
"Ahbak, Danyal", was the whispered answer from Damian.
And Bruce felt like an intruder in this moment. He had never seen his son so openly affectionate and it was like a weight had lifted of Damians shoulders.
It took a few minutes till the two brothers let go of each other. Except for their hands, that stayed clasps with each other.
"Hello Daniel, I'm Bruce Wayne. I'm yours and Damians father", he introduced himself with a smile, even though the boy seemed to shrink a little bit into himself.
"Please call me Danny Mr. Wayne. Just Fruitloops call me Daniel", his son gave him a crooked smile and Bruce nodded.
"Of course, but call me Bruce", he answered easygoing.
"Is there a place where we can talk Danyal?", Damian got the attention of his twin with a little tuck on his hand.
"You can come inside. Mom and Dad are out of town to get a few supplies for a new project", his answer was sheepish, as he lead them inside.
It seemed like he had adjusted well to a civilian life. How he wished he could have seen his growth.
They sit down in the living room and start to talk a bit about Danny's life with the Fentons. It's apparent for both him and Damian, that Danny is hiding something from them, but they don't press. Maybe he'll tells Damian, when they have a moment alone.
"Should I help you to pack your possessions now? I'm sure the Fentons won't need to long to come back, so that you can say goodbye", as Damian was speaking, he stood up and looked at a bewildered Danny. But Bruce wasn't really better. As much as he would love to bring Danny home with them, they couldn't just rip him out of his life. And Danny seems to see it just like him.
"Dami... I'm not leaving. I love my parents and my friends, I can't just go and leave them", Danny also stood up and clasped his hands on Damians shoulders.
"Tt... so you choose them over me?", his voice was barely over a whisper.
"No! I-... it's just... give me time? I'm almost done with high school and I want to go Gotham U, so... just wait a bit? Please?", his tone was pleading, as he searched his brothers eyes, whom just answered with a defeated sight.
"Danny is right Damian. We can't just uproot him like that. As much as I want us all together, we found him now, the rest can wait", Damian deflated a little more at his words. And so Bruce couldn't just let the opportunity pass to comfort his children for once.
He closed the small distance between them and hugged both of the boys lightly to himself.
"You know that I always wanted to raise you myself and now that I see you both like that, I wish for it even more", he sighted with a woeful smile, while Damian grumbled about the proximity. But Danny's little smile shifted to a horrified look.
"Your wish is my command~", the feminine voice came out of thin air, but Bruce had no time to think about it. Because just a second later, there were two little Babies in his arms. Two little, screaming Babies.
Bruce never regretted it so much in his life, that he hadn't brought Alfred along.
#skylers prompts#dcxdp#dcxdp prompt#dpxdc#damian wayne#bruce wayne#danny gets deaged#damian gets deaged#now Bruce has two babies!#and one has ghost powers!#he will learn that the hard way#he will also learn that they both hate it to be by anyone but dad#this man will know no sleep#I literally just had the last scene stuck in my brain#and started to build a plot to justify writing it#ups#demon twins#demon twin au#and yes they faked dannys death#but they needed to wound him severely for the plan to work#the fentons won't even notice that dannys is missing#but they will notice that phantom isn't showing up anymore#his friends will be worried sick#and jazz to#as soon as she hears about it#mister lancer is the one adult who will fill out a missing person report#while jack and maddie a running after boxy in the background#yes Bruce took them both home because he panicked
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ONCE AGAIN
thank you for waiting for me, readers. i do hope you enjoy it ♡ my first aespa fic, awesome! i've been going through it, thus the lack of content, but things are looking up for me. take care of yourselves, until next time :-)
pairing: male reader x winter; words: 6.5k ; categories: aespa, winter, reader insert, smut, slightly storyline heavy
Back in high school, there was a girl who shone above the rest, but wasn’t necessarily popular. A girl who was a member of the math club, the photography club, and the dance team, whose evenings were filled with activities, who made many friends, but wasn’t fawned over by the student body in the way the true popular kids were.
One evening, you were at school pretty late, tutoring in the library. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn’t notice the time passing, until the janitor came in and told you he’d be needing to clean the library up, so you’d better scram. Backpack full of books, you rushed out of the library, and quickly made your way through the dark hallway. You turned the corner and nearly collided with a small girl, who grabbed onto your arm to steady herself.
“I-I’m so sorry,” you said, and the girl looked up at you. Oh, perfect… “Minjeong, shit, I’m sorry…”
“Hosang, what are you doing here so late?” Minjeong asked.
“Uh, tutoring… You know my name?” you asked incredulously. She smoothed out your sleeve, folded the collar of your shirt down, and tucked her hair behind her ear.
“You know mine, too,” she quipped and giggled before running to catch up with her dance team friends, leaving you without room to explain yourself. To explain that no, I promise it isn’t weird, everyone knows your name, Minjeong, I’m not a crazy stalker, and I’m not here to spy on you through the gym windows while you dance. But you never got to explain yourself. To be fair, you did admire her from a distance. In the halls, at lunch, you wouldn’t deny that you looked at her with heart-shaped eyes. As pretty as you thought she was, you didn’t ever talk to her, something you would eventually regret.
Minjeong dropped out, and you didn’t run into her again. After graduation, you headed off to Seoul to learn how to fly, and soon, you realized someone else had come, too. Billboards, advertisements, you name it. For a solid month, wherever you looked, you saw her.
The same Kim Minjeong who you nearly sacked in the hallway that night, who, instead of yelling or being upset, straightened your clothes and wished you a good night; who knew your name when you were nobody. She was Winter, now, styled with gorgeous long, blonde hair, imposed over ethereal backgrounds and colors. You had to give it to whatever company she was running with, they made that old crush of yours flare right back up again with the way they marketed that girl. Financially stable enough under an air charter company flying small private jets, you decided you’d buy a set of the group’s albums when they debuted. Sitting on the floor of your apartment, pulling the photocards and posters out of those albums, you felt the full force of the regret from your school days: if you’d only talked to her in high school, you could have her number in your phone right this minute… But you were resigned now to being a fan, and a strongly biased one. That’s all you could be.
-
Charter piloting has benefits. Loads, surely. You’re essentially a glorified taxi driver, charging rich business people and celebrities $20k for a one hour flight from Incheon to Jeju. It’s morally wrong to allow a sucker to keep his money, right? As good as the pay, benefits, and overall experience are, the clientele… Well. Nothing you hate more than a stuck-up diva, and it’s even worse when you’re trapped in a flying metal tube with them. But you make do; the idol sightings you get on the job make all the asshole corporates worth it. From old school stars your parents might know, to drama actors and actresses, to the newest generation of idols, you welcomed a ton of each aboard, more than you could ever remember if you didn’t write it down. Unforgettable guests come along now and then; a trio of Twice members one weekend, some big-name producers behind insurmountably popular groups for a surfing trip, and the casts of award-winning shows on celebratory benders. Unforgettable loses its meaning when your secretary hands you today’s clipboard.
“This is mine? Thought it was… Uh…” you trail off and your eyes widen. The secretary laughs behind the desk.
“I knew it! You’re her fan, right? You always talk about Aespa. And I know you have her photocard in your wallet,” she winks at you as your face fills with an embarrassingly deep blush.
“It’s not just that, Jihye. I knew her in high school,” you say hesitantly.
“Oh my God, it’s like a reunion!” the girl squeals. “Wait, were you cool in high school?” she laughs.
“Uh… I don’t-”
“Yup, I knew it,” she says matter-of-factly. “Let me guess, the lame, nerdy guy had a crush on the cool-chick future idol?”
“No! Well, I don’t know,” you say. Your mind is too busy racing to think properly. The young secretary giggles to herself as you walk to the hangar. Preflight routines are difficult to complete when your mind’s racing faster than a Blackbird. Would she recognize you? Should you say something? Nah… You’re kicking tires pretending to be busy and the door opens. The trail end of a conversation…
“-ng is going to be your pilot. He’s a great aviator and an even better tour guide, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to show you around the island,” Jihye says. That damn secretary.
“Hosang? I feel like I’ve known someone with- oh, hi,” Minjeong stops abruptly when Jihye walks her around the aircraft to meet you. Long, wavy, dark hair, with bangs curled and blown out to mathematical perfection. Fair, unlined skin of a small and cute face. A simple and comfortable black sweater, a modest manicure, and plain, natural eye makeup. You bow shyly and wave.
“All good to go?” Jihye asks with the most annoying smile in the world.
“Yep,” you answer. Jihye departs and you welcome Minjeong to get comfortable while you finish up. A strange look occupies those perfect features as you give her a quick safety brief, then turn to enter the cockpit. Before the door closes behind you, “if you need anything, let me know.”
Why are you cold with her? Why are you nervous? You hardly smiled at her or asked what she was traveling for… Pure white clouds roll calmly underneath you. You resolve to be nice to her, even if she doesn’t recognize you, because let’s be real, it’s not her fault for not recognizing you. She meets tons of people. You’re just some not-cool kid from high school who had a crush on the cool-chick future idol. A pilot report over the radio snaps you out of it as you enter Jeju International’s airspace. Gusting winds and vertical movement, it’ll be a bumpy ride down. You reach for the intercom.
“Hey Minjeong, forgive me if I startled you. Looking at some rough air on the way down, but we’re about 20 minutes out. I’d sit down and belt in if you aren’t already, okay? Call if there’s any issues, and think of what you’d like for dinner.” You toggle off the intercom and wonder where the hell that came from. What, Jihye said you’d be happy to show Minjeong around the island, right? So you’ll show her. Your inner autopilot (funny…) takes over and you idly nudge the yoke for your approach phases. Wheels on the ground, hangar door shut, you stand and exit the cockpit. Minjeong looks up at you sleepily, and you sit across from her on one of the bench-style seats.
“So… dinner ideas?” you ask. Minjeong stands up and points at you groggily, shuffling towards you until her finger pokes the center of your chest.
“You. You went to my school, didn’t you?” she says, tiredness dripping from her voice. You nod and meet her eyes. “How come you didn’t say anything?”
“I didn’t think you’d recognize me…” you say softly, honestly. She moves her hand to your shoulder.
“Well you’re bigger, yeah, but… I recognize you. Bigger and taller. Same face,” she says. The smile can’t be kept off your face, unfortunately, and Minjeong smiles too.
“You sound really tired. Let’s get going,” you say. After a quick post-flight and signing off with the hangar staff, you face her and say: “Gonna change really quick, then we’ll head to dinner.” You slip into the FBO restroom and drop your duffel, then slip out of your annoyingly stiff white uniform shirt. You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, then pull on a plain black t-shirt before swapping your slacks for black jeans. One careful ruffle of the hair later, and you’re leaving the restroom to meet Minjeong in the hallway.
“Alright, ready.” You carry Minjeong’s luggage and she trails behind you, much like a puppy, on the way to the parking lot. The modest rent car’s parked right where the staff told you, so you open the door for Minjeong and she shoots you a confused smirk. You smile back, and hop into the driver’s seat.
“So what’s the occasion? Family in Jeju?” you ask.
“Honestly, I… When I get time off, I run a secret travel blog… So I take vacations, and take pictures and stuff,” she says quietly. “I dunno, it’s kind of silly.”
“How come it’s silly? Sounds fun to me. We’ll have to go to some really cool places so you can write a good post, huh?” you reply. “Now, dinner?”
“Mm. I’m too tired to think,” she mumbles. Great, now the pressure’s on you to pick something perfect…
“How about Black Pork Street? Could make for some good photos, and it’s really as good as people say it is,” you say and put the car in gear.
“Sounds good…” she trails off. Really, really sleepy. But she makes an effort to talk to you. She makes an effort to keep the focus off of herself, and more on you; she asks you how graduation was, since she didn’t go, and you really had to reach deep into your memory for that one. She asks you about flying, about why you chose it, about your life in Seoul, and about how you never ran into each other in the city. You hold yourself back from saying ‘well no, Minjeong, we haven’t run into each other in a city of 10 million people, with about 9,999,999 of those people being more interesting than me.’ When you arrive, Minjeong is lively and excited, telling you about her camera and asking what’s next after dinner. You kick yourself when you start wishing for a specific sort of dessert. Quit being dirty-minded, idiot…
“Let’s go! I’m hungry,” Minjeong says, dragging you out of your thoughts. She looks perfect taking photos on the street, pointing her camera at the sky, at signs, storefronts, plants, street cats. The way her eyes light up when she takes a good photo, runs over to show you, insists that you take a few of her; she’s not much different than she was back then, huh? A person with a good heart. A person whose heart you’d like to learn.
“Is it our honeymoon? First date? Must be a first date, you look nervous,” the dorky waiter says, nodding to you. Minjeong laughs, and you blush; the difference between you.
“Uh… J-just high school friends,” you manage to say. Minjeong jots notes and snaps photos throughout the meal, and as you’re serving up some pork belly for her, she takes a few photos.
“C’mon, make it look nice,” she whines.
“You’re serious about this, huh?” you laugh.
“It’s… It’s my baby. My project. My travel blog is like… I dunno, it’s a way for me to be creative, but not be Winter. It’s a way to just be Minjeong,” she slowly explains. “To have a space that’s all my own. Where I can talk about stuff I like, and not worry about press, or netizens, or fans, or anti-fans.”
“I get it. A space of your own. I should call you Minjeong then, right?” you say, nodding your head a bit too fast and a bit too much. She smiles and nods. But she nods like a regular person, not like you.
Dinner passes without incident. If we can ignore the waiter thing. Do you look like a couple or something? Maybe you do compliment each other. Maybe you seem like high school sweethearts. Maybe you could be.
“Hosang?” she says as she leans forward. “You in there? Let’s go to the hotel!” You snap out of it for the second time and hop up to lead the way to the rent car. The paperwork Jihye gave you had most of the information listed for Minjeong’s trip, and the hotel she’d be staying in was, of course, the Lotte City Hotel. No less grandeur for the princess. The GPS gets you there quickly, and you pull up to the front doors, leaving the car on as you grab Minjeong’s suitcase. Just as you’re rounding the front of the car and waving goodnight, she makes a confused face.
“Wait, you’re leaving?” she whines. Minjeong the kid…
“Oh, uh, yeah. I was gonna head to the motel near the airport, that’s where my room is. Did you need something else?” you say.
God, why do I sound like a customer service bot? ‘Did you need something else?’ Seriously?
“I… I dunno, I guess I just wanted someone to hang out with,” she replies.
Oh. To hang out?
“Oh, of course, Minjeong. Let me park, I’ll meet you,” you say. And she’s waiting for you in the same spot once you return to the front door; she didn’t even go inside. Her long, dark hair’s ruffled by the wind. Cute.
NO. Not cute. Not cute or pretty or hot. She’s my client, my customer, my responsibility; not my crush, my girlfriend, or my next body. Look at the ground or something, for the love of God, Hosang.
But looking at the ground can’t keep her legs from your peripheral view. She walks through the sliding doors and you follow behind with her suitcase in your hand, and your duffel on your shoulder. Long, slender, perfect legs, and you’re looking right at them. You snap your gaze to the windows and pretend to be looking at the skyline through the windows while Minjeong checks in. After a moment, she turns to you and smiles.
“Do you have a swimsuit?” she asks. You shake your head. “There’s shops on the bottom floors, go and find one, okay? Meet me on the sixth floor. There’s a pool! The pictures are gonna be perfect!”
She shoves a room key into your hand and takes the bags from you. You’re left in the lobby, dumbfounded, wondering how you should navigate this. A bellhop whistles at you.
“First night with her? Sheesh,” the young man says. “Score!”
“Weird situation, man. Weird as hell,” you trail off as you walk away, still shaking your head, more so to yourself now. Okay, shops. Swimsuit. You begin to feel insecurity nagging at you. You’re lean, sure, but not perfect. Not as perfect as… Well, nevermind. Quickly, you make your way through the shops, and find a pair of rather plain, mid-length black trunks at a duty free shop, changing into them in the restroom and leaving your shirt on. The elevator ride lasts forever. And ever. And ever. Until the robotic voice announces,
Sixth floor.
The doors open and you walk quietly out to the open area of the pool. You see one figure in the water already. She’s facing the city, hugging the edge of the pool and gazing at the skyline. The water laps at her back, just below her shoulder blades, and the silky smooth skin of her back is laid out for you, with only thin bikini straps to cover it. Her arms and shoulders are small, toned, but soft. Fancams and jacket shoots could never do justice to the sculpted angel right in front of your face.
“How’s the temperature?” you say. She turns around. Her top is composed of white strings and back fabric; conservative, but form-fitting to her chest, that Goldilocks chest, the perfect balance of size and shape. Her collarbones are distinct, curved, beautiful. Hell, every curve you can see is perfect, from the angle of her jaw to the base of her neck to the gentle taper of her arms.
“It’s heated,” she giggles. “Come on!” Insecurity. Nagging. Loudly.
“Are you sure? I can just hang out and take pictures for you up here, it’s not-”
“Come onnn,” she pleads. You turn away from her and slowly drag your shirt off, then kick your shoes and socks off near where Minjeong left hers. The water is slightly warmer than room temperature, and a welcome change from the chilly air. You sit yourself down on a ledge in the pool, and Minjeong swims to your side, sitting right next to you. Not close enough to touch.
“See? Isn’t it nice up here?” she says.
“It is. Ever been to Jeju before?” you ask.
“Nope. I think it’s even nicer with a good tour guide.”
“Ah, come on. I’m not all that.”
“You’re…” she trails off and sighs. Her hair tickles your shoulder when she leans into you. “I wish I’d talked to you more back then.”
“Hmm? Don’t worry about it, that’s way past us,” you mumble.
“So… If I said I wanted to make up for lost time… What would you say?” she says and you feel her fingertips smoothly run over your leg under the water.
“I think I’d ask where that idea came from,” you say breathlessly. She moves her hand to your waist, arm around your front.
“I always liked you. I just didn’t think you liked me, you were always so quiet,” she says. Your hand, now, meets her waist, and your eyes meet hers.
“Is this okay? I mean… Can you do stuff like this? Now that you’re all famous and everything,” you say, struggling to form any words at all, overwhelmed by the electric sensations of skin on skin underwater. She cups your cheek with a wet hand and nods to the camera bag.
“Can I get some pictures for the blog? Before… Before I forget,” she finishes cautiously.
Before you forget, huh… Gonna make me take an impromptu bikini shoot of one of the most beautiful women ever. No big deal.
Minjeong disentangles from you; she tosses you a towel and you dry your hands, then power on the camera. Eyes fixed on the camera’s display screen, you start shooting. She moves through pose after pose, and you can feel yourself hardening. How could you not? A perfect, slim, pale Minjeong, body covered with water droplets, her skin shining in the flash of the camera.
“Would you check and see if those ones are any good?” she calls to you. You begin scrolling through the photos, and sure, they’re great. It would be hard to take a bad photo of her.
“Yeah, these are good,” you say.
“Let’s take a few more, then we can relax a bit,” she says. The camera display switches back to photo mode, and you look through; this time, your heart stops. The screen shows you that Minjeong has shed her top, and now, the camera focuses on her bare breasts, nipples erect in the cold air, water streaming down her chest. Her hourglass shape is all the more prominent now, and you wonder how it would feel to run your hands all over her wet body. You begin to lower the camera, but she shakes her head. “These are just for me. Please?”
“J-just for you?” you mumble, mostly to yourself. Her poses grow more erotic. She squeezes her breasts together with her arms, grabs them with her hands, and leans over for you to capture a shot of her from the side with her back arched. Now you’re definitely hard, no question about it, but at least now there’s no way she could be mad at you for it. It’s her fault. She moves towards you, and you set the camera on the ground next to the pool.
“How’d they turn out?” she asks. Her arms reach around the back of your neck, and yours wrap around her waist.
“You’re evil,” you say into her neck before planting a few kisses there.
“Oh, how could you say that? It seems like you had a good time,” she says. Her hips grind forward against your cock; she wants you to know that she knows how hard she’s gotten you. “You know, to be really honest, Hosang, you’re the first guy I ever thought about while touching myself.”
Really?
“Why?”
“You’re an idiot- Oh, God,” she’s interrupted by moans as you kiss further down her neck. “I just like you, okay?
“Well I just like you, too. Always did,” you say.
“I hope so. Otherwise this could be kind of awkward,” she giggles. You withdraw from her neck to place a kiss on her temple, and finally, on her lips. She tastes so sweet, lips so soft, tongue so aggressive. Her hand grabs onto your hair and she forces your head to turn so she can deepen the kiss. Minjeong seems hungry, desperate. You sit back on the ledge with your high school crush in your lap, her legs around your waist. She’s got both hands on your face, and she observes you like some sort of specimen.
“What’s, uh, what’s up?” you say, eyebrows raised.
“Your face… As different as it is, it almost looks exactly the same as the face I fell for back then. And I think I’m falling for it again,” she says. You begin to speak, but she places a finger over your lips. “I know what you’re gonna say. Just don’t think about it right now. Don’t. Think. About anything.”
Between her words, she’s taking your hands in hers, and moving them to her bare chest. You swallow. Hard. She’s right. If only for tonight, for this weekend, for a week, you have to just let it go. Her breasts are soft, and she whimpers when you squeeze them. She giggles and moans through a toothy smile when you roll her nipples between your fingers. Minjeong is clay in your hands, melting under every single touch, and it’s your job to make this trip unforgettable for her, to mold her into shapes of pleasure she’s never felt before.
“You know there’s a sauna,” she whispers through gasps.
“Good idea,” you reply. Water falls from both of your bodies when you stand up with her still wrapped around you, clinging to you like a koala bear to a tree. A quick jog from the pool to the sauna, but the wind still manages to chill you both to the bone. The sauna, though, is comfortably warm. Minjeong in your lap again, you sit on the wooden bench and she devours your neck. Her tongue and breath are hot against your skin and the steam begins to make you sweat already. She stands and takes hold of your hand, beckoning you to follow suit; you stand close to her and she looks up to meet your eyes. Small hands make their way to your waistband.
“Can I?” she asks softly. You help her slide the trunks down your legs, and your cock springs out, painfully hard, smacking your stomach. Her hand wraps around it immediately, and she moves in to kiss you again. She moves her tongue slowly against yours and her hand works your length all the while; her delicate fingers find the precum dripping from your tip and spread it generously. Delicately, she kneels; cautiously, she licks your cock from the base to the tip before latching onto the head and giving gentle suction. She looks up at you with her deep brown eyes and you place your hands on her head. You’re gentle with her. Your fingers make their way through her hair, and you keep your hips as still as you can, so as not to overwhelm her. You feel the back of her throat suddenly, and a moan escapes your mouth briefly, before you slap your hand over it. Minjeong backs off and strokes you with her hand.
“Don’t… I want to hear you,” she says. You feel your cock twitch, and you let out a sigh. A soft moan when her strokes speed up. “Good…”
“What if someone-”
“If someone hears? They’ll leave. Don’t worry,” she says. She gives you a few more seconds of suction, tongue massaging your head, then stands back up. You switch places with her, only now, she casually strips her bottoms off and sits on the wooden bench. Her toned thighs spread apart slowly while you stand back to take her all in.
After all these years, there she is; imagine telling high school Hosang what’s happening right now. Forget moaning her name while I jerk off… She’s right there.
Beads of sweat roll down your face and body. Minjeong, too; she’s covered in dewdrops of her own. Somehow you think they must look better on her than they do on you. A deep breath, and you step towards her. Her chest rises and falls rapidly under your hands when you give her pert breasts some more attention. You’re on your knees, now, watching her face contort and listening to her voice catch in her throat. If she never wore a bra again, you’d surely be happy. Kisses planted down her body, from her sternum down her stomach, halting at her hipline. You take a moment to stroke her thighs softly with your fingertips, and they shudder. More kisses for her legs, from her ankles up her calves to her inner thighs. Her sweat is salty and sweet. How will the rest of her taste? You look at her again.
"What do you like?" you ask.
"I… I don't know."
"When you touch yourself, how do you do it?"
"That's embarrassing…"
"When you're using your hands, imagining they're mine, what do you do?"
"..."
"Show me, so I can do it for you." Minjeong’s eyes are half-lidded, lust-laden. When you look down at her perfect, trimmed pussy, it’s dripping; your words got to her. She takes hold of your right wrist and places your hand on her stomach, thumb on her clit.
“Slowly,” she whispers. You oblige, and slowly make circles on her clit, spreading her wetness over the sensitive nub. Her next move brings your left hand to her mouth. She sucks on your two middle fingers, taking them deeply into her mouth. Wet enough now, she moves your hand, palm up, near her pussy, and nods. “Inside.” The walls of her pussy are so hot, so scorching hot, inch after inch engulfing your fingers. One curl of your fingers and she’s cursing, moaning, bucking her hips. Poor girl must be starving.
“Is that good for you, Minjeong?” you say. Your voice seems like it’s dropped an octave and slowed down about half a measure. It doesn’t matter; she can’t answer you, anyway. She’s busy stuttering out your name. Temptation gets the best of you and you move your thumb away. Minjeong whines, but it’s soon replaced by a near scream when your thumb is replaced by your tongue. As expected, she tastes incredible, some remnants of salt water from the pool, but overwhelmingly sweet underneath. She clenches around your fingers a bit.
“F- Oh my fucking-” Minjeong stutters. Her eyes roll back in her head. Her delicate fingers grip your hair, not so delicately. Rapid, shuddering breaths cause her toned stomach to rise and fall quickly, her arms and legs jerk, and the salty and sweet flavor floods your tongue. Unlatched from your hair, Minjeong’s hands grab your face and yank you up towards her face; as you stand, the tip of your cock grazes over her clit.
“Whoops,” she whispers. Her lips are warm and smooth when they lock onto yours. And you feel her hand creep down your abdomen. Your attempt to break the kiss is foiled with Minjeong’s arm around the back of your head, and her other hand moves up and down your shaft. She’s devious, smiling into the kiss as you fill her mouth with moans, tightly gripping your cock and twisting her hand with her up and down motions.
Kim Minjeong from high school is jerking me off. Kim Winter from Aespa is jerking me off.
It’s a mindfuck. She kneads the back of your neck and sucks on your tongue. You can’t fuck her in a public sauna… Can you?
“Minjeong…” you whisper against her cheek. She looks at you innocently. Like someone who isn’t driving you crazy.
“What?” she giggles.
“How about we go to your room? Could be bad if, you know, someone sees us,” you mumble.
“How about once here, and a few more times there?” she says with a wink. “It’s late, baby… No one will come up.”
‘Baby.’
Minjeong guides you towards her pussy with the hand that had never left your cock. Her legs rest on your shoulders, and you grip her pillowy soft thighs to brace yourself for impact, for entry. Her heat begins to swallow your length, quite easily due to how wet and aroused she is, and she makes the hottest noise she’s made the whole night. And now you’re hilted in Kim Minjeong in a hotel sauna with an unlocked door. Her nails scratch at your chest and shoulders frantically.
“God, so full…” she moans.
“You want me to fuck you now?” you put the sultry voice back on. She nods. “When you’re using your toys, imagining they’re me…”
“Please, Hosang, just fuck me,” she pleads. “However you want. However you need.” It’s all you need to hear, certainly. You pull out nearly all the way, and watch your cock disappear inside of her with a grunt. Your thumbs nearly touch as you wrap your hands around her small waist to pull her down around your shaft with every thrust. All inhibitions are gone, any restraints have been lifted; you’re slamming into her hard, and the both of you moan loudly enough for the reception desk to hear. Minjeong’s tight abs contract and relax under your hands, you look at her face to see her drooling with her eyes rolled back. Like, actually, really drooling.
“Fuck, babe… You’re really enjoying this, huh?” you say gruffly. You swipe your thumb over her chin and she leans down to suck on it instead. Lustful eyes meet your gaze and your thumb pops out of her lips.
“I’ve been waiting so long,” she says. A quick sigh to punctuate her sentence. “So many years…”
“Well-” you try to speak, but she clenches herself around you. “Fuck. I don’t think I can wait any longer than I already have-”
“Pull out baby,” she sighs. “I want to swallow you.”
Regretfully, you withdraw from Minjeong’s tight hole, but the steam keeps your cock rather warm while she kneels down. After a lick from the base to the tip, she takes you all the way into her throat. She takes your hands and places them on her head, looking up at you sinfully. With fistfuls of her dark hair, you pull back, and thrust in again. She gags and coughs, but she never gives up, and soon, you’re shooting rope after rope, nearly convulsing in pleasure. She strokes you into her open mouth, wringing every drop out of your spent cock. When she’s satisfied, she swallows and stands up to kiss your neck and chest.
“How about… How about we go to the room?” she says.
“You want me to stay with you tonight?” you ask. She laughs a bit. Her laugh is fluttering and adorable, a sharp contrast with the noises she was making moments earlier.
“Of course.”
-
After getting dressed and gathering Minjeong’s things, you head upstairs. In the elevator, you stand behind her; she grinds back onto your groin and brings your hands to her chest. Floors fly by and the number on the small screen goes up as you massage her chest and her delicate moans get you painfully hard once again. She rushes in front of you to the room, giving you another view of those creamy, toned legs, and you do your best to catch up. Once inside, she sits on the bed in front of you and waits. Her hands travel slowly from her hips to her knees, and even slower she parts them with her hands to reveal the glistening skin peeking out from her bikini. Her breath hitches when you step forward and gaze down at her.
“I showed you what to do last time,” Minjeong whispers. “I want to see what you’ll do on your own.”
“No pressure, right?” you joke, and she smiles. Her thighs are soft and malleable in your hands, and her neck softer under your lips. You untie the bikini top and cast it to the side, then kiss further and further down her neck. Kisses travel down her neck, over her collarbones, down to her sternum. There’s still salt from the pool on her skin, and you lick towards her nipple before giving it a bite. Minjeong jumps slightly and closes her fists in your hair. Your mouth works on one nipple and your hand kneads the other breast, perfectly sized for your hand. After switching sides once or twice, you kiss her stomach. Her hands move to your shoulders as you kneel on the floor in front of her.
Minjeong’s legs are wide open. You slide your fingers into the waistband of the swimsuit and slowly drag the bottoms down. More kisses travel from her knees across her inner thighs and up to her hip bones. She’s still dripping for you and you drag your tongue upwards over her pussy slowly to savor her. You spit on your fingers and slip them inside of her easily.
“Ohhh my God-” she whispers and bucks her hips. “Go faster…”
“Mm, so impatient, Minjeong,” you reply. Your tongue returns to her clit and makes smooth circles. She tenses around your fingers when you curl them back towards you, her moans growing louder, grip on your hair growing stronger. Taking her by surprise, you withdraw your fingers and stand up. While her hands work automatically on pulling your swim trunks down, you take a moment to just gaze at her. Her ruffled, semi-wet hair, strands sticking to her forehead and swaying wildly as she kisses up your thighs. Her flushed, glistening skin, cheeks inflating and deflating with the waves of pleasure coursing up your torso as your length disappears into her mouth again. Her pretty shoulders and arms. Her nose buried in your stomach.
Fuck.
“You’re really good at that,” you moan. With a yelp Minjeong is scooped up into your arms and tossed, more or less, onto the pristine hotel bed. She pats the bed beside her, and you get the message. You lie back and let her mount you. She guides your tip to her entrance, and once in line, she slams her hips down aggressively. You’re content to let her ride. Her body moves in mesmerizing ways as she grinds on you, seeking the best angle for your cock to rub against all the right places. Just as soon as you begin thrusting into her, your phone starts ringing.
“Dammit, sorry, Minjeong,” you curse and remove the girl from your lap. Fucking spam call? Really? With the phone silenced, you turn around to see her lying back on the pillows.
Like an animal, you crawl towards her; you feel like one at least, with the way your cock is throbbing. She pulls her legs up for you, and you guide your tip towards her dripping center. The warm feeling envelops you again and you sigh, eyes closed. Your hands find her waist and keep her torso still while you begin to drive into her. You almost can’t even hear her whines anymore, her voice punctuated by each thrust, curses and iterations of your name following every other sound.
“-nside me,” Minjeong’s voice fades in as your stupor breaks a bit. You lean forward and make a confused expression. “Cum inside me. I want to feel you fill me…”
And something about the way she says it just obliterates any second thoughts you may or may not have had. Her high, airy voice, begging for such an impure action, intensifies the warm, wet pleasure surrounding your cock. It only gets warmer and wetter as your cum dumps into Minjeong, deeper and deeper inside of her, coating your shaft, dribbling out onto the sheets. Your thrusts slow down, but your dick stays inside; you’re tired. You wrap your arms around her waist, and lie down gently on top of her with your face in her neck. She administers gentle scratches to your scalp.
“You came so much, Hosang,” she whispers. Her legs settle around your back.
“Drained all my energy,” you laugh weakly.
“You’re heavy. Can we switch?” she says. So you do; you roll onto your back. Your cock slips out in the meantime, and you both laugh about it. She fits in your arms like she was made for them.
For a long while you lie there. The cold air condition and the crisp sheets are a welcome contrast to your steaming hot skin and the panting, sweating furnace lying on top of you. Minjeong painstakingly brings her hand to your cheek and kisses the other with soft lips. A slow blink. A thought in your mind.
Is this what it feels like?
“What are you thinking about?” she asks. She knows.
“How do you feel about me?” you reply. Her expression is mixed.
“How do I feel… I feel like there’s a reason we ended up on this trip together,” she answers. Her body rises as you take a deep breath. “I mean I feel like something brought us together.”
“What do you want to do about it?” you ask.
“I want to find out why. There must be a reason this happened, you know?” she says. A small yawn. “Like… There must be something waiting at the end of a journey we can take together to find out. Or something.”
Together? A journey?
“Think it might be time for you to go to sleep,” you whisper. Her baby hairs stick to your face when you kiss her temple. The sheets are smooth and cool when you pull them up over Minjeong’s body and yours. She falls asleep quickly. You don’t. You’re thinking about IFR plans and what to say to her in the morning. Your fingers trace along the smooth skin of her hips and lower back for a while. The softness is comforting. And you fall asleep.
Is this part gonna go in the blog post?
#aespa fanfic#winter x male reader#aespa x reader#aespa x male reader#aespa smut#winter smut#girl group smut#kpop fanfic#kpop smut
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Mile High Club - Carlos Sainz
I was inspired by Carlos' Instagram story 😂 enjoy!
pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader
warning: smut
word count: 1.5K
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"What are you doing?" you ask Carlos as he busily types away on his cell phone. You see that he's composing a text and wonder what he's so meticulously writing down.
"I'm giving my followers on Instagram, some tips on how to prevent a jet lag."
You and Carlos are currently on a flight from Madrid to Dubai, then transferring to another plane to Melbourne. You usually accompany Carlos to race weekends in Europe, as the short distances are clearly more pleasant to travel. You've only flown long-haul twice before, and that never in First Class. The comfort or rather luxury made the long flight a lot more pleasant.
"Which would be?" you inquire with interest, putting your book aside and leaning in further towards him. You two share a cabin. Somehow, it's disconcerting that despite the number of passengers on board, you were able to be so private and secluded. On top of that, your little compartment was very cozy.
"You can read all about it in my story..." he mumbles as he continues typing.
You pull a pout. All you wanted was some attention and affection from your boyfriend. Carlos has always been very reserved and especially in public. He loves you, more than anything in the world, but physical touch is not his love language compared to yours. He loves spending time with you, but hugging, caressing and kissing you in front of everyone is just not his thing. He is loving and caring, but only ever in your private togetherness.
"I want you to explain it to me though..." you continue to pout and start a new attempt to get Carlos' undivided attention. He looks up at you from his phone and sees you leaning in close, looking at him with wide eyes.
"Oi, cariño! Don't look at me like that..."
"How am I looking at you?"
"Please just don't..."
You fall dramatically back in your seat and cross your arms in front of your chest. Again, there's that pout and this time it's justified.
Carlos groans a little annoyed, but then relents. "So..." he begins, explaining his stay-awake method for the first flight. You watch him closely. In everything he does, he is always so passionate. Even if it's just about a simple Instagram post. When Carlos talks, it's always with his hands. His long and talented fingers which he knows exactly how to use. Your gaze wanders to his face and gets stuck on his lips. His full and beautiful lips.
He is such a good kisser. You'd love to fall around his neck right now and nibble on that plump lower lip. Just as he's telling you about the importance of light conditions, you're done. You put your hand on his thigh and it completely throws him off his game. He looks at your hand and then back at you. He knows this look all too well and has to swallow hard, "Mi amor, please...".
Innocently you look at him and have that smug grin on your lips, "Go ahead!".
Nervously, he shifts in his seat, making sure no one can look into your separate compartment. He clears his throat and tries to remember the last point on his list. Which is getting harder and harder as your hand continues to move up until it's on his crotch. Carlos puts his head in the back of his neck and moans a little excited. Within a few seconds he is hard, this can be clearly felt under the fabric of his jeans. You take your other hand to it and open his pants with skillful grips, "I know another method to keep you awake.".
"Ay, Dios mio..." he moans out as you finally reach into his boxers, freeing his hard cock and gently taking it in your hand. With an animalistic look, he looks at you. His pupils so dilated that barely any of his amber iris can be seen. His hands grip the armrests of his seat even tighter and his hips jerk eagerly towards your hand. Now he is addicted to your touch and wants you to intensify your movements.
"Please don't stall me like this..." he literally begs you, whispering so that the passengers around you don't notice anything, or at least as little as possible. You smile triumphantly and slide off your seat to kneel between his legs. The sight of his cock excites you too and without hesitation you take him in your mouth.
Carlos bites his lower lip at this contact to prevent a loud groan. A rumble escapes his throat, this only sports you further on.
Carlos is big, too big to take him completely into your mouth. You struggle until you feel him deep in your throat. Tears shoot into your eyes as Carlos rhythmically thrusts his hips forward. He holds your open hair together in a ponytail with his fist and now sets the rhythm. You give yourself to him and let him fuck your mouth. As loving as he is to you, he could also be dominant and you would be lying if you said you didn't like it at all.
Carlos is getting closer to an orgasm, but he doesn't want to cum in your mouth. "Come here." he prompts you and pulls your mouth from his cock. Now you look at him a bit surprised. Neither he nor you are people who are quiet during sex, but Carlos is so driven by lust that he doesn't care about anything around him now. Hesitating slightly, you climb onto his lap and lean down to kiss him. Luckily you opted for a long wrap dress today with the springy temperatures in Madrid, so Carlos quickly pushes the skirt of the dress aside to get to your underwear.
"Already so wet for me?" he asks bluntly with his strong Spanish accent, which sounds as sexy as never before and grins cheekily. His fingers roam over the top of your thong, feeling how damp the fabric already is.
"You're rude." you admonish him in a whisper and kiss him greedily again to prevent a groan. Carlos immediately takes this chance and pushes your thong aside to enter you with his index and middle finger. His other hand fumbles with the bow of your wrap dress and opens it. In front of him the sight of your slightly transparent lace bra. Then he puts his hand on the back of your head, so you don't have the chance to pull your head away from another kiss. You moan into his mouth during the kiss, fortunately this muffles all sounds from both of you.
Carlos barely gives you time to get used to his fingers and already withdraws them from you. Only to place his cock in front of your entrance. You want to feel him, you want him to fill you. Quickly you settle on him and take him inside you almost effortlessly. A familiar feeling for both of you, which you can never get enough of. You let your eyes roll back and begin to grind your hips. Carlo's hands linger on your hips to keep them as low as possible, so that he is deep inside you. Again he sets the rhythm and you bury, your face in the crook of his neck. The desire for each other and also joining the Mile High Club now, makes your adrenaline level rise higher.
"Carlos, I'm about to cum." you moan barely audible into his ear.
"A little more..." he murmurs back and you feel his hard grips on your hips. You increase your pace and feel the knot in your abdomen tighten. Your legs are already shaking and your breathing is also completely uncontrolled. Carlos watches you struggle with yourself, as you try to delay your orgasm. This only turns him on more. You both exchange intense glances, trying to admonish each other to not make any telltale sounds.
"Okay." he nods at you, out of breath.
"Okay?" you assure yourself and again Carlos nods at you in confirmation.
Carlos has already given you several breathtaking orgasms, but you can never remember one as intense as this one. You ride your high out on him completely and Carlos watches as you do. You look so damn sexy while doing it. This memory will stay with him forever. After your climax, you smile at each other. Carlos puts his hand lovingly in your neck and pulls you down to kiss you again. You are only too happy to return this tender kiss.
"I don't think anyone heard anything." you whisper against his lips after breaking away from the kiss.
"Even if they did..." grins Carlos mischievously and you slide off his lap, back into your seat. You both get dressed again and fix your hairstyles, in the small mirror in front of you.
"Maybe I should add the Mile High Club to my stay-awake-list." Carlos mumbles with another cheeky grin on his lips.
"And the company should better wear a dress..." you add, joining in his laughter.
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newlywed harvey specter nsfw headcanons PLS
Say less babes, say less
Warnings: smut, mile-high club
there is almost no compliment that Harvey leaves off the table when it comes to seeing you in your wedding dress
he is instantly smitten and down bad when he sees the tear in your eye
as for you, you cannot wait to marry the one and only true love of your life
it had been a long time coming, but now that the day was here, a true dream come to life, the butterflies in your stomach damn near made you vomit
the ceremony and reception couldn't have gone smoother, all thanks to your genius planning
as the night was winding down, the two of you shared one final dance by yourselves where he told you all the beautiful, nasty things he wanted to do to you when you guys got home
from undressing you and taking all the pins out of your hair, to dressing you in a very risque lingerie set he bought specifically for today
that man was a sucker for fine lace and lots of straps
it was a deep maroon color, and fit perfectly over your body
how Harvey knew the measurements, you'll never know
he did spend a lot of time worshiping you on a daily basis so it couldn't have been too hard for him
anyway
he tried to treat you like a bride, tried to be delicate... but he couldn't contain yourself
and you didn't mind
it was sin. perfect sin
Harvey didn't leave a corner of your beautiful body undiscovered with his mouth or hands
much of the honeymoon was the same: hiding away from the world for a few weeks while he did anything and everything he wanted with you and to you
sneaking off to remote places together during tours to makeout like teenagers made all of it so thrilling
there are some looks you get from strangers on the street, surely gawking at the marks on your neck
Harvey has never been ashamed to show his love, and display it for all to see
On the flight back, he surprised you with a private jet, and no flight crew besides the pilot ;)
as a way of repaying him, you sank to your knees and let your mouth do the talking
taking him apart was easy, and his praise filtering in your ear encouraged you on until he came down your throat
it was a long flight back to New York, and there was plenty of time before you landed
after a nap and some food, Harvey dragged you in his lap and slipped in, hands on your hips, guiding you up and down and up and down
it was easy to get addicted to him. to his hands. his body. his mouth
Harvey added to the marks on your skin, tilting your head into the sunlight to get a good look
he may have taken a picture or two or twelve of you lying completely naked on the bed in Costa Rica with scratches and bruises he left
the two of you have never felt more connected
so intertwined in one another
even weeks and months after the wedding, the two of you could not stay still for very long
Harvey never got enough of you, and you never got enough of him
#harvey specter#harvey specter x reader#harvey specter smut#harvey specter suits#harvey specter fanfiction#suits smut#suits fanfiction
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after kidnapping reader, how much would your ocs' behavior and personality would change?
would they be more prone to fits of jealousy? would they be more obsessive like maybe monitoring them 24/7? would they try to change the reader?
sorry for all the questions 🫶 luv your work
Vivien
As I said before, Vivien does not want to kidnap Darling, but he will if he has to.
Once he has you nice and safe in his basement where you can't run away, he starts in on his plan to wear you down spoil you.
He makes sure you have every comfort possible. You have a tv with any streaming service you want, all the comfy blankets and snacks and books you want, even a pet if you want it. Anything you ask for, he'll bring it to you within a day. He will spend every minute he's not actively working with you, desperately trying to show you how much he loves you and how patient and kind he is and how he so so so so wants to treat you like royalty and make a family of little princes and princesses with you.
Honestly, he's so sweet and genuine that it's difficult for anyone not to fall in love with him, and he's patient enough to keep this up for months. He just wants to love you and for you to love him back! Is that too much to ask?
However, if you keep your will and still refuse to love him/pretend you love him, he will start to get frustrated. He'll start to demand more couple things with you, like giving you a specially engineered phone that only lets you talk to him and demand you text him pictures of what you're doing and message him while he's at work. He might hold you in his arms so you get used to his gentle touch. He'll slowly manipulate you by talking about how much easier things will be when you give in, how he bets it would be so nice to go outside again and you could have that if you were just good.
Eventually, he will wear you down, but if you were an especially disobedient Darling, he'll keep you on a short leash once you're allowed outside. He'll take you to and from work, always trying to keep tabs on you and rarely letting you outside without him until he is absolutely certain you won't leave him.
Or maybe you can't be trusted outside alone at all. Your sweet head keeps entertaining these notions of leaving him, you obviously can't handle the outside world unaccompanied. Maybe you're meant to be a stay-at-home spouse, soon to be a stay-at-home parent. Don't worry, he'll be sure to give you lots of sweet children to make sure you're not lonely, and he'll certainly give you lots of his attention as well.
Don't worry, you're his precious Darling, he'll take care of you.
Atalanta
Atalanta is generally a pretty consistent person whose true self (the self that she shows around family and Darling) is honestly pretty close to the persona she puts on in public. She's very mild and calm and generally slow to spur strong emotions.
She has a very clear plan for how to teach Darling to be both the perfect spouse and the perfect socialite. Her plan includes strategically using both rewards and punishments to train and mold Darling's behavior.
Atalanta is kind of a very controlling yandere. She always knows where Darling is, what they're doing, who they're with, and what time they're coming back. She has at least 4 bodyguards with you if you're going somewhere unfamiliar and around 2 if you're going somewhere known like a friend's house.
She's not really jealous; she doesn't need to be. Simply by being hers you already have a mark on you. No one will be able to hide you for long. A random shopkeeper might have a child who works at her company. The police just got another large Montclair donation. Anyone who sees you unaccompanied will return you back to your rightful place, and no one dares touch you without her permission.
Atalanta is also the kind of yandere to restrict what Darling does. Your days will be filled with all the best that high society has to offer, charity galas, yacht trips, private jets, Michelin chefs. It sounds nice, but now that you're with her, she sees no reason for you to ever indulge in silly things like grabbing fast food with friends, dancing at the club, and working your own job and making your own money. You have her now, you don't need to do these things. You can rest now.
Atalanta is very patient. If Darling resists or otherwise fights back, she will simply have you stay inside the penthouse until you repent and apologize for your bad behavior. If you run, she'll find you within hours and you will be punished. All the comforts she has given you? Let's see how long this defiance lasts when you have to spend days on end with no entertainment but what she mercifully decides to give you.
She is more than willing to wait years for you to calm down and be the perfect spouse, hanging on her arm, kissing her cheek, laughing at her jokes over a fancy dinner she bought you at the best restaurant in the city. Her mother did the same thing and Atalanta is nothing if not a Mommy's girl.
If you ever want to breathe fresh air again, even with her metaphorical chain around your ankle, you'll settle down and appreciate the things she works so hard to give you. It truly doesn't have to be this difficult, Darling girl.
#soft yandere#yandere#yandere blog#yandere darling#yandere fluff#yandere headcanons#yandere imagine#yandere oc#yandere boy#yandere gardener#yandere girl#yandere male#possesive yandere#yandere bf#yandere drabble#yandere dubcon#yandere headcannons#yandere imagines#yandere headcanon#yandere lesbian#yandere original character#yandere scenarios#yandere thoughts#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere boyfriend#Vivien my oc#Atalanta my oc
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Boyfriend!Riff Headcanon: Part I
In the meantime, while I work on the first chapter to Love Will Tear us Apart, I wanted to put together a little headcanon list, and quite frankly I got carried away. Enjoy! (I can always do a part II if you like.)
Riff is protective.
Even around his boys. He knows they aren’t dumb enough to try something on their leader’s girl, but that doesn’t stop him from showing them that you are his.
Like the time he fucked you in front of them when they were partying at an abandoned warehouse.
You two were in a dimly lit corner, and the boys pretended that they didn’t notice, but they didn’t stop talking about it for a couple weeks.
Riff is also affectionate.
He doesn’t care who is around, or what anyone will say. He loves the attention.
He loves to grab you from behind and kiss your cheek, wrap his arms around your waste and squeeze you until you’re playfully slapping him away.
He also loves to be doted on in private.
Most nights you’ll be little spoon, but it’s after a rumble that you’ll find yourself brushing your fingers through his hair, holding him, kissing his battered knuckles.
Sometimes he’ll rest his head on your chest because your breathing and heartbeat put him to sleep fastest.
He is what we call “baby boy”.
He always walks you home at night, and if he’s stuck up somewhere, he’ll have one of the boys meet you.
But one day there was a mix up, nobody was there to meet you, but your apartment is only a few blocks away, and you weren’t bothered. The boys had been dealing with increasing conflict with a rival gang, and someone must’ve slipped up.
But it’s that night that someone from this rival gang messes with you – they see you’re finally alone -- and you don’t get home on time, and you aren’t at your bedroom window when Riff arrives.
Riff is protective.
What comes after that changes the footing of the Jets. The rules are changed.
Riff would die for you.
The rumble that follows is the worst yet, and as he prepares, he gives you his bracelet. A promise that he’ll come back.
And he does, every time.
He loves to make love to you, but he also loves to fuck you.
It’s after a rumble that he is so needy, driving on such an adrenaline high, that no amount of touch is good enough.
He could have every inch of you and it still wouldn’t be enough.
His favorite place in the world is wherever you are.
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